7 Chapter 7

I looked around, realizing that the taste of water had activated my thirst. Looking out at the lagoon and ocean, I murmured the old observation of the sailor: “Water, water everywhere, but never a drop to drink.”

“What—about a stream?” came the still slightly croaky voice of the Marine.

I went over and sat down on the sand next to him.

“You okay if I go look?” I asked him.

He frowned and nodded.

I looked at the line of jungle where the beach ended, a dozen yards away.

“Well, in your condition—” I shrugged. “There might be—wildlife.”

He appeared to consider.

“Help me sit up.”

I helped, and it wasn’t easy—him being so large and heavy. But we managed and the result was that his feet were now out of the water. On the other hand, the sun was starting to come out from the dispersing clouds.

“That was quick,” I said, looking up. “A real tropical storm.” Then, looking at my companion, I added, “You need to get out of the sun.”