Survival Instinct

“Okay. Let me find something to bail with.” Scott scavenged around until he found an old plastic bucket that had clearly been a child’s sand toy, but was now faded and cracked. “This probably washed up on shore here, or someone left it behind, but it should work for what we need.”

“Perfect,” Abby agreed. “Now, let’s get his canoe down to the dock and see if she holds water.”

They hoisted up the canoe and found it to be more cumbersome than heavy. After walking a couple of minutes and making little progress with the canoe impeding each step, they lowered it to the ground and Scott suggested, “Why don’t I just carry it over my head?”

“Can I help you?”

“I think it would be easier if I just did it myself.”

Abby stood back as he hoisted the boat up over his shoulders and above his head.

“Have you got it? Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

“I’m fine.” Scott took a few awkward steps toward the dock, then quickly found his rhythm and increased his pace. “It’s much easier this way,” he explained, his voice only slightly strained from effort, “and I’m afraid you’re enough shorter than I am that it would make it more difficult if we both carried it than if I just do it by myself. Besides, you’ll need to save your arm strength for paddling.”

Abby understood his reasoning, but she couldn’t help thinking he was carrying a heavier burden than he needed to. Still, she had to admit he was moving much faster with the canoe on his own than when she’d been trying to help him carry it.

Marilyn and Mitch pulled in their poles as Scott and Abby approached.

“You found a boat?” Marilyn asked with excitement.

Mitch looked wary. “Will that thing even float? It looks like it’s a hundred years old.”

“Look at it this way, Mitch,” Scott huffed once he’d lowered the canoe onto the soft sand. “If the canoe doesn’t get us to the next island, then I can try your idea of swimming for it.”

At the incredulous expression on Mitch’s face, Abby couldn’t resist chiming in. “Really, the canoe only has to get us halfway there,” she explained in a mock-serious voice. “Once we get within a mile of the island, we can swim for it.”

“Oh, I think the water is awfully cold for that.” Marilyn shuddered.

Abby knew she was right, but she didn’t amend her statement. If anything happened to them in the water, Marilyn would be less concerned if she thought Abby and Scott had been prepared to swim for it.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere in that thing,” Mitch insisted.

“I don’t expect you to,” Scott explained. “Abby and I are just going to take it over to Rocky Island. There’s a Park Ranger stationed there, and he can call for help to come and get you two. This canoe is really only meant to hold two people, and I’d rather not have Mom out on the lake if we have to swim for it after all.” He announced their plans with an air of finality, and then scooted the canoe into the water next to the dock.

“Abby, do you have any more of that floss to tie our bucket to the canoe?” he asked. “I don’t want to lose it once we get out on the lake.”

“I used it all on the fishing poles,” Abby called after him. The floss had been a small sample from her dentist she hadn’t bothered to take out of her purse after her last appointment.

Marilyn handed Abby the two fishing poles. “Here. We won’t need these anymore.”

The waxed floss had already started unraveling from the knots she’d used to tie the earring lures in place. Abby quickly slid the slick string back and pulled the earrings free. “You’ll want these back,” she said, handing them over.

“No, really.” Marilyn crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing her shoulders as though to comfort herself. “I’d rather not.”

Unsure whether the woman’s impulse had to do with regret at leaving the other gems aboard the Helene, or if Marilyn simply didn’t want part of her jewelry without the rest, Abby decided not to push her, given her emotionally fragile state. She shoved the earrings deep into her back pocket for safekeeping, and realized at the same time she was acquiring quite a bit of jewelry in her pockets. After all, she still had the ring in the pocket at her hip, its tiny prick a sharp reminder of all that still lay before her.