October 22 5:38 AM
I woke up quickly, my body shuddering in shock of the loud blasts from far away. When I sat up, I was face to face with Andrews chest, as if it was a pillow. My fingers had gripped his shirt tightly, and his arms were slung around my waist as if he were my personal blanket. A small blush made its way to my face at the close proximity, but I quickly covered it up and sat up fully, now fully straddling his torso.
Why did it sound like a gun going off? Did Jerardo wake up?
"Mm?" Andrew mumbled, his arms that once were limp at his side slid across my back and pulled me back to him, and he buried his head in the crook of my neck.
I giggled nervously, before I sat up again. "Andrew, wake up!" I'll admit, the chilly air was making me want nothing more than to snuggle with him but if I heard what I think I did, something was off.
I lightly slapped his face and stood up, stretching my body as I did. When i looked out of the hole, I saw a gray haze as thick as cotton candy.the sun had yet to rise, and the morning fog was still afloat on the island. The crash of the waves seemed cynical to me, considering there was nothing calm about our predicament. I quickly grabbed my camera and snapped a quick picture before turning it off. It was down to half percentage, and the thought of my camera dying made me sick to my stomach.
It felt like the only thing anchoring me to my mom and my family.
After setting it back down, I looked down at Andrew who smiled softly back up at me. His overgrown hair was in his face, and one eye was squinting as he stretched his arms over his head.
"Hannah, we may have no proper source to tell time, but I can tell you this is too early." He said to me, slowly and slyly sitting up and standing. He made a face shine through pain, and for a minute I panicked but he quickly covers it up. I was questioning whether I should ask him about it, but decided against it.
"I heard a gun shot."
"Is loco head up?" He asked me, rubbing his eyes and letting out a yawn.
I shrugged. "I'm not sure, but we hid the gun anyways. He doesn't know where it is. Do you think his buddies figured out he's gone?"
He blew a raspberry before answering. "No doubt about it."
"What do we do?" I asked, anxiety rising within.
"Figure out how we're getting off this island. How many days do we have left?" He asked, looking around the morning fog.
"Four." I shivered. "What the hell do we do?"
He didn't respond, and the anxiety feeling I had earlier began to rise again. Four days. 576 hours; 34,560 minutes to figure out how to get out of here otherwise I'm dead. I'll never see my family again. My friends, my ex's, my enemies, my acquaintances , my teachers (good and bad). Everyone I've ever met, everyone I've ever loved, will never see me again. For all they know, I'm already dead.
This situation sure made me feel dead.
"So that's it?" I asked in a small voice. "We just...give up?"
He didn't say anything again, and I sighed. I propped myself out of the hole, and after orienting myself I made my way towards the water. I haven't gone swimming in a while, and if Jerardo's goons wanted to come kill me then they better have good aim. Without a care in the world, I stripped off my shirt and shorts and ran in, diving under the first wave I saw suitable.
I'm not sure how much time passed while I was in the water. I like to think of it as a cleanser, except it's cleaning my brain and attempting to wash away all negative thoughts, sweeping them out into the vast ocean and replacing them with hopeful ones. Hope is an idea of expectations and of desires. One word. Many meanings. Different contexts.
Yet, lacking.
I sighed, dousing my head underwater one more time before I rose out of the water. Feeling some what rejuvenated, I threw on my clothes and walked towards the camp. The fog cleared up, and now it was easy to navigate myself from point A to point B. If only it were that easy from island to continent.
Andrew was sitting on a log, watching me as I walked towards him. I sat down alongside him silently, until he thrust a can full of water to the top in my face.
"Drink," he told me. "You look sick."
I snorted. "That's what I want to hear."
He gave me a stoic look, his eyes intense as he stared at me. "I'm serious Hannah, you've lost a lot of weight. You don't look healthy. Have you been eating?"
I shrugged. "I haven't had an appetite lately." Hastily, I took the can and chugged it all in one take. I hadn't realized how thirsty I had been. Out water has been limited, due to the buffoons wandering around with guns, we're very conservative and wary of when we take the trio to get water.
"Hannah," Andrew sighed, "You need to eat. You need to at least try to stay alive."
I looked up into his big green eyes, his now pale skin standing out. I hadn't paid attention to Andrew much lately, regarding his health. He appeared to be healthy, aside from looking exhausted and tired. His hair was still a mess and stuck up, but he made it look like he was about to go to a photo shoot. How this boy still manages to look beautiful after all the crap we've been through beats me.
"How's Jerardo?" I asked, changing the topic. I looked over to the mans limp body as he appeared to be sleeping. It looked uncomfortable to be tied up like that, but I brushed it off. He had a gun, Hannah, I reminded myself. He's bad.
Andrew pursed his plush lips. "He woke up a few times, but I knocked him out."
I nodded, and my attention focused on his now bloody knuckle. My eyebrows shot up as I took his large hand and held it in mine, running my fingers over the small cuts. "Why did you punch him? The hilt of the gun would've worked." I said softly, examining how bad the cuts were. They weren't actually that bad, they just bled a lot.
He shrugged. "I feel like a coward, but I sort of took my anger out on him. It feels like this island is the source of our troubles, and these guys think they can just float on in and score a deal and float on out, buying who knows what with that money. It just- it shouldn't be that easy."
My hands froze on his, and I looked up at him and nodded in understanding. They had supplies. They had weapons. They had food and water. What did we have? And unconscious Hispanic man, a hole, a rusty can, and a gun out of amo.
"We have each other," I spoke out loud. "If we...don't make it off of here Andrew, I'm glad I was stuck with you."
He smiled at me and nodded. "Right back at you Hannah, more than you know."
"Come on," I said, standing up. "Let's clean your wounds and think of a plan to get out of here."
* * *
October 22 5:34 PM
"The boat was an epic fail," I stated, pacing back and forth around a small tree that Andrew was leaning up against.
"We have to try harder," he said, looking up at me as I stopped and stared at him. "Maybe if we both try-"
"Okay, so we make a boat and get off this island. Then what? What about Jerardo? He knows we've been here, he knows our faces, and he knows that we know what's going on." I said, sitting down in front of him and crossing my legs. "Andrew we can make it off this island but we won't get far. That ocean is far too big for us to attempt to try and get home."
"Why does that matter? We're going to just sit and wait till we get rescued? Id rather die on the ocean trying to get home than sit and wait for death, Hannah." He said, giving me a pointed look.
"Don't say that," I snapped at him.
"Say what? Death?" He asked me, his voice full of tension and anger.
"Stop," I said in a low voice.
"Death! Death! Guess what, Hannah? We're going to die one day. Maybe not today, or tomorrow but we will die." He snapped, running his hands trough his hair.
"I don't want to die!" I screamed at him, my eyes watering. I wanted to punch myself for showing weakness over a simple fact, but I was absolutely scared out of my mind. Death was one thing that I always knew about, but never gave much thought to. I'd known growing up that I would die eventually, when the time was right, but Knowing that is seems like that time could be any minute scares me. It scares me because I'm not prepared, I'm not ready, I have so much planned for my future- which will be no more after death.
Andrew didn't say anything at my outburst, and the silence was almost deafening. I couldn't handle it anymore, so I got up and walked into the hole, jumping down and landing in my feet hard. I lost my balance and crumbled to my feet. Falling in all fours, I let out a silent sob. I want my family. I want my bed. I want my life back.
Death is a vast idea that I don't want to acquaint myself with; not yet.
* * *
October 22 7:45 PM
"Aye, loco girl," Jerardo said to me.
I was busy sitting by myself and wallowing in sadness when I looked up from a rock I was studying to see his curious face. "Yeah?"
"So you didn't kill your amigo?" He asked me, spitting a loogie to the side.
My face scrunched up in disgust. My amigo and I were currently avoiding each other. Go figure.
"Nope," I said. "We tricked you."
"So you ain't loco?" He asked me, looking at me in question.
"No," I answered him, "at least not yet." I smiled slightly.
"Aye!" He said, "Is that a threat?"
"That can be anything you want it to be." I said back, giving him a blank stare.
"I'm married," he said, his face shriveled up.
I snorted. "What would your wife think if you working for such a horrid company?"
"Kid, I don't expect you to understand." He grunted, wiping his beard in his shoulder as if to scratch it.
"Understand what?" I asked him, moving closer so I could hear him better.
"I do it for the money. I have two kids. You think working at Lowes will get them through college?" He asked me. "My familia is all I have."
"Can't you get a better job? One that will support your family? Surely you don't have to resort to this?" I asked him.
He shrugged. "I dropped out of high school. My padre got sick with cancer, and I needed to work full time to pay for his chemo."
"That's not fair," I said sadly, "what did your mom do? Surely she helped pay too?"
He laughed bitterly. "When she heard the news she got drunk and passed out. She died choking on her own vomit. I was his only hope."
"I'm sorry..." I said softly, "that you had to deal with that at such a young age."
"That's nothing compared to what you two are dealing with," he laughed. "My papi is now a can we survivor, and has
the chance to watch his grandchildren grow up. That's all I ever wanted for him, to grow old with me."
"Hard work pays off," I said out loud, thinking about how hard my mother had to work to watch over us kids when dad died. "My dad died when I was eleven," I started, "If was a..traumatizing experience."
"Aye, of you don't mind me asking, what happens to your papi?" He asked, scratching his beard again.
I smiled sadly, and my stomach clenched nervously. "Well, my dad was also a photographer, much like my mom. He went on all these adventures across the world with his assistant to take pictures of certain things. The Lights in Alaska, the tornados forming, anything. My great grandpa founded National Geographic, and my dad usually shot photos for that magazine."
"My daughter loves that magazine!" He said smiling, showing off his unusually white teeth.
I smiled back. "Me too." I sat up and took a deep breath before continuing. "Well, one day he hoped on a ship and set sail for the Galápagos Islands to take photos of this special rare turtle. That night there was a huge storm, and his ship sunk. Days later when they found the small ship all the bodies, including his assistants, were in the same room, the dinning room. All except my dads. His body was never found."
Jerardo didn't say anything as he looked at me. "Lo siento." He said eventually, smiling sadly. "No one deserves that."
I smiled back at him through my tears. I sighed, trying to control my composure. "I was at my moms wedding when we got stranded. I hadn't even talked her yet..."
"You're kidding?" He asked me. "Your mom got married on a ship?"
"Mhmm," I laughed softly, "She won't admit it, but I know why she did it. It was to honor my dad. He may have gotten lost at sea, but he's still in our hearts."
"So you're new dad...you like him?" He asked me.
"Dave?" I asked, smiling slightly. "Yeah, he's a cool guy. You know, I have eight siblings. My mom raised us on her own for three years."
"Your mother is a saint," he said, chuckling.
I smiled. "Yeah, she really is."
"You need to get off this island before my coworkers find you, loco girl. They will not hesitate to kill you. They don't have hearts, unlike me."
I nodded. "That's the plan, I just have to figure out how."
He didn't respond, and after a while I looked up and saw he was sleeping. I chuckled slight, and sniffled, wiping away my tears I stood up and wiped the sand off my butt. When i heard crackling and felt a lump in my back pocket, I froze. Quickly pulling it out, I unfolded the piece of paper and studied it in the horrible lighting that was left. The sun was going down, and it was practically dark out.
However, unlike most of the days, I had found something. Something that just might get Andrew and I off this island.
That's right, baby, Hannah Banana has a plan.
__________________________
I'm still on vacation, but we had a long drive so I figured I'd write instead of reading of my summer book for school oops.
I realized I always leave you guys off on cliff-hangers and I'm truly sorry for that. You guys are such troopers :) this chapter was longer, AND FINALLY WE KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO HANNAH'S DAD WHOOP so sad:(
Anyyywwwaayyy, have a marvelous day you little folks
Stay strong and smile for me:)
Peace out.