This cursed island has begun to reveal itself for the trap it is. While I was distracted by the return of Mrs. Heston, I failed to see what was becoming of my crew. While Barlow, Sands and myself continued to work toward rescue with our signal fires, and an expedition conducted by Sands and Barlow up to the peak of the island’s lone mountain, if it could be called such a thing despite its comparatively small size, I stayed behind to ensure that Dillon and the rest were no worse for the wear. I suppose I did remain to spend a bit more time with Mrs. Heston, truth be told, whose garb seemed more tattered by the day. The night before last, when the joint songs of our mysterious choir rolled over the surf, I watched as Dillon, whose leg is unusable and could need removal if not properly looked after by a true doctor, dragged himself to the edge of the water, where Rose was already waiting for him. I could not make out the conversation, but she whispered to him, and I watched his face taken on a beatific countenance as it seemed some glorious revelation was given to him. He made for the water, and I rose to stop him from crawling head first into the ocean, but Rose stilled him with but a hand on the small of his back. Oh, cruel jealousy! I felt a pain in my belly at the sight of her hand on the injured crewman, and, though there were no romantic gestures to be seen, the time she held her hand there was time I felt an agony I can scarce commit to words. It should have been me she was touching!
Such were my feelings then, though I have grown to distrust this woman in the past day. I nodded off sometime during the night of Dillon’s efforts to plunge himself into the surf, and, when I awoke, Carvey was gone. Dillon and Wain swore they had no idea what had become of him, but the glances they exchanged when I questioned them implied they knew more than they told.
Later yesterday morning, I walked with Rose along the beach, and I could scarce keep her eyes from the blue waters to our left as we strolled. I found myself in a confessional mood, and told her of the feelings I’d had, vile though they were to me considering the recent death of her husband. Instead of lashing out at me, or taking her leave of my company, she entwined her fingers in mine and stopped me where I stood. She leaned up on her toes and kissed the corner of my mouth.
I could feel the heat of her, the softness of her lips against my skin, the rise of her breasts, nearly visible through the shreds of her top, and her hands encircled my neck and held me fast. I tilted my head to kiss her more fully, but she was moving away from me, and I had to shake myself from the delirium of that moment to catch up with her. How my thoughts have lingered on those few seconds and the details of Rose’s touch. Even now, I long for her.
Upon our return, I felt lighter than the finest grains of sand beneath my feet, and paused to talk with Dillon, who lay under the shade of the lean-to.
“I’ll be gone tonight,” he told me matter-of-factly after I’d asked after his condition. “No more pain, sir. I’ll be with them.”
“With whom?” I asked, settling myself on the sand behind him. I was curious, yes, but I was still in the fog of love left by Rose and her tender lips.
“Them, sir. The ones under the water. We all will be with them eventually, but it’s my turn tonight. She’s said so.”
