A Man, a Girl, a Deserted Island - - A Crazy Epic Love Saga

Episode 38: Poor Little Things

"I can't take it anymore," groans Eva, holding her hands to her stomach.

I believe her, and I understand. I can't take it anymore either. If I eat even one more turtle egg, my stomach will burst.

"Oh, I'm dying," the girl moans with her eyes closed.

"Don't die. Take a sip of water," I advise gently.

I don't want her to die. I've only had sex with her once, and that encounter was pretty pathetic. I don't want things to stay that way.

"Don't die, Eva!" I tell her. "I might still need you."

The girl opens one eye and asks me pitifully:

"But do you still have the strength to talk? How many eggs did you eat?"

Right! How many were there? Twenty? Forty?

Turtle eggs are quite nauseating when eaten raw. However, they're very tasty when cooked slowly in the sand. That's how we cooked them.

How many have I eaten? I don't answer. I use the little energy I have left to sharpen this stick very well. I craft a fine skewer.

Eva struggles to sit up and drinks some water, then wipes her mouth and exclaims:

"Poor thing! Look at her suffering. She's flipped over. How did that happen?"

I glance briefly at the turtle lying on its back on the sand. It moves lazily with its legs but has no chance of righting itself.

"Look, there's another one overturned!" Eva exclaims in amazement. "And another one further down. Poor little things!"

The girl gets up and takes a few steps, then turns back to me and makes a cute gesture with her finger.

"Come here, Tiberiu. Help me. I can't turn them over alone. We have to turn them over."

"No, we don't have to," I reply calmly. "Leave them there; they're fine like that. They're our food, girl! I turned them over. I've flipped about seventeen. What you see there is... our pantry."

Eva stares at me motionless. She doesn't even blink.

"Why are you surprised? You're an intelligent girl," I praise her. "Are you pretending not to understand? You know we need meat. Have you forgotten that you were starving yesterday?"

"What are you planning to do with them?" she asks coldly.

"I'm going to cook them. You'll see, it's simple! I've already figured out how: bury them in the sand and make a big fire above. The shell will act as an oven, and the meat will be... the tenderest meat you've ever tasted."

"What did you say?"

Eva approaches me with slow cat-like movements. I look at her a bit worried. 

What's with her? What's wrong with her face?

"For God's sake, Eva, you didn't think I was going to fry them alive, did you?" I quickly say. "Don't worry! It'll be painless. I'll kill them first with this skewer I've been crafting for the past hour, and only then will I cook them."

"Excuse me?" Eva hisses, shooting lightning from her black eyes.

I feel a bit awkward. This situation seems funny to me. Either she's stupid, or I'm not explaining well.

"Wait a moment, Eva. Wait! Everything will be humane; we're not barbarians!" I lift the skewer and show her the very sharp tip: "Look, see this? I'll stick it through the shell near the neck and pierce their hearts. 'Pac,' and it's done! Death will be instantaneous. They won't feel a thing!"

"Never!" she screams as if out of her mind and snatches the stick from my hand in one swift motion.

"But I... I'm a man!" I retort angrily. "I'm hungry! I need meat! Give me back the stick, damn it! Why are you screaming like that? Have you gone mad, woman?!"

Eva lifts the stick and snaps it like a toothpick. 

My God! She's strong.

"Don't you touch them, murderer!" she yells, throwing the pieces at me. Then she suddenly raises her hands towards me with her fingers spread and hisses: "If I catch you hurting them, I'll gouge your eyes out! Murderer!"

Gouge my eyes out? Me, who gave her food? 

Me?

Hmm... she's capable of it, from the way she's looking at me. I take a step back and look at her. She confronts me like an enraged Amazon. The wind plays in her hair, and her scowling face doesn't bode well.

"Why aren't you reasonable..."

"Shut up!" she screams sharply. "If you say another word, I'll gouge your eyes out and make you eat them!"

Wild as a rabid cat. She's lost her mind. I'm scared, but I try not to show it.

"Fine, I mutter with my shoulders slumped. I got it, uhh... hint. I'm not stupid. Okay, keep your hands to yourself."

The girl doesn't listen to me anymore. She goes to the nearest turtle and lifts it as if it were nothing, turning it over. Then she goes to another. 

And another.

I look on with regret! One by one, those cursed creatures with four legs head back to the water and disappear into the waves. Fuck! I've never seen turtles move so lively. It's like they're in a race.

Damn it... the beach is empty. All my tender meat has fled into the waves. Dinner's over.

"Congratulations, lunatic!" I mutter. "Well done! Now we'll eat roasted eggs until we both get hepatitis."

But Eva is already gone.

For the rest of the day, each of us walked on our own piece of the island. Whenever we were in danger of meeting, we elegantly avoided each other in silence, like two nuclear superpowers threatening each other with their fingers on the button, but neither of them really wanting to press it.

In the evening, the miracle happened. Eva appears out of nowhere, lies down next to me, and calmly says:

"I've forgiven you. I give in first. I understand the situation: you had a temporary bout of madness. You're forgiven, but don't let it happen again. Look, to show you I'm not mad anymore, I'll let you hold me in your arms."

"No, thanks!" I reply grumpily. "It's not necessary."

She looks at me and, surprisingly, has the audacity to smile at me. Well, this time it won't work for her.

"I'm nobody's toy," I murmur resentfully. "Got it?"

"Does that mean you're going to let me sleep alone tonight?" she asks innocently.

Her audacity leaves me speechless. I feel suffocated. Am I dreaming? Do I deserve this? After all I've done for her? 

Oh yes, women are ungrateful! I'm determined to teach her a lesson.

"Yes, you'll sleep alone tonight. And every other night!"

"Meaning? Are you leaving the island?"

"Yes, I'm leaving!"

"Fine," she says upset. "I hope at least you didn't eat all the eggs, she adds. Are there any left?"

I look at her stunned.

"I'm hungry," she says, shrugging. "Where's the food? You promised to feed me."

She has the look of a child demanding a beating. She really wants it. 

I sigh and leave. I feel the urge to walk and throw myself into the waves. 

Maybe I'll find a kinder shark.