I sat down with my back to the rock wall and put my hands on my belly.

"Oh, Lord," I said, "let this baby be a small one and make it come out easy." Then I drifted back to sleep.

---

 

36. Where's Wiggy?
 

In the middle of the night — I don't know when exactly — my stomach woke me with its pre-volcanic rumblings. Maybe it wasn't my stomach... it could have been some deeper part of my inner plumbing, but something wasn't right down there.

Everyone else was asleep, although how they could sleep with the noise I my guts were making, I don't know. I felt as though I was pregnant with twins... twin lizards or twin monkeys, or maybe a lizard and a monkey, or a dog and a bear, but whatever the two things were, they were fighting it out inside my belly, no holds barred.

It reminded me of nothing so much as the night I came from Ida's house after eating her awful dinner. That cheesecake... and the liver...

Oh! Don't remind me!

A noise came out of me like a low voice shouting boo wow! drawing the wow part out long, for emphasis. It made me jump, and I felt it coming. I glanced around at the other girls, but they were still sleeping. By the light of the candle in the next room I could make out their sleeping forms, and no one was moving. All there was to hear were the soft, gentle sounds of blonde cheerleaders sleeping. They even sounded girly in their sleep. It was all too cute.

Although I knew it wasn't cold, I wrapped myself in my blanket and made my way to the mouth of the cave. There, I'd be free to wimper and burp and possibly break wind without disturbing the other girls. And if I needed the bathroom, it would be closer at hand.

We'd left a candle burning in the entryway, in case our rescuers came by night. By its light I found one of the flashlights and pumped it up. Then I sat down with my back to the rock wall and put my hands on my belly.

"Oh, Lord," I said, "let this baby be a small one and make it come out easy." Then I drifted back to sleep.
 

---

 

After what seemed like months, or even years, had passed over the earth, I felt someone shaking me awake. It was Wiggy.

"Marcie!" she hissed, "What are you doing out here? I brought your clothes. They're in the boat; you can get changed there. Come on, now, everything's ready."

"Okay," I said. "Oooh!"

"What's the matter?"

"My stomach, my head. I don't feel so good."

Wiggy touched my forehead. She swore. "You've got a fever, Marcie! You're sick! Now I can't take you! Oh, no, oh no! I don't want to go alone!"

"Then don't go alone," I said. "Wait until I'm better. We might get rescued in the meantime."

She hesitated, but only for a moment. "No," she said. "We know that nobody's coming. Another day of waiting is another day wasted. I should have gone before."

"Then take me, Wiggy, take me," I said. "I'll be fine. It'll pass. Come on! I'll sleep a little more and it will pass."

She wrestled with herself in silence for a few moments. I added, "At the very worst, you won't be alone."

"Okay," she said, and helped me to my feet.

I hurried along as quickly as I could, feeling bloated and ill. It was like being pregnant with a full toxic load of fermented coconut juice. It sloshed and churned within me.

When we got halfway to the dock, a light snapped on behind us and caught us in its beam. Mirina's voice called out, "Where are you two going? Wiggy, Marcie, stop! Hey! I said STOP!"

"Oh, that's all we need," Wiggy said, stepping up the pace. "Look, Marcie, I..."

"Don't leave without me, Wiggy! Don't do it! I don't want you to go alone!"

"Move a little faster, or I'll have to!" she replied. "If I stop now, Mirina will make sure that I *never* go!"

I huffed and puffed, and tried to move faster without shaking the volatile mixture within me.

"Oh, hurry up, can't you?" Wiggy cried. We were still a few yards from the dock.

Behind us, I heard Mirina calling into the cave for help. Then she came running after us.

"I gotta go!" Wiggy said, in a fearful voice. "Sorry, Marcie!"

"No, no!" I cried, and then a sharp pain shot through the inside of me like a blade of white blazing fire. I couldn't speak or walk or even see. To make a long story short, I turned and vomited like a fire hose. Sorry to be disgusting, but once it started, it kept on coming. I had no control. I fell to my knees.

I felt Mirina's hand touch me on the shoulder. "I'll be back for you," she said, and then I heard her feet as she ran on the dock.

"Wiggy! Where on earth do you think you're going?"

"I'm going to get help," Wiggy answered. Her paddles softly splashed. "I left a note on the table. I found another map. There's an island nearby, Mirina. I can row there and get us help."

"Wiggy, you can't do it! Come back! It's crazy!"

"I can do it! I know I can!" Her paddling continued, and her voice grew fainter.

"Oh, Wiggy, don't," Mirina pleaded. "Don't. We have to stay together. I need you. The girls need you. Marcie needs you, too. I'm begging you, Wiggy. Don't do this. You could die!"

"I'm sorry, Mirina," Wiggy replied, "Read my note. I'm sure this is the only way. No one knows where we are. If I don't go and get some help, we could be stuck here forever."

"Not forever! Wiggy! Wiggy!" And then one last desperate wail: "WIGGY!"

At that point I fell to the ground. I curled up inside myself and faded to black.
 

---

 

I don't think I was tired. I actually felt pretty good when I'd gone to be the night before. Boogers had noticed that my coconut was a bit softer than the rest, and after I'd drunk all its milk she told me that it smelled bad.

"Why did you drink that, Marcie? Ooh! It smells like it's gone off."

"I couldn't find the expiration date," I joked.

Still, I hadn't noticed any smell. There was a slight tang in the taste, but what do I know about coconut milk?

And, there were no immediately side effects. Boogers figured that if I was going to get food poisoning, I'd get it in a half hour.

But she was wrong. It came several hours later, some time late in the night.

Now... I was still sick. Wiggy said I had a fever. Mirina said she'd come back for me. She wanted to stop Wiggy first, to talk some sense into her, but there was no stopping that girl. She must have jumped in the boat and started rowing. In the dark. I'm sure we would have waited for first light, but Mirina's arrival pushed Wiggy to start earlier.

Now she'd be alone, in the open Pacific. Dear God, I hope she knows what she's doing.

Then there came a whoosh! in my left ear, and suddenly I relaxed all over. I didn't feel sick any more. But I wasn't awake. I must have been asleep and dreaming, knowing I was dreaming. I looked at my hands, at my clothes... I was still wearing the same clothes.

This is how that Marcie Auburn business started, I told myself, so I quickly did an anatomical inventory. Yup: I was still Marcie Donner.

In my dream I was in a black space. There was nothing there, only me. I could see myself, but I *was* myself at the same time. I stood up and walked. I felt myself walking and saw myself walking at the same time.

There was nothing to see and nowhere to go. "This is a hell of a dream," I said out loud, and I sat down on the ground and waited. "I could do this awake!" I called, to whoever was in charge. What else could I do? Was there anything I could do? What would I do, if I could do something in this dream? I would get into someone else's dream, tell someone where we are, that we're on this island, and that Wiggy is out at sea in a tiny boat.

If I could only go home, or go anywhere just for a moment, I'd give the message, tell them we're on Muktaphala — hoping they'd remember the name was enough, and that the name would be enough.

Oh, and I'd have to tell them about the adults. They needed rescuing, too.

But how could I go anywhere?

Maybe in this dream world I could tell someone else, like my mother or father. Could they hear me in their dreams?

But how could I do that?

Maybe I could tell Brenda Earshon, the psychic. Could I call to her? Would she hear me?

For a while I shouted into the darkness, calling someone... anyone... but there was no one there. I could tell no one was listening.

In my dream I got tired, so I lay down on the ground. I lay down on the ground, and in my dream I slept.
 

---

 

Then it was day. I was lying on something soft and covered by a soft blanket. I heard a woman sigh.

My eyes didn't open yet. I just lay still, unmoving. I took inventory. There was no hurry. First of all, I was soaked in sweat. I was wearing my pajamas. I was lying in a bed, a real bed, not a camp bed. I was on dry land, not in a cave, not on a ship. I was in a room, and there was sunlight everywhere. It was morning, I think.

My fever had broken. That's why I was so sweaty. I felt better now. Weak, but no longer sick.

And I knew the sound of that sigh. It was my mother.

"Mom?" I asked, experimentally.

"I'm right here, honey," she replied.

"Oh, how did I get here?" I asked.

"Now, that's a story," she said, "but don't worry about that now."

"So we were rescued?" I asked. Stupid question. Of course we were rescued.

Mom laughed. "Rescued? I guess you could say that."

I sat up with a start. "Where's Wiggy?" I asked her.

"Right here, honey, right here, at home," Mom answered.

"Wiggy's here?" I asked. "Why isn't she at her house?"

"Marcie, what are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? What do you think I'm talking about?" I demanded.

"I thought you asked Where are we?"

"No, I asked Where's Wiggy? Do you know? Is she alright?"

Mom furrowed her brow, not understanding. "Who's Wiggy?" she asked. "Is she one of your teddy bears?"

"No, Mom, no! Wiggy! Wiggy! You know, the short girl with glasses and the funny creaky voice? The one who made all the reporters get out of the way?"

My mother shrugged helplessly.

"Wiggy! You know her! She's the one who came to take me to the airport, for the flight to Hawaii!"

"Oh, that Wiggy!" Mom said, laughing.

"Finally! Now do you know who I'm talking about?"

"No, honey. I don't know any Wiggy. It must have been a dream you had."

"No," I said. "No. It wasn't a dream. Wiggy came here. You met her. We went to an island in the South Pacific with a bunch of cheerleaders — the Amazons — from the high school that Mrs. Means went to. St. Oda's. Oh, come on, Mom, you know this."

My mother, highly amused, shook her head.

"So was it Hawaii, or the South Pacific?" she asked.

"It was both. We flew from Newark to Hawaii, and from there to... uh, someplace that starts with Pa— Pa-something, and then to Bora Bora, and from there we took a sailing ship to Muktaphala."

"Honey, I don't even think Bora Bora is a real place," Mom said. "It's just a funny name they say on TV."

"I know it's real," I shot back, "because I've been there!"

"All right," Mom said, "all right. Calm down, now. Don't get all excited. You've been sick, and you still need to rest."

"I can't rest," I said. "I have to know about the other girls, that they're alright, too."

"It's okay," she said. "I'll call their mothers and let you know."

"Don't humor me, Mom. How can you call them if you don't believe they exist?"

I cast around for something to do... someone to call. Then it hit me: Rhonda Means! I had to call Rhonda Means, my father's boss! She would know Mirina's father, and through her I could find out everything.

"What are you thinking?" Mom asked cautiously. "I don't like that look on your face."

I looked behind her at my bedroom windows, the ones that overlook the front yard.

And in the front yard, there would be an army of reporters! They would know everything! They'd know I went away, they'd want details... I could tell them my story if they, in return, would tell me what happened with the girls and the crew.

I jumped out of bed and ran to the window. The front yard was empty.

"Where are the reporters?" I asked, astonished.

"You almost sound disappointed," Mom replied. "They all left yesterday. Mrs. Gifford called and told me why, but I didn't get it, it went in one ear and out the other."

"Mom!" I cried in disappointment. "How can you not know? Are they down at the courthouse?"

"No, I think they're gone from there, too. You could call Mrs. Gifford if you want to know why. Of course she wants to talk to you, and she was really put out when I told her you were sick."

"But... but..."

"Marcie, when she called, I had something urgent to do, and I couldn't listen. I was just so thankful that they left! I'm sure your father knows the reason."

"Is he here?"

"No, he's at work."

I sighed. It was just impossible. This was worse than being Marcie Auburn. At least there I had a half a dozen reasons to explain what was happening. Here it was all just a dream? That made no sense. No sense at all.

"Mom," I said. "I can't believe that all I experienced on that island was only a dream. It was too real."

"Sometimes dreams seem very real," she offered, while guiding me back to my bed.

I sat on the edge of the mattress. She sat in a chair, facing me. "But, Mom, I did things, I met people. I *learned* things and *experienced* things that I don't know anything about in real life. It had to have happened."

"Mmm," she said. "And how long were you on this island?"

I counted in my head. "Almost eight days."

She nodded. "Eight days. Did you get a tan while you were there? Did you get sunburned?"

I laughed. "Sure, we were outside all the time!"

She picked up my pale arm and said, "Oh, I see."

Stunned, I rolled up the leg of my pajamas, and saw smooth, pale skin. "What happened to it?" I asked. "Mom, how long was I asleep?"

"Well, you woke up a few times briefly yesterday, to go to the bathroom, but I don't think you were really there... you still had the fever..."

I waved my hands impatiently.

"All right, missy! Let's say you slept all day yesterday. So it's..." she looked at the ceiling while she calculated mentally "... you've been asleep for 30-something hours, give or take."

My mouth fell open. "Since I got back?"

"Since *we* got back."

"What do mean we?" I asked.

"I mean that since you and I got back from Ida's house, you've been sleeping. You were sick, you had a fever."

"No," I said.

"Yes," she replied.

"What day is today?"

"It's Friday."

"Friday? It can't be Friday! What's today's date?"

"December 29th."

"No, no, no! When Wiggy left the island, it was Monday, a week after New Years! And now it's Friday? How much school have I missed?"

My mother reached out to touch my forehead. "You haven't missed any school. New Year's is this Monday, and school starts a week after that."

"But Wiggy, Mom! Wiggy! Where is Wiggy?"

© 2008 by Kaleigh Way

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