Page 116 of Adrift

The last one is a lot tougher to get back into position. The sun has tightened it to where it’s almost impossible. But twenty minutes, a half dozen curse words, and a bucket of sweat later, it’s back in place.

I crawl out of the raft as Calvin comes in sight from down the beach at the edge of the jungle. His arms are loaded with fruit and coconuts.

“Calvin!” Haley jumps up and races after him.

The devil cat jumps but misses the edge of the raft, bouncing back in. “Come here, you monster.” It hisses but comes to me and jumps into my arms—claws fully extended. It nestles at the corner of my neck.

“Where were you?” Haley takes a bunch of coconuts from the pile in his arms.

Calvin glares at me as the devil spawn eats my ear, then looks back at Haley. “The island isn’t what we thought.”

Chapter 46

Fish Weir

Haley

Iunload fruit out of Calvin’s arms as fast as I can. It’s stacked under his chin, and it’s going to drop any second. Pomelos and I think tamarind pods? I don’t know what to do with the pods. But Dante will. “This is amazing.” I take a good sniff of a deep golden-yellow pomelo. It’s like a floral grapefruit. Man, I want to dig into one right now.

“The island is a fucking ton bigger than we believed. I found a shit ton of fruit trees on the other side of the island. Over the mountain. Last time I went to the top, I looked around. But I didn’t go any farther... and it looked like the land slid right into the sea. When I continued down the mountain’s shoulder, the land jutted out to the ocean with another section of island. I thought it was all just cliffs like I had seen before. Those cliffs down to the ocean are so steep; I didn’t figure the rest would be different. But man, there are a ton of fruit trees.”

“Planted or natural?” My heart speeds up. If someone is going to come here looking to get their fruit, maybe there is a way home.

“Natural. There’s no pattern. I thought of that too. There’s no sign anyone has been there. Not that I can make out. At least, not in a really long time. Goat tracks are the only thing I found.”

My heart drops. I really was hoping someone might come to harvest their fruit. But it’s definitive. Calvin’s proven he’s a good tracker. If he didn’t see any tracks, I believe him.

“What is that?” He points at the Siamese kitten nibbling at Zane’s ear. I think it’s playing and not actually trying to eat him. But I don’t know, maybe it is.

“That’s the kitten Zane found.” We walk back to the raft. “I’ll get my basket.” I bring the woven thing over to Dante’s large stone.

“Where’s this basket?” Calvin looks right at it.

“Okay, it’s not the best, but it’s not flat, and for now, that makes it a basket.” I layer the pomelos around the edge of it and take the pods from Calvin. He’s not looking at me, his focus on Zane.

“A kitten?” His green eyes flick to me and then back to the kitten. “Where? How?”

I’m holding my breath, waiting for him to go berserk about how we can’t keep a kitten, that we can barely feed ourselves. That we’re not going to be able to take care of it. All the things I could hear my dad say.Get a cat at your mother’s house. I don’t want a dog, too much fur.But he knew Mom was allergic, while he was just allergic to love. And it creeps in.

I wonder if my dad even knows I’m missing. I don’t have him on any of my emergency contact forms, only my college best friend and her husband. I don’t have much other than them. I thought about putting Steven’s mom on my list. She raised a horrible human being, but she’s an angel. Dad didn’t pay any attention to me when I was a kid. I doubt he’ll give me a second thought now.

“Yeah, a kitten,” I say. “It was near the map tree in the clearing. Wandering around in the underbrush. I think Dante and I heard it the other day. But we thought it was something far more horrible. Like a huge rodent. But no, it’s just Simba.” Simba doesn’t sound right either.

“You named it Simba?” Calvin’s big hands reach for the little brown thing. “This pretty, pretty princess isn’t a Simba. Are you?—”

“Calvin, wait!” I try to stop him as he scoops the kitten off Zane’s shoulder. It’s feral. I’m afraid it will scratch him, but there’s not a hiss or screech in the air.

“Why?” He has the kitten in the palm of one hand. His big thumb smooths down the fur that’s sticking straight up on the little thing’s adorable head. “My cats at home always liked sleeping in my hoody.”

“You have cats?” Zane peels one of the pomelos. “Damn, these are good.” He holds a segment out for me and pops it in my mouth.

“Omph mmy.” The flavor bursts on my tongue. “How many cats do you have?”

“I have no idea. Dozens. I grew up on a farm. Most of them were barn cats. My brother and I each had our own that was allowed in the house. Winter and Summer.”

“White and orange?” I shove another slice into my mouth. Calvin has yet to have any. He’s too busy playing with the cat.

“No, that would have made sense. They were both tuxedo, black and white short-haired.”

---