Unseen Messages(104)

She sighed as if a terrible weight had been lifted.

“Wow!” Pippa squealed as she ran ahead, disappearing into the only habitat on the island.

“Hey, wait for me!” Conner charged after her.

Estelle laughed. “I guess it’s inspection time.”

I didn’t want our moment to be over, but the ceasefire between us was an enjoyable place to dwell until we had more time to be open.

Considering we lived together...we rarely found time to just be and talk. Staying alive demanded a lot more effort than I’d ever imagined.

But we’re alive...and that’s all that matters.

Heading toward the top of our camp, I brushed my shoulder with Estelle’s.

She shook her head, wonder on her face. “I can’t believe you were able to create this.”

I squinted at the house, doing my best to see past its faults. The ratty flax knots and knobbly bamboo. Unstraight walls and basic layout. It was better than a tent...barely. “I just wish it could’ve been better.”

She wrenched to a halt. “What do you mean, better? Galloway, it’s perfect.”

I shrugged. “Next one, I’ll fix the issues.”

“I don’t want a ‘next one.’” She scoffed. “I want this one.”

I grinned. “Good job, you’re stuck with this one for a little while then, huh?”

Her smile broadened. “I guess so.”

I’d already drawn up blueprints for my next creation, and it wasn’t a house. I wouldn’t tell her, but my upcoming project was something floatable so we might have a chance at freedom.

In the months since we’d been stranded, not one aircraft, helicopter, or boat had been close enough to hear or see us.

We’d fallen through a tear in the map and no one knew where we were. It was up to us to find a way to be found.

“Come on. I want the grand tour.” Estelle dug her toes into the sand, moving faster.

I refused to use my walking stick any more than necessary and today was a day without it.

Gritting my teeth, I fought through the ache and did my best to hide my limp. She didn’t say a word as I moved with her, closer and closer to the house.

My fingers itched to touch her. Normally, I would fight the urge, but this time...I didn’t deny myself.

My hand curled around hers, holding loosely to give her the opportunity to pull away.

She didn’t.

Her grip tightened around mine, and together we entered our home.

The second her toes left sand and hit bamboo flooring, she bounced in place. Her black bikini top jiggled as her breasts moved; her cotton shorts bravely stayed up even with a few holes on the waistline. “It’s amazing.”

I’d painstakingly spliced, tied, and flattened the hard-wearing bamboo to finally have a floor that didn’t resemble a beach.

Conner and Pippa had already claimed their beds.

Their bright faces beamed. “You made us our own room.” Conner shook his head. “Wow, man. Thanks.”

It’d taken many hours of not having him there to help, but I’d inserted a few partitions in the house to make it more private. There were no doors, but Conner had his own spot with a partition blocking him from Pippa. It would be simple to remove the flax frond wall if they wanted to be together, but this way...they could have a normal sibling relationship without encroaching on each other.

Estelle drifted to the right where I’d put our wing.

Ours.

Only if she accepts me and stops fighting whatever exists between us.

I’d done the same thing on this side.

Another temporary wall separated her sleeping space from mine, but I hoped in time, we could reposition it to block the kids off and have our own private bedroom to do whatever we pleased away from the attentive eyes of youth.

Her fingers trailed over everything. From the natural walls to the fully stocked beds with a thick layer of fresh leaves to make a comfortable, warm, and no longer sandy resting spot. I’d arranged Estelle’s blankets just like a hotel would and even placed a tiny white flower on top. All that was missing was chocolate wrapped in fancy gold paper on the pillow.

The window holes let light in and a gentle breeze, keeping it cool while the shade finally gave our eyes a rest from the glare of fiery sunshine.

The middle of the house stored the cups and bowls we’d carved from coconut shells, the necklaces Pippa had made from fish vertebrae, and countless tools we’d adopted to make our life easier.

Shelving held the Swiss Army knife and axe, safe and ready for use whenever we required. We even had stored food, mainly salted fish with another bowl holding a variety of leaves and taro, along with a piece of fuselage hammered into a deep catchment holding fresh water.

We didn’t have a card house that would blow over like dominoes. We didn’t have a tent or lean-to. We had roots. Foundation. And for the first-time since we crashed, I truly took stock of what we’d achieved and how far we’d come from city dwellers to wild islanders.

We’d created this from nothing.

We’d forged bonds and skills through hard work and determination.

We’d become more than we ever thought we would.

I’m happy.

My heart shone like a torch as Estelle twirled in the centre of the house, smiling at the roof above her head. Watching her relax and throb with gratitude crucified my desire.