Island Rush (18 page)

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Authors: Marien Dore

BOOK: Island Rush
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It made me want to cry harder. “Jesus Christ,” I moaned. “Suck it up, suck it up,” I said to myself softly under my breath. My tears stopped but begged to pour out. I wouldn’t allow myself that pleasure, not now and in this spot.

Mr. Rush must have heard me.  He shifted to his side, pulling me tightly into his warm chest. “You don’t need to hold it in. Let it out and I promise you, it will feel better.”

I was already so close to losing my cool and curling up into a ball, it didn’t take much to convince me. I started sobbing, really sobbing this time. I let it out, and it felt so good to do so. 

Before I must have held some part in because now, all my walls were down.  I cried against him, my tears hitting his chest. My head rested against him, taking in the comfort of his sweet breathing and warmth. I noticed he was slightly stiff and surprised I gave in. I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t see this happening either as I clung to him for support. 

That was no ordinary dream. That was a memory twisted around, and it was awful. It was bad enough trying to get over what I actually saw.  But to see that image in my head of them burying her… it was bad, no matter if it was real or not.

My sobs stopped a few minutes later when I felt myself going under again. Mr. Rush shook me awake like I asked him to.  I realized now though how childish that request was.  I was keeping him, and I awake for no reason when we had another long day of walking tomorrow. I would need sleep eventually.  “I see how stupid it is to try staying up when we need to build our energy back up.  I think I will be okay.” I flushed with embarrassment at how ridiculous my actions were. “It was only a dream.”

“Dreams can be very dangerous. They give us a false sense of reality. Dreams can twist our minds with hope and failure. It affects us, mentally and physically.  It can stick with you for a while. And that was a wicked dream.  I don’t blame you, trust me.  I’m just thankful you woke up,” he said softly.

His words were soothing, and his breath brushed over my hair. I felt more than safe and wasn’t scared anymore of going to sleep. I realized that as long as I stayed with Mr. Rush, I would sleep fine for now.

I tried to decide whether to give him space for his own needs of sleep or to stay close. I fell asleep in his arms deciding.  But before I went under, I could have sworn I felt a hand stroking my hair, relaxing me deeper and pulling me to a peaceful sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

I slept in my teacher’s arms last night. It might have been more exciting for me if I hadn’t been crying and covering his chest with my snot. Not having that dream would have helped the most. Thankfully, my breakdown was over.  No other disturbing dreams entered my head for the remainder of the night either. It made me want to sigh in relief as I felt myself ease out of sleep and into consciousness. The only thing I wasn’t looking forward to was facing Mr. Rush after last night. Bring on the embarrassment.

I kept my eyes shut, trying to think of something I could say but coming up blank. I noticed I was no longer in his arms, though, which made my mind spin. Was he already up? Did he get too hot after the sun rose this morning? Did he realize just who he was actually holding?

I opened my eyes, the sun bright in the sky.  It made me groan.  Thanks to me, we missed the dew again because we were unable to get up early. I hated myself at times like this. Why did I throw a stupid fit like that?  It exhausted both of us.

I looked around and saw Mr. Rush a few feet away from me, sitting with his legs crossed.  His finger was twirling over a strand of grass, his face bent down towards the ground. I could see his expression enough, though, and he looked quite disturbed over something. When he glanced up at me, he didn’t smile. I didn’t blame him with those bags under his eyes.

I sighed. “Hey, I’m sorry about last night. You didn’t need to hear or deal with that. You obviously lost a ton of sleep too,” I noted, searching his tired expression.

“No…  No, don’t be sorry,” he said, sounding slightly distracted. “You have been through a lot, and it was a healthy reaction. You couldn’t help what was going through your head.”

I turned and faced him, sitting before him with my legs crossed as well. We were in the shade of the trees, but I was already beginning to sweat.  Looking at the man in front of me, Mr. Rush was already drenched in his own stench. 

 

“I should be stronger than that.  Though very realistic, it was still a dream.  I let my feelings get out of hand, and it was quite pathetic. I didn’t mean to put you in that position, sir.”

His eyes flashed.  “Don’t call me sir. And sometimes you need to let it all out. I understand.”

“What are you thinking?” I asked, unable to stop myself from springing the question on him.  He was still distracted, and I didn’t know why.

“Hmm? Nothing. I’m just tired I guess.” Liar. He was hiding something, but it wasn’t my place to ask, especially after shoving his questions for me aside.

I nodded.  “Well, I’m sorry I made us miss the dew.” Seeing just how much his eyes were drooping, I asked, “How long have you been awake?”

He opened his mouth to answer but closed it after a second. He finally answered me.  “Awhile.  I wouldn’t worry about the dew,” he said, his eyes looking lighter.  He gestured to a few things I hadn’t noticed before in the grass.  They were seashells, the kind you see on the backs of crabs. They were all about the size of a softball too. I squinted my eyes on one that caught my eye.  The long opening to the shell was facing the sky but that opening to the inside of it… was blocked by something.

“So you collected some shells?” I glanced at him, not understanding.

He leaned to his right, picking up one of the shells and handing it to me. It was heavier than I expected. The tips of my fingers swept over the texture of smooth spikes and pearly peaks. The opening of the shell had something gray over it. It was clay.

This guy was something else. He somehow found clay here and ended up plugging the opening with it. That hadn’t explained the weight of it though since it was only across the opening. 

I raised the shell closer to my face to look thoroughly at it. When I did, a noise came from it. I put it next to my ear as I shook it, hearing the water that was inside splashing around. This was ten times better than my green waffle cone; I had to be careful not to spill that thing. The water wasn’t getting out of this, though, not with that clay blocking its only exit.

I looked up to Mr. Rush. That distracted and pained face was gone at the sight of my expression to this little surprise. I knew I had to have looked ready to flip out because wow… How awesome was this idea?! This man was a genius, plain and simple! He had been up early enough, not just to get the dew, but to go down to the ocean and collect several shells. Not only that, but he did this in the dark and used them to store the dew!

He started to laugh at whatever my expression was showing. How had he done this? How did he think of such a fantastic idea? How could he be so amazing? 

My face must have asked all those questions because he jumped in and began to explain with a smile.  “I knew we would have had to make another one of those cones to hold water. But when I went to go to the bathroom before the sun came up, I saw the shells on the beach. From there, it just came to me.”

Of course, he would have to take a piss in the ocean to come up with such a brilliant idea. I wouldn’t mock him for it. “Do you know how awesome this is? I mean goddamn dude! That is so amazing!” I exclaimed. “How did you manage this?”

He laughed. “I did like you told me to that other morning. I sucked in the water.  Except this time, I spit it in a shell instead of a leaf. Then I found some clay from under the sand in the water,” He said it like it was no big deal with a smile. “You are giving me too much credit. You were the one who came up with the whole idea of saving water. Now that was brilliant. All I did was find another way to do it.”

I guess he was right about me coming up with the idea. I feel he did much better, though.  “How did you think of the clay?” I didn’t even know you could find clay like that.

“When I was little, my mom and I use to go to the beach all the time. We made sandcastles and played in the water…  I loved to dig in the sand.  That meant finding clay,” he smiled at the memory.  “My mom use to say it was a thick magical layer of dirt. So I naturally used it all the time when we went to the beach for my sandcastles. We use to have contests to see who could make the best sand masterpiece,” he chuckled.  It made me smile to hear this from him.  It was a little glimpse into his past.  “She was always my best friend, in some ways. I miss her so much.”

His voice said more than his words. It made my heart jump in sadness.  If you read his words, it would appear as if he meant he missed his mother since he’s been on the island.  But his voice gave enough away for me to realize he meant that he missed her from long before this.  That he hasn’t seen her for a very long time.  His face told me it didn’t end well either. It made my heart ache so much that I had to ask. “What happened to her?”

He looked at me for a moment, first with surprise then sadness. “You don’t think she is waiting for me to return home with hugs and kisses?” he asked.

“No. I can tell that you are very sensitive talking about her. It ended badly?” I couldn’t bring myself to ask whether she was dead or not. His voice said she was.

“Yes. My mother turned into a bitter woman whenever I brought Jill around. She said Jill wasn’t for me and wasn’t good for me.  She always reminded me that changing for her wasn’t right.  It may have been true, but it wasn’t right for her to try splitting us up. She claimed that she couldn’t just stand by and watch Jill turn me into a stranger. Jill wanted nothing to do with her, and though I missed my mother every day, Jill was to be my wife. I had to stick by her side. My parents and I… we never really patch things up. The last thing she told me was that I was no longer the son she knew me to be. That was the last time we spoke.” He took in a deep breath as if revisiting that unfortunate part of his life was exhausting.

His eyes reached mine from where they had been lost in the past.  They seemed to be begging for understanding as he continued. “Now that I think about what she said, I think maybe I changed more than I thought.”  He sounded unsure. That wasn’t the issue I had with his words.

“She is alive?”

He stared at me as if I were crazy. “Well… yeah.  Why would you think she would be dead?”

I had made a stupid assumption from his words. I stumbled over my words. “I… You just sounded so crushed, I just…  That was what came to my mind at first. So, what do you think now? Do you regret how you left things?” I asked.  I wanted to get past that little mistake I made.  Not to mention, I was seriously drawn in now.  He never opened up quite like this before. 

“I want to know if she was right. I want to know if I was being ridiculous and went too far in pushing my parents away. They had a problem with her so that meant I had a problem with them. I know it was wrong of me to change for Jill, but I thought it was for the best. Now I am not so sure.” He looked away from me. I was on the brink of screaming at him that his mom was right, that I saw what she had. Instead, though, I exploded with anger at him over something else. I couldn’t hold it back, especially with him calmly contemplating his shaky relationship with his mother. 

“You just never spoke to her? Over one disagreement? Do you know what you are losing?!” I stood up in rage. I couldn’t sit still at this point. “You are such an oblivious and stubborn asshole! She didn’t do anything to you! She was trying to help you, and you break off all contact with her over that!? Over
her
.  I didn’t say anything before and wasn’t going to now, but your mother was 100 fucking percent right. Everything you said about Jill is awful. She is a bitch! She was probably this really nice chick when you fell for her but open your eyes!  She is different and you couldn’t and still can’t accept that. So you stuck with her until eventually, you became like her.” I sucked in a hard breath, raising my eyebrows as I looked down.  I shook my head as I licked my more than talkative lips. “You told me you felt different here on this island. Felt like your old self and that you like it.  Do you see Jill around here because I sure don’t! What does that say, sir? Huh? You throw your time away, your family away, and yourself—”

He was standing at this point, fire is his eyes. “You know nothing of me or my life! You are my student!  You have no idea about her and my family.  You have no business in it.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “Then that should tell you how obvious it is since it’s clear as day for a stranger like me,” I continued, not controlling myself at this point. “Do you have any clue how lucky you are?  Do you know how envious I am of what people have with their parents? You have both of yours, and you’re wasting your time staying away from them. Life is short, so you need to open your damn eyes and figure out what is there before it’s gone!”

I breathed in rapid breaths. His expression changed from rage to a strange sadness and curiosity.  “What made you like this? How can you think so deeply? I can’t agree with you about Jill, but you are so much older than your age suggests.”

I laughed harshly for a second, shaking my head. I couldn’t believe I just said those things. I couldn’t help it, though; he was so blind. I wanted to prove it too. I wanted to shove everything I had in his face and force him to open his eyes. “You want to know why I am like this? You always wanted to know, right? You kept asking what I hadn’t told you, and I held back. I didn’t need you running to the cops. I held back while here too for several reasons.” One of those reasons had to do with me not wanting to get closer to him. Another was that I didn’t want to accept what happened.  It will make what happened more real if I talk about it.  It would be worth it though if I told him. Maybe then, this idiot would open his eyes!

He came towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders, seeing this was big. “Tell me,” he pleaded.

I did, my voice cracking with the lump growing in the back of my throat. “You are so lucky, sir. You have a family. You have a mother. A real father,” I said, and when I heard my voice slightly break, I bit my lip. The rest of my body didn’t feel great either. I took a deep breath as I allowed my shaky legs to give in. Falling to my knees, I could feel myself want to crumble. It was like coming to terms with her dying all over again.

I took a deep breath and tried swallowing back that lump in my throat.  Mr. Rush kneeled down in front of me after a long moment of standing there in silence. “What are you talking about?”

“My mother is dead,” I finally let out. “She died last autumn.”  My voice penetrated something inside of me that I had been holding in. I never told anyone about it and never said the words for my full acceptance. I felt relief.

I saw him shocked before, but this was different.  His mouth slowly dropped open and stayed that way. Stunned eyes, searching my face, he saw more than the sadness I held. He saw everything else because everything was visible to him.  Who I was, my values and feelings, my strengths and weaknesses.  That was his goal all along.

He read my texts and asked the questions because he saw the difference in me after her death. He always knew there was something going on with me and my life but, him being a teacher, he had to be professional about it. He could obviously show concern and do what he could to help his students.  With how he is as a person, he needed more. He cared more and was more concerned about me than a teacher should have been.  So he looked at my texts. And from there came the questions. Curiosity and worry from him too. No one ever cared enough to try as hard as he did to help.

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