Castaways - Marooned
Thanks to Mitzi for editing.
This is in response to Setcheti's Jan Challenge :- To rewrite a movie or TV Show with the guys from Mag 7, but no crossovers. And it must be a new AU.
Okay, here goes...The Magnificent Seven in the theme of Gilligan's Island... LOL
Just sit right back and you'll hear
a tale, a tale of a fateful trip - that started in this tropic port,
aboard this tiny ship. (Well that’s if you can call a hundred
foot long yacht - a tiny ship >g<)
“Buck,” Chris Larabee greeted,
swinging down the gangplank and onto the freshly painted and refurbished
yacht. It was the largest vessel in the marina and at one hundred
feet in length; it was definitely the envy of more than a number of
sailors. Both Chris and Buck were joint owners of the lumbering
giant. It had been a bequeath that had seen them fortunate enough
to lay claim to the vessel. Now they had big plans to see them
into retirement. But for that, they needed a steady flow of cash.
And that was something that neither man was abundant with at present.
Wilmington glanced up from what he
was doing and smiled broadly. “Hey, Chris,” he broke into an
even wider grin as he noticed the three-piece suit his partner was
wearing. Chuckling, he thought - better him than me. “Ya
dig those out of moth balls?” he ribbed.
“Real funny, Wilmington,” Chris
responded dryly; scowling at the unfamiliar clothing that restricted his
normal movements. He cast a reflective glance around the pristine
deck and nodded appreciatively. “Is everything set? No
last minute hic-ups?” God he hoped not.
“Yep, she’s ready to pull out
whenever you give the word, Captain. Tanner’s already here; got
him spit polishing the toilet,” he barked with laughter.
“Buck,” Chris warned with a
“Just pulling yer leg, ole boy.
He ain’t doing anything but looking over the tub at present,
‘getting a feel for the layout’ as he said.”
“That’s the security guard
coming out in him,” Larabee informed.
“Yeah, whatever. Like
we’re gonna be needing security.” He glanced up at the
cloudless blue heavens and raised his arms beseechingly. “Could
still arrange to have Colette and Simone to be our bathing beauties,”
he grinned. At the blonde’s rolled eyes, he shrugged.
“Next time, huh?”
“This old bird ain’t gonna be
interested in young girls in skimpy bikinis,” Chris reasoned.
“We’re trying to get her to invest money with us, so we can get this
business up and running. The last thing on her mind will be
wanting dithering blondes dropping the canapés in her lap or spilling
the champagne down her dress. I want this to go well, Buck,” he
pleaded. “We can make this happen, with just a little bit of
capital. That’s where Mrs Devereux comes in.”
“She gonna help us, ya think?”
the moustached man asked sceptically.
“She seemed real interested in my
plans, and I’ve met with her a number of times now. Showed her
all the books and figures and explained what we’ve proposed for the
future. Start off small, and in no time, we’ll have a fleet of
these little beauties to command,” he affectionately patted the side
of the launch. “The market is out there just waiting for us,
Buck. We’ll have customers crawling to get on our waiting
lists,” he predicted. “And the way you sweet-talk the women,
that’s gotta be a bonus,” he added. “What about Josiah?
When’s he coming?”
“Josiah’ll be here in plenty of
time and Nathan’s coming with him. Don’t worry.”
“Great, the cook’s bringing the
doc,” Larabee shook his head in amusement. “What’s Nathan
planning on doing?” It wasn’t Chris’ idea to have the
dark-skinned man on board for these final negotiations with Mrs
Devereux, but at Wilmington’s suggestion he relented. It
couldn’t do any harm to have a doctor on board.
“It’s good for the image,
Chris. Having plenty of crew, as well as a gourmet chef and
resident doctor on board are an added extra. And besides, Nate’s
got the day off. You know how hard he works at the hospital; he
could do with a break. Being a resident ain’t all it’s cracked
up to be.”
“Yeah,” he agreed hesitantly,
“Okay.” Buck clapped him firmly on the shoulder and pushed him
to the yacht’s side. “You meeting this lady someplace?
Or is she coming straight here?”
“She’s coming here.
There’s a few things I’ve got to do before she gets here, but I’ll
be back before she arrives.” Looking over his partner’s shabby
clothing he tugged at the torn shirt and grimaced. “Reckon you
ought to change, before she arrives.” He turned to leave and
threw a wicked smile at his oldest friend; “Good for the image, pard,”
he mimicked Buck’s earlier words.
An elegant black stretch
limousine pulled into the car park of the marina. The engine
didn’t stop, but idled with the windows and doors remaining sealed in
position. Both Buck and Chris stared curiously at the vehicle
wondering why its occupant didn’t immediately get out.
Tanner stepped up behind his
friends, resting his arm on Chris’ shoulder. “That her?”
Before Larabee had the chance to reply the doors swung open and a
well-dressed sandy-haired gentleman exited the limo. “Obviously
not,” Tanner drawled, returning to the business of uncurling the ropes
that held the launch to the pylons.
The young man saluted the unseen
driver with a two-fingered gesture and once the vehicle had departed he
glanced down the walkway, hoisting a duffle bag over his shoulder.
He smiled, holding out his hand to shake and announcing simultaneously;
“I’m Ezra Standish, Maude Devereux’s son. I’ll be giving
my evaluations to her upon our return,” he promptly informed, stepping
past the stunned partners and on board the ‘Sarah’.
“Great,” Larabee groaned
following in the wake of the brash, overconfident, born with a silver
spoon in his mouth, yuppie.
Standish stood waiting for Larabee
and Wilmington to join him. He noticed Tanner lift his head and
frown in confusion. His unexpected arrival had obviously caused a
stir in the ranks. Always keep them off centre; never permit
anyone to anticipate the obvious. Never show real emotions; not
unless you want them turned against you. He didn’t want to admit
it, but his training came back at him again and again. So much to
be thankful for, he thought sarcastically.
He cast an assessing gaze over the
outer deck and nodded his head slightly in approval. The yacht had
to be at least ten years old, but she’d been kept in good condition.
It was clear that these two partners were serious about their new
venture. Pity it was never going to get off the ground.
Well, not with his mother’s endorsement leastwise.
Anxious to leave the dock he asked;
“Shall we be departing soon? As I have another commitment that
must be attended to immediately upon returning. I trust you will
not deviate from the scheduled itinerary? The tour is only to last
three hours?” He glanced at his watch and up at Larabee and
across to Wilmington to confirm, “That is correct, is it not?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” Buck
agreed, eyeing the younger man with growing disdain. What a snob!
Where was the lovely, and easily manipulative, Mrs Devereux that Chris
had negotiated with? How were they going to convince the young son that
their project was feasible? Was it even worth the effort taking
Standish out? “I’ll go start her up,” he looked quickly to
Chris, who nodded dubiously, confirming all his unspoken concerns.
“Mr Standish,” the boat owner
started, “I was under the impression Mrs Devereux would be joining us
herself. There was never any mention…”
“Mother was unavoidably
detained,” Ezra explained, but not really explaining anything.
“Can we start with a tour?” he diverted.
Chris pursed his lips, staring
balefully at the arrogant Southerner. “Sure,” he eventually
complied after a long strained silence between the pair.
The launch had been out to sea
for an hour, and she handled well over the unsteady swells.
Larabee had shown Standish over the yacht, pointing out all the new
acquisitions and modifications. There were three generous sized bedrooms
in the lower section, an updated galley and numerous cupboards and cubby
holes filled to the brim with paraphernalia. There were plans to
acquire a jet ski and parasail chutes in the near future with the growth
of their business.
He was introduced officially to
Buck Wilmington, Chris’ full partner and capable captain in his own
right and Vin Tanner, who was along, under the guise as a crewmember.
After the tour was completed, Ezra met with Nathan Jackson. All in
all, it only took a little under half an hour, leaving the remainder of
the journey to be spent relaxing. Although, the wily Southerner
suspected that Larabee and his motley crew would have been more
entertaining and attentive if it had been his mother here instead of
Ezra relaxed back in the lounge
chair stretching his legs out and taking another mouthful of the chilled
champagne. Truth be told, he’d much prefer a cold beer instead
of the bubbly wine. But he had to remind himself that the
champagne and hors d'oeuvres were intended as incentives for his mother
to invest, and not him.
An older man sat down opposite,
uninvited, offering another tray ladened with garnished appetisers.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Mr
Standish?” his voice boomed loudly.
“The cruise has been rather…
pleasant, Mr…?” he paused waiting for grey headed man to supply his
“Sanchez, Josiah Sanchez.”
He held out his hand and shook the younger man’s.
“May I enquire why a gourmet
chef is tinkering the pots in the galley of this…” he waved his hand
at the boat, “cruiser?”
“Buck and Chris are my
friends,” he retorted indignantly, not allowing the insult to slide by
without addressing. “I’m doing them a favour by being here.”
Actually, Josiah was looking for a sign - a new meaning to his life.
The aging chef needed some direction, and working in the kitchen of the
well-known Ritz was not giving him any fulfilment. He didn’t
know if this was where he was going to find it, but he had to start
somewhere. He already felt a sense of belonging, urging him stay.
He wondered what Chris and Buck would say if he asked to stay on as the
“Is it really going to help
them in the long run? Masquerading as the chef, when we both know
that should Mr. Larabee and Mr. Wilmington get the influx of cash from
Mother, that you wouldn’t be part of the deal? That they will
have to find permanent staff to outrig this vessel, and subsequent
others, which in turn has not been accounted for in the costs and
figures already presented.”
“Guess you’ve never done
anything for a friend before!” he snapped, banging the tray down and
leaving the Southerner to the quiet of the empty deck. He’d talk
to Chris. Hell, Josiah wouldn’t mind working for free – for a
short time in any rate.
Ezra sighed, wincing at the heavy
footfalls that echoed away from him. “That went well,” he
drawled. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and
forefinger. Closing his eyes, he massaged the ache that was
beginning to set in. He rolled his neck on his shoulders, lifted
his hand from his face and squinted at the intrusion of the light.
Setting aside his half empty
glass, Ezra frowned at the abrupt movement that bulged the white canvas
covering the small dinghy, lifting it a fraction then quickly dropping
it back into place. He glanced at the bridge and noted the
distinctive forms of Wilmington and Larabee at the helm; neither was
paying any attention his direction. Sanchez was below the deck;
he’d watched the older man retreat after their tumultuous discussion
and Doctor Jackson was sunning himself at the opposite end of the
vessel. Mr Tanner was at the moment unaccounted for, but Standish
would pay good odds that it wasn’t him that lay hidden in the smaller
boat. Creeping over to the boat, Ezra pulled back the canvas and
exposed a dark haired youth sprawled uncomfortably. His brown eyes
widened in shock at his discovery, and the younger man shrank away from
Ezra leant over the side, resting
his elbows on the boat’s side. “And who might you be?”
Standish offered his hand,
shaking the slim hand that gripped tightly in his hold. “Ezra
Standish,” he announced, smiling despite himself. “What are
you doing here?”
“My ma died a while back and I
finished school, and now I’m gonna see the world,” he rushed out in
one long sentence. “See, I know how to fish and I can cook a bit
and I’m a fast learner, so learning how to run the boat won’t take
me long,” he boasted, confident in his abilities.
“Those are extraordinary
aspirations for one so young. How old are you?” Standish
“Old enough,” the youth
“Well I hate to be the bearer
of bad tidings, Mr. Dunne, but this vessel is on a round trip and will
be returning to port within the next few hours. You definitely
picked the wrong boat to commence your nautical career.” He
grinned as the stowaway groaned in disappointment.
“You aren’t gonna tell anyone
I’m here are you?” he whined pitifully, hugging his chequered shirt
more tightly around his slender body.
“How long have you been hiding
“Off and on for a week,” he
admitted. “Usually during the day I take off, spend the day in
the mall, you know, kinda hang out?”
“And no one has noticed your
“Ain’t no one gonna miss me.
It was just me and mum, ‘til she died,” he ended on a sob.
Ezra glanced up at the Captain
and Buck then back at the young man. “You hungry?”
JD’s mouth literally watered at the mention of food and he
automatically zeroed in on the table of savouries and sandwiches.
“You coming out?” Dunne shook his head, but still eyed the
food longingly. “Very well. I shall bring you over a
sample of the fares.”
“Thanks Ezra,” Dunne mouthed
between shoving the finger foods hungrily into his mouth.
“When was the last time you
ate?” he queried, returning with another tray to the starving youth.
“Dunno. Ain’t got any
money left…” JD tossed the tray at the Southerner and pulled the
canvas over his head. “Someone’s coming…don’t turn me in
please?” he begged.
Standish stood at the rail
looking out to sea; he didn’t turn as Tanner stepped up to join him.
He felt the brooding gaze that swept over him and wondered what the
longhaired man wanted. He glanced to his left, and by all
impressions, didn’t move a muscle. His silent companion was more
or less his age, but his face showed lines of strain, although not as
intense as the boat owner’s. By outward appearances, this man
had had a tough life. Not unusual in this day and age. He was
amused that this man didn’t feel compelled to fill the silence with
meaningless chitchat. Though he assumed that Larabee had sent the
younger man on a mission to test the waters. And if he were
correct, then he wouldn’t have long before Tanner started pumping him
for information. Time to take control. “What are you
hiding from, Mr. Tanner?”
“What?” Vin squawked,
flustered by the Southerner’s question. “Ain’t hiding,” he
“As you wish,” not believing
the security guard’s declaration. “If Mr. Larabee is after my
endorsement, then he would be wise to seek it himself.”
Vin coughed and dropped his eyes
guiltily. “Um,” he stuttered, “was just wondering if you
wanted…” what? His mind screamed urgently looking for an
acceptable escape. He grinned at the empty tray.
“…Wanted anything else to eat?”
“You don’t lie very well, Mr.
Tanner,” Standish countered good-humouredly.
Vin shrugged. He’d always
been taught to speak the truth. Something his mother had imparted
to him before she died. He’d only been five at the time, but it
meant a lot to him and for her sake, and his own wellbeing, he’d
adhered to the unspoken policy throughout his lifetime.
Ezra turned and leant against the
rail. “Do you always do Mr. Larabee’s bidding?”
“Ain’t like that,” Vin
The Southerner arched a
speculative eyebrow that suggested he wasn’t convinced of Tanner’s
“‘S true! You criticise
me, when it’s pretty clear that you’re just a momma’s boy,” he
drawled mockingly. “Bet you probably never worked a day in your
life…must be real nice having a rich momma who’ll pay for everything
you’ve ever wanted. I don’t know why I’m bothering…”
“Oh, don’t be so modest,”
Ezra interrupted, “you’re desperate to find out whether your
friends,” he said the word derisively, “have wasted their time and
money on this little endeavour. Not to mention, your true reason
for hiding out on the yacht. You didn’t rob a bank now did
you?” He taunted, smiling cynically and deliberately turning his back.
“Only time will tell, Mr Tanner,” he muttered under his breath, not
willing to reveal anything more.
“Well, I reckon I got the right
to know,” Chris Larabee growled. He had discarded his suit coat
and tie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. His blonde hair
was wind blown and in tumbled disarray, and his face was streaked with a
smear of grease.
Standish drew in a deep breath
and swung back around. Ignoring the blond-headed captain’s
comment, he consciously changed the subject. “Are we heading
back soon? I have several tasks that require my attention before
Chris stood with his balled
knuckled on his hips, his stance wide on the rocking ship. “I
want to know what yer gonna tell Mrs. Devereux?”
“Well, that is between her and
I,” he stated boldly, not flinching as Larabee stepped closer.
“Chris,” Buck’s stern voice
overshadowed the looming fight.
“What is it, Buck?” He
scowled as he followed the outstretched finger pointing to the ominous
clouds that gathered on the horizon. The wind had picked up
suddenly too and the waves grew higher, rocking the launch with more
gusto. He spun on his heels and followed his partner to the helm.
“How did we miss that?” he asked bewilderedly.
“There’s something else…”
“What?” Chris just knew he
didn’t want to hear the answer.
“Radio’s out…and the new
GPS doesn’t seem to work.”
“Damn! How the hell did
that happen?” He had checked both pieces of equipment himself just
before they set sail. The boat’s captain swore, and turned
accusing eyes on the Southerner. He in return, refused to meet his
gaze. Was that because he was guilty? Had Standish sabotaged
them? Had be been paid to deliberately damage the instruments?
Was that why Maude Devereux backed out of their deal? If that was
the case, then why did she send her son in her place? The son of a
bitch knows more than he’s saying! He’d deal with Standish
later. He had to get them back to safety - that was his first
priority. “Vin,” he called over the increasing winds, “get
everybody into a lifejacket. And downstairs.”
Tanner glared at the southern
gentleman and was tempted to leave him on deck and fend for himself, but
the ingrained gentle nature of the Texan pre-empted this idea.
“Come on,” he growled, leading the way down below.
The weather started getting
rough, Larabee’s yacht was tossed.
Standish was thrown against the
wall, losing his footing as he navigated the narrow passageway. A
hand snaked out and twisted around his arm, bringing him face to face
with the doctor.
“Where do you think yer
“I left something up on deck
and must retrieve it,” he explained, wrenching his arm free of the
Jackson was puzzled by the
Southerner’s determination. “Ain’t worth risking your life
for,” he counted. Nothing was that valuable.
“It is worth more than my life
could ever amount to, Mr. Jackson,” he stated, completely serious with
the claim. The yacht lurched, and the Southerner stumbled up the
stairs, leaving a confused Jackson tumbling back through to an empty
Standish stepped out on the
rain-slicked deck and shuddered at the chilling rain that sluiced
through his designer suit. He looked up into the dark sky and
blinked rapidly as the rain pelted into his eyes. The dark
rumbling clouds met the deep blue sea and it was difficult to discern
where ocean finished and the clouds began. Daylight had completely
vanished under the black menacing storm clouds. White streaks of
lightning fired threateningly from the heavens and the loud cracks of
thunder crackled simultaneously. The roaring winds took his breath
away and the waves had grown in ferocity in such a short time. The
launch rocked and dipped to the motion of the swells.
Ezra took a deep breath and
prayed that he would arrive in time. “Courage, Ezra, courage,”
he muttered as he pushed away from the safety of the lower decks.
The life jacket was more of an encumbrance, but he was not naive enough
to remove it. . “JD!” he shouted into the storm, and the
words were drowned in the howling winds. “JD!” he called more
urgently as he swayed with the cyclonic winds. He staggered to the
young stowaway’s hiding place, continually calling out the youth’s
name. God, he hoped the younger man was unharmed.
The small boat swung chaotically
on the holding chains, crashing hard against the hull of the yacht.
It wouldn’t take long for the timber to splinter under such violent
force. Ezra grabbed at the unstable dinghy, but slipped as the
seawater roared over the sides knocking him to the deck. He
coughed as the salty water was sucked up through his nose. Dark
hands lifted him up and he looked up into the concerned features of
Nathan. Unable to be heard, he pointed at the small vessel,
resolute in gaining Jackson’s assistance.
“We gotta get back inside!”
Nathan wailed, but Standish didn’t hear the plea. He continued
his attempt to catch and still the boat. The doctor grabbed Standish and
attempted to pull him to safety, but Ezra determinedly freed himself.
Damn stubborn fool!
“Noooo!” Standish screamed,
again pointing at the boat. “JD’s in there!” he persisted.
Flipping back the canvas he groped in the gloom for the young stowaway.
When his hand didn’t come into contact, Ezra climbed in the dinghy.
“Ezra, we’re gonna be
okay!” Nathan assured, assuming the Southerner was reacting on pure
panic and not thinking clearly. He swallowed his next entreaty
when a young boy was pushed out of the boat and onto the launch.
Clutched protectively to his chest was a bag of his only possessions.
He refused to leave without it. “Lord, where did you come
from?” Not waiting for a reply that wouldn’t be heard over the
roaring winds, he pushed the two guests back toward the safety of the
lower decks, praying that the others would steer them clear.
Larabee fought for control over
his life’s dream, but the ferocity of the storm and the enormous
swells swallowed the launch. His muscles tensed as the strain to
hold the wheel became an impossible task. Chris put his whole weight
behind the wheel, attempting to keep the oversized launch from
capsizing. He barely acknowledged the added presence of Tanner as
he joined him at the helm. They had to keep adjusting the
direction, and it seemed hopeless to go against the surge of the waves.
Seawater lashed angrily over the
bow, pushing and pulling at the boat. The rain and wind buffeted
the yacht spinning the tired vessel into a whirlpool. Timber’s
creaked and groaned under the maelstrom and Larabee knew the
ten-year-old launch was struggling in the unseasonable conditions.
“Try the radio again, Buck,” Chris yelled desperately. He had
no idea where they were, but he vowed he wasn’t going to let her go
down. Not without a fight. He had five lives on this yacht
that depended on him to see them to safety.
Water pounded at the window,
throwing its might against the drowning vessel. “Buck!
Anything?” he asked desperately.
“’S Not working, Chris!” he
shouted back in disgust.
“Are the others below?” he
directed the query to Tanner.
“Then I want you to go down
there with ‘em,” Chris ordered.
“They’re safe, Chris! I
can be more help up here,” he pointed out, assisting the captain to
hold the wheel steady.
“Fine,” he didn’t have time
to debate it.
The glass from the side window
broke under the surge of water and the cabin’s floor filled with
seawater. The captain, his partner and his best friend landed in a
heap, scuttled by the rush of incoming water. Chris regained his
footing first and pulled Tanner off Buck and lost his own precarious
hold again when the boat tilted dangerously to the right.
“We’re rolling!” he rasped. The reflected horror in the eyes
of both his friends matched his own turmoil. He struggled to his
knees, but the unmanned launch lurched with the will of the ocean,
tossing them about like rag dolls.
The storm raged throughout the
night. If not for the courage of the fearless crew, the ship would
have been lost. The yacht limped and struggled to shore on the
incoming tide, washed up on the sandy beach.
Standish sat up on the sandy
beach, grimly studying the wrecked yacht. The battered vessel
rested on her side; a massive hole took up residence in the forward
section. It was sheer determination that saw the seven survivors
reach the island in one piece. How Larabee pulled off the miracle,
he shuddered to contemplate. And he was convinced it was the
captain’s skill that had saved them, as he didn’t put any faith in
luck. The boat was not going to be of any use to them now, he
Sanchez stroked the fire,
watching the young Southerner with curiosity. Sitting apart from
where they’d established their temporary camp, Standish just gazed out
over the lagoon in silence. He’d been there since morning,
unmoving. JD, the young stowaway that Ezra had saved, was
energetically recounting his version of last night’s events for the
umpteenth time and Josiah grinned at the exuberance of the youth.
The others had been stunned by Dunne’s appearance, but he managed to
endear himself to them in the short time they had known him. Buck
had taken a particular interest in the youngster, treating him like a
Sanchez left the fire and sat
down beside Standish. “A penny for your thoughts.”
Ezra snorted. “And what
exactly will that buy me here, Mr. Sanchez?” he drawled thickly.
Josiah rubbed his jaw
thoughtfully and picked up a shell, turning it over in his large hands.
“To share a burden can often halve the problem.”
“And do you think, that by
divulging my inner thoughts it will return us to civilisation?” he
The chef chuckled, ignoring the
cynicism and tossing the shell into the lagoon. “Ain’t nothing
you could have done to prevent us being marooned here, Ezra.”
“Isn’t there?” he asked
sceptically, looking up for the first time. “What would you say,
Mr. Sanchez, if I informed you that I wasn’t sanctioned by Mother to
take her place on the cruise? And if it wasn’t for me, none of
you would have even been out yesterday on that ill-fated cruise.”
Josiah arched his eyebrows,
surprised at the Southerner’s revelation. “I think you better
explain that, son.”
Standish returned his attention
to drawing in the sand. “Mother had no intention of making that
trip. As for suppling capital for Mr. Larabee and Mr.
Wilmington’s venture,” he laughed out loud, “let’s just say she
was not interested.”
“So why’d you come?” Josiah
“Oh, that’s the real humorous
part,” he drawled sarcastically. “Because of Mother’s
interference, I lost my job yesterday,” he sighed deeply.
“She has a habit of usurping every job I get, trying to force me into
her world. It makes getting the next job that much harder.
Of course, that’s her intention,” he lamented.
The chef glanced behind his back
to JD, who was quietly unpacking his duffel bag and listening. The
others had come and gone over the course of the day, relaying
information about the island on which they were deserted. He was
certain that he had heard one of them return, but no one had stepped out
to show himself. Probably too interested in what the slick
Southerner had to say. “That still doesn’t explain why you
took Mrs Devereux’s position. And what about the limo you showed
“That’s easily explained.”
Ezra moaned in frustration.
Did he have to spell out everything? “I just lost my job, and
Mother was not attracted to this endeavour. It was only natural
that I should be interested, when she was not.” He saw the
confused frown on the older man’s face and swallowed his growing ire.
“She and I are always at odds. If I say black, she’ll say
blue, if I like something, then she’ll automatically dislike it,
without even seeing it. The story of my life,” he moaned.
“When I heard Mother making plans to send her driver to cancel her
appointment with Mr. Larabee, I convinced him to take me along.
When we arrived, I once more persuaded Darrel that I would inform the
captain of Mother’s non-appearance and subsequently take her place.”
“She wasn’t gonna show?”
Chris growled angrily, stepping out of the underbrush.
Standish visibly startled at the
captain’s sudden appearance. “No,” he admitted.
Larabee squatted to his haunches, reassessing the Southerner, given the new facts he’d over heard. “Why’d you mess with the GPS and radio?”
Standish bit his lip, contemplating what he’s say. He didn’t imagine that the captain would be pleased to find out he’d been responsible for the problems associated with the communicating equipment. And had he known that they were going to be stranded on an uncharted deserted island, then he’d never have contemplated such drastic measures. But none of this came to mind when he sabotaged them. All he hoped for was to get the crew a little lost, and in turn get a reaction from Maude.
Larabee watched the
play of emotions that crossed the Southerner’s face. He was guilty as hell and wouldn’t even admit
it. Chris was going to enjoy making Standish pay his dues.
"What was the job you lost?”
“I have had many varied
occupations in my lifetime. Does it really matter to you what I
Larabee smiled broadly.
“I was in public relations
associated with the marketing of automobiles.”
“You were a car salesman?”
Chris asked incredulously.
“That would be correct.”
“Ah huh,” he chuckled.
“Well hope you know how to adapt to island life, ‘cause it looks
like we’re stuck here for a while.”
“Great, just preachy.”
“And so you know,” Larabee
added, “If nobody showed yesterday, than Buck and I would have still
taken the yacht out.”
Now this is the tale of the castaways, they're here for a long, long time, they'll have to make the best of things, it's an uphill climb. The first mate and the Skipper too, will do their very best, to make the others comfortable, in the tropic island nest. No phone, no lights no motorcars, not a single luxury, like Robinson Crusoe, as primitive as can be. - LOL
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