"There might be a man on the island," Mirina said quietly.

"A good-looking man?" Cakey laughed.

---

 

32. Talking Wiggy Down
 

"You already know Mirina's secret," Wiggy told me. "It's our secret, too. You know."

"No, I don't know."

Wiggy put her hand on my upper arm and her mouth near my ear. "That nobody knows where we are."

While Wiggy was whispering to me, Mirina had rolled up the map and asked the girls to sit. Now that only three of us were standing, the whole group of girls saw me and Wiggy standing close, her head next to mine.

Mirina smiled. "I'm glad you two are friends again. It seemed like there was some... tension there earlier."

"Oh, yeah," I said, blushing.

Wiggy, equally embarrassed, took a step back. "I was just telling her something," she lamely explained.

"Did you tell her, I love you, Marcie, let's get kissy-wissy?" Knickers teased, and the other girls hooted and chuckled.

My face was burning red. I didn't want to look at Wiggy, but couldn't help but glance at her. Her cheeks were burning, too.

Mirina clapped her hands twice. "Come on, now girls! We're happy that Marcie and Wiggy made up, but let's sit down and have order. I still have two topics to cover."

Wiggy and I sat down next to each other between Cakey and Ding-Dong on one side and Graffy and Grooty on the other. We had to sit together; there was nowhere else to sit. Eight pairs of eyes watched our every move, as me and Wiggy, still blushing, sat down, crossed our legs, and awkward bumped each other with our knees. The silence and attention was embarrassing, and there really wasn't any reason for it. Wiggy is my friend: my best friend here. There's nothing more between us. We not girlfriends; we're just girls who are friends.

I knew that the Amazons knew that. They only wanted to tease us a little. So I gave Wiggy a nudge with my elbow, and she nudged me back. That was enough to break the spell.

"All right!" Mirina began. "The plan for tomorrow is this: in the morning, we relax." A cheer went up. "We swim, we eat, we sleep, whatever. Just remember: no girl goes anywhere alone. No girl does anything alone."

"Except in the bathroom!" Boogers put in, and everyone laughed.

"Even then," Mirina said, "her buddy has to wait for her."

"But not... we don't... we don't have to stand right outside those toilet... latrine... things, do we?"

"Of course not. The point is, someone must always know where you are. Someone must always see where you are. We can't afford to lose any one."

"Why would we lose anyone?"

Mirina's face twitched a bit. Once again I saw that look that she and Wiggy get from time to time, the look of a little girl trying bravely to act as the adult, but not quite feeling up to it.

"There might be a man on the island," she said quietly.

"A good-looking man?" Cakey laughed.

"I'm not joking," Mirina said. "We all saw the coat and the boots in the cave. Those are man's clothes, and they've obviously been used — used, worn by a man."

"Mirina," Wiggy cut in, "We all saw the coat and boots, yeah, but I also noticed that those clothes are old. They could have been hanging there for years!"

"Yes, and it was raining when we saw them," Ding-Dong added.

"And what the hell difference does that make?" Wiggy shot back in an irritated tone.

"Wiggy!" Mirina said, in a tone of caution.

Ding-Dong didn't speak. She looked mortally offended, and was clearly trying to keep her composure. I knew, just as everyone knew — except Wiggy — that Ding-Dong had had enough of Wiggy's condescension and distain. This time was the last straw.

Cakey understood what Ding-Dong was getting at, so she explained. "It makes a difference because if there *is* a man on the island, he would have wanted to wear his rain gear in the rain, not leave it hanging in the cave." She raised an eyebrow in Wiggy's direction. "That makes sense, doesn't it?" When Wiggy didn't answer, Cakey pressed the point. "What Belle said does make sense, doesn't it, Wiggy?"

"Yes," Wiggy grudgingly admitted.

"Look," Cakey said, speaking gently, as if walking on eggs. "Everybody knows that you're smart... and responsible. You plan everything... you do everything for us. We're all grateful. And we know that Belle irritates you sometimes." Ding-Dong glanced at Cakey and bristled a little, but she didn't say anything. Cakey turned to her friend and said, "I know a lot of that is my fault... I set you up sometimes... So, I'm sorry, too."

She turned back to Wiggy. "But you know that Ding-Dong has really come through, many times, since we got dumped on this island. She found the spring. She had the idea to use the raft to carry stuff. We wouldn't have gotten everything off the boat if it wasn't for her."

"Ship," Wiggy corrected.

"What?" Cakey asked. She wasn't sure she heard right.

"Ship," Wiggy repeated. "The Seward is a ship. Was a ship."

Silence descended on the group. Cakey took it in, fighting with her indignation, and shouted, "Fine! Ship! Ship! SHIP! Whatever! Just quit picking on Ding-Dong, will you? Leave Belle alone!"

Wiggy looked down, to hide her face. Then she shuffled awkwardly to her feet, hiding her tears with one hand. We all watched her in silence, unsure what she was about to do. Was she going to say something? Confess her own fears? Apologize to Ding-Dong? Cry out in anger and frustration?

It was none of that. She didn't say anything at all. Instead, Wiggy turned and abruptly ran off, into the night.

Mirina's jaw fell. Her face went white. Her arms shook uselessly for a moment, then she looked around her, as if searching for something. She found it. Bending down, she grabbed a flashlight and tossed it at me. "Marcie! Quick! Follow her! Two other girls with flashlights, follow Marcie! I don't want to lose anyone tonight!"

I jumped up and headed for the path Wiggy had taken, pumping the flashlight as I ran. As soon as I left the firelight, I came up against an apparent wall of darkness. I stopped and pumped the handle until the light came on. Then I kept on pumping for a bit to bring the charge up. As I did, Graffy and Grooty came running up to join me.

"Hi," I said gratefully.

"Come on," Graffy told me. "We'll all go find her together."

I hesitated, knowing what a fragile state Wiggy was in. "Um, listen... can you guys kind of follow me at a distance? I think it'll make it easier to talk to Wiggy. I'll stay on this path."

Grooty shined her light in my face. The twins glanced at each other, then gave silent shrugs of agreement.

"Thanks," I said. "Look: here's two signals. If I wave my light up and down like this, it means come join me. If I wave it back and forth like this, it means I found her and you can go back. Okay?"

Graffy frowned. "What do you mean, 'go back'? We're supposed to watch you."

"If I find Wiggy, you don't need to watch me. There'll be two of us, and we'll follow the path back to camp. I might need to talk to her for a bit."

The girls grudgingly agreed.

I turned away from them and took a few steps. It was like walking into a closet. The trees made a canopy above me, and darkness hung from the canopy, covering everything. The jungle had swallowed me up. There were plants on every side of me, brushing my legs and arms and dangling in my face. It was pretty unnerving. I caught myself taking shallow, claustrophobic breaths.

So I turned around.

In that direction I could see Graffy and Grooty, looking at me with puzzled expressions, and beyond them, in the clearing, the other girls gathered near the fire.

It was like night and day.

In the clearing were the fire and the girls, and behind them, the beach. Waves were breaking, wave upon wave. They must have been rolling in on all sides of the island, because even when I didn't see a wave breaking, I could hear the soft, constant rumble.

I turned around again, and faced the path. After fortifying myself with a deep breath, I stepped forward and found myself in a dark, silent world. Well, it would have been silent, if it weren't for the surf rolling and hissing in the background, like a massive white-noise machine.

I guess I expected crickets chirping or insects buzzing or owls hooting or something. Instead, there was nothing... except the eternal muffled thunder of surf in every direction. I kept walking, shining my light everywhere, pumping the handle every couple of steps. I didn't want it to cut out and leave me in the dark.

"Wiggy?" I called softly. The silence overawed me. It was hard to call her name. The foliage swallowed my calls like a heavy curtain. I licked my lips, cleared my throat, and shouted, "Wiggy! Wiggy, where are you?" and kept putting one foot in front of another.

She couldn't have stepped off the path, I told myself. The foliage is too thick. Plus, I thought — thinking for a moment the way Ding-Dong would have thought — there was no sign of breakage: if she pushed off the path, I'd see damage to the plants. Good thinking, Ding-Dong, I said, as though it was *her* idea.

I tried not to think, not to be afraid, not to feel alone. I reminded myself: I'm Marcie Donner. I've done harder things than this. I'm Marcie freakin' Donner.

"I'm Marcie Donner!" I shouted. And another voice inside me answered, Yes, right: I'm Marcie Donner, but what happened to me? Why have I become so passive! I've been just one of the girls, along for the ride. But was that a bad thing? Wiggy and Mirina and even Ding-Dong were doing more than me. Wasn't I supposed to be some sort of heroette? That's what Ms. Gifford had called me: a "teenage action heroette" — and she was a district attorney. She must know something about it.

So I squared my shoulders, and kept walking. "Wiggy! It's Marcie! Come on, I need to find you! Where are you, Wiggy?"

I walked for several minutes, putting one foot in front of the other, and forcing myself not to look back.

At last the path opened up and I saw her. She was sitting on a picnic table, under a tree. I recognized the place: it was where she and Cakey and I had taken our rain-shower together. Wiggy was perched on the table, her feet on the seat. She was hugging her knees and looked very scared. You could see she'd been crying — hard — but she wasn't crying now.

"Wiggy," I said, "Are you alright?"

"No," she said. "I'm not alright."

"Hang on a minute," I said, and turned back to face the way I'd come. Graffy and Grooty's light was visible down the path. They must have been fairly close. Otherwise, the plants would have hidden their light.

So now, what was the signal? I had to think for a minute: up and down meant "join me"; back and forth meant "Go away; I found her." I moved the light back and forth until they repeated the signal. Their light was obscured for a moment as they turned, and soon it went out.

"Who was that?" Wiggy asked.

"Graffy and Grooty. They were my backup."

Somehow I knew that Wiggy didn't want to be touched, and — as scared as she was in the dark — she wasn't ready to go back.

"Can I sit next to you, Wiggy?" I asked.

"Yes."

I sat down on the table with her, leaving about a foot of space between us.

"What are you thinking, Wiggy?"

"I'm such a failure, Marcie. I'm such a failure! I did SO MANY THINGS wrong!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I let everybody down, including you! *I* should have planned this trip. *I* should have handled the details! *I* would have made a real itinerary, and every parent would have had a copy. That's what I always do." She sniffed and wiped her nose. "Instead, I let somebody else do everything."

"An adult," I said. "You let an adult do it."

"An adult," she scoffed. "Do you know what an adult is? An adult is just a big kid. Being 'adult' doesn't mean anything! You take you or me or any of the girls here, or take any kid you know. Add a couple years, and poof! you have an adult. That's all. They'll still be the same inside. They could even be worse. Growing up doesn't automatically make you wise or responsible. Being older doesn't guarantee anything."

I was silent. I didn't know what to say, so I pumped the flashlight for a bit.

"*I* knew better. I did! I asked her What's the name of the island? Where is it? I needed to know; I should have insisted."

"Wiggy, it's not your fault. It isn't your responsibility."

"It is my responsibility! This is what I do! That's why I'm with the Amazons! It's not just so I can score a cool computer and take trips! I have a job to do!"

"Okay," I said, "Okay."

"It's not okay, Marcie. It's not. It's all wrong, and I have to fix it."

"What do you mean?" I asked, but I already knew what she meant.

"I have to get in the dory and go. I have to go get help. Otherwise, we will never be rescued."

"You don't know that, Wiggy."

"I *do* know that."

"You don't." I insisted. "You don't. You suspect. You think. But you don't know. None of us do."

"So what would it take for us to know? If we're still here next year, will we know then?"

"You don't have to be sarcastic, Wiggy. I'm on your side."

The sneer fell from her face. In a softer voice she said, "Sorry."

"Yeah, and you have to watch it with Ding-Dong—"

"I know, I know," she said, cutting me off. "It's just a habit. A bad habit. When we go back, I'll apologize. I'll work on it. I'll stop. I promise."

"Okay," I said. That was one thing settled. Now we had to deal with the other. I had to get a handle on Wiggy's idea of rowing away. For sure I couldn't make her give up the idea. As long we had the dory and were stuck on the island, she'd keep thinking about it, wanting to do it. I needed some way to keep her crazy feeling on a leash.

"Wiggy, about rowing away in the dory..." I felt her stiffen up, so I paused. I suddenly felt like one of those negotiators, you know? The people who talk somebody down off a ledge, or try to keep them from jumping off a bridge? I had to be really, really careful in what I said next, or I could lose her. If I lost her, if she didn't think she could trust me, she'd just get up early one morning — probably tomorrow morning — and leave without me. If she did that, I might never see her alive again.

So I said, "You will take me with you, right? Do you promise?" Even in the darkness, I could feel her relax.

"Yes, yes!" she said, and slid up close to give me a tight, breath-taking hug. "Yes, I'll take you with me! It'll be great! I've already drawn up a list of what we need... in my head, of course..."

"Of course, of course," I said. "In your head. But when do we leave? That's the question."

"Tomorrow," she replied. "First light."

"But, Wiggy," I said. "Suppose we *do* get rescued. Suppose somebody comes while you and me are out at sea. Then they'll have to do two rescues, and we'll kind of look like idiots."

Wiggy took it in. "Yeah, I guess," she admitted. "So what are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking this: if anybody does know where we are, they'll be here on Saturday, or Sunday at the latest. Right?"

"Right," she agreed. "If they know where we went, Sunday at the latest."

"So we go Monday... or Tuesday."

Wiggy took the flashlight from my hands and lit up my face with it. She looked at me in silence for a few moments. "You're not trying to slow me down, are you?" she asked.

"No, no, of course not!" I protested. Then, to sound more believable, I added, "Well, yes. Of course I'm trying to slow you down. We have to give some time, in case we get rescued. By Monday... or Tuesday... we'll know for sure if anyone knows where we are. *Then* we can go."

She looked at my face in the torchlight for a few silent moments. I waited in agony, trying desperately to keep my face from betraying the anxiety I felt.

"Okay," Wiggy agreed. "Monday. Monday morning."

"Or Tuesday," I added. "Tuesday's good, too."

© 2008 by Kaleigh Way

[OTHER STORIES]

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Thanks to Annette for help with the tropical background.