Chapter 8

We suffered together, Danny and

Ella and me. From camp, we brought a swath of nylon to keep off the night dew, brought our simple bedding. We sweated it out with Danny, and shook it out with him.

He was never fully awake, never completely asleep, writhing with the horrors conjured by his fevered mind. He retched and cramped, and fought against steel fingers that probed his belly.

We soothed him in the nights, cooled and bathed him, and in the few lucid intervals, fed him sugar water and a sip or two of coconut milk. Once we got half a bowl of broth down him, and watched the shudders lessen with the slower sweats. On the second night, his sleep seemed real.

Ella and I were tired, too, edgy from the strain. "Maybe that's it," she said. "I hope it is. He's been going through hell."

Wearily, I nodded. "It wasn't as bad as I expected, though. He didn't try to kill himself."

"He was too weak. But even so, he might have tried it, if we hadn't been here."

"We'll stay until he's all right," I said.

"Of course."

Danny's eyes fluttered open. "Julie."

"Yes."

"Water. Some water?"

His face was thin, colorless, but some of the fear had gone from it. "How long has it been."

"Three days," Ella answered.

"Thank you-both of you. I don't know why you bothered."

Ella and I just looked at each other.

This time, Danny didn't say "and now what?" Perhaps he realized the future was up to him, and him alone. He could get physically well, built up with food-or he could ferment coconut milk that would carry him back into the drunken haze.

I wondered how many times he'd been on the wagon before, how many times he'd fallen off. I imagined that almost anything would set him off again-irritations, resentments, peeves that stuck and festered until they grew out of all proportion. Then he would get drunk again, and again and again.

The shakes were gone now, but the psychological needs were still desperate with him, almost as painful, almost as desperate as the craving for a drink. If he didn't work on those, the rat race would begin once more.

Danny slipped back into sleep, and this time we joined him, warming him with our bodies, pressing to him from each side, holding his thin flesh tightly to us, comforting him with our breasts and thighs.

We awoke with a jolt, with the harsh, jeering tones of Zell's voice ringing in our ears.

He stood over us, blood caked halfway up his forearms, the carcass of a pig slung carelessly over his shoulder, reddened spear in one hairy fist. "Real pretty," he grunted. "Real pretty."

Uncoiling swiftly, Ella came to her feet. I sat up, staring at him. Danny opened his eyes.

"Yeah," Zell said, "shrugging to drop the pig onto the sand with a sodden thump. "A pretty picture almost like GI nurses on a psycho ward."

Ella moved back a step, and the big man grinned at her. "How's the drunk?"

"Sober," I said. "He's still sick, but he's sober."

Zell laughed. "Yeah-until he can get up and brew him some rotgut to drink. Then he'll get drunk again. Ain't that so, Mixon?"

"I don't know," Danny said.

"You know, all right. You ain't no different than the rest of the winos."

"I guess not," Danny said.

Zell glanced at Ella, then back at me. Without warning, his hand snaked out and dragged me up beside him. He did it so damned easily. Fingers cruel in my flesh, he held me at arm's length, looking me over. His other hand cupped around my left breast and squeezed.

I didn't try to pull away, and I held my face still. Chin up, I kept my eyes level and carefully blank. Zell's mouth twisted. He released my breast, ran the hand slowly down my stomach, across one hip, then pulled me closer and tightened his fingers on one haunch, kneading the flesh.

"You're a hell of a woman," he said softly. "Too much woman for a lousy drunk."

I didn't move. I heard Ella's breath hissing. The hand clamped around by buttock moved from side to side, shaking my body, forcing me to sway with it.

"Yeah," Zell said, glancing at Ella moving back from us, glancing down with contemptuous, hard eyes at Danny's strained face, "a lot of woman."

Suddenly I was against his massive chest. His mouth thrust grinding into mine. He tasted of wood smoke and wildness, of savage passions. A hand forced between my thighs, rough, prodding, hurting my mound.

Zell's teeth clashed against mine, forcing my mouth wide. I fought to keep my balance, to keep myself from folding weakly to the sand.

Then, surprisingly, I was free, stumbling back as Zell crouched away from something.

I saw Ella, her arm drawn back, a jagged chunk of coral held high. "You son of a bitch," she spat.

With one blurred motion, she flung it at his head with all her strength.

Zell moved his head a casual inch, and the rock whipped past. "Don't pick up another one," he said, "or I'll have to run you down and rip out your guts. I don't want to do that right now, because I'm savin' you. But your turn's coming'-nigger."

Stark and ugly, the word hung in the silence that followed it, slashed into the air with razor strokes.

"I was wrong," Ella said. "You're not a son of a bitch, after all. You're a miscarriage that lived and crawled up from the pigpen where your sharecropping mother dropped you."

She whirled and ran up the beach, hair flying behind her. Zell's toes dug into the sand as his legs tensed to hurl him after the girl.

"Zell!"

The big man's eyes followed Ella's racing figure. "Run! Run, yella' girl-you can't hide. I'll come get you."

Danny had propped himself on shaky elbows. "Zell!"

With an effort, Zell looked away from Ella. The hard, tight muscles across his belly relaxed. When he turned to stare down at Danny, his eyes had a feral glow in them. "Yeah, drunk?"

Danny wet his lip. "I can answer your question, now."

"Question? What question?"

"You asked me if I'd brew up something and get drunk."

Zell grunted. "So?"

Danny said it slowly, deliberately. "I'm going to shape up. In order to beat you to death, you bastard."

Zell's eyes widened. Frowning at the wasted man at his feet, a faint flicker of interest played across his broad face. "Well, now. Listen to the drunk talk big. Can't lift himself off his scrawny butt, and talkin' like a man."

Zell dropped to his heels, rocked forward with his hands on his knees, his face close above Danny's. "You know somethin'? " Zell said, "I hope you don't get drunk. I hope you eat 'til your belly stretches and you get some solid meat on your bones. I hope you bust a gut tryin' to get into shape, until you're close to bein' a man as you can get. You know why I hope all that, Mixon?"

"I have an idea," Danny said.

"No," Zell said, "you don't have any idea. I hope you get strong enough to stay on your feet a long time, a good, long time-when you get guts enough to jump me. 'Cause I'm gonna' kill you, Mixon, and I want to kill you slow. That's why I hope you get into some kinda' shape-so you won't die too quick."

"All right," Danny said. "That's fine. I'll give you the chance."

Zell looked at him scornfully. "You'll let me know when you think you're ready."

"I'll let you know."

"Be sure now," Zell said. "Don't forget. Don't let me have to remind you."

"You won't have to remind me," Danny said. Zell stood up and flipped the pig's carcass over his shoulder. He didn't look back at Danny or me, but we heard him laugh.

I came to brace Danny's head on my thighs, to look down at his closed eyes, at the thinness of the lids with the blue veins in them, and the puffy dark circles. "You shouldn't have," I said. "It didn't make any difference to me-not any real difference."

"I've always heard," he said, "that sometime in each man's life, he must draw a line and say to the world: I won't be pushed from here. I guess I just drew my line."

Angrily, I said, "He wasn't pushing you. He was pushing me."

"I was part of it. He wanted to see what it took-for me to act like a man. If it wasn't you, he'd have found some other way."

"You didn't say anything-until he started after Ella."

Danny nodded. "He was finished with you, for the moment, anyway. You didn't fight, run, nor respond to him. Ella made him angry; he might have chased her down and killed her."

"Was that the real reason you waited?"

Danny's eyes popped open. "What other reason?"

"I don't know; I really don't know. I'm sorry I asked."

He puzzled over this, then shrugged. "May I have some more of that sticky water?"

"Yes, of course. Do you think you can hold it down?"

"Have to start trying," he said. "I don't know how much time Zell will give me."

I held the cup of water to his lips. "You don't have to meet him as you said. You don't have to face him in a fight. When you're stronger, wait until he's asleep and hit him with something."

Weakly, Danny grinned at me. "That's quite a suggestion, from a civilized woman."

"Don't be a damned fool. In civilization one has the right to protect his life. If you don't kill Zell, he'll kill you. We can make a plan to kill him."

"We?"

"Yes." My eyes were level now, unashamedly direct. "We-you and I and Ella."

His thin hand was soft against my cheek. "Julie-why are you doing all this for me? Why are you standing beside me, against Zell?"

I whispered, "There's no use denying it. I'm in love with you, Danny Mixon."

"No," he said. "You don't know what you're saying. There's nothing to love; nothing left. You're mixed up because I'm better in your sight than Zell. It's just because there are no other men to choose from."

"I've been over all that," I said. "Why or how doesn't matter. I love you, and that's that."

Danny tried to say something else, but I bent my head and kissed him, feather-soft, light, caressing. I tried to make my lips say all the things in my heart. I kept them upon his for a long time.

When I finally moved back, he said, "Julie, Julie-I don't know what to do, what to-"

"Don't say anything. Don't even tell me that you love me-until you're sure; if you're sure, ever. Because there's something else you might as well know, too--as long as this is my day for being frank."

"What else?" he asked.

"Ella," I said. "There's not only me, but there's Ella. She's in love with you, also."

Ella stayed out on the fringes of camp that evening, but I moved boldly to the fire as if nothing had happened, as if the battle line had never been drawn.

His plate empty, Zell toyed with a spear, honing the bayonet blade against a rock. Eve short sat beside him, looking good in the shorts and halter she now wore. Her body, no longer fettered and bound, bloomed in its full glory, but Zell didn't seem to notice.

"Darling," Eve pouted, "there's plenty of fish stored in the cave, and lots of smoked, salted meat. You don't have to go out to hunt at night."

She didn't see Zell as I saw him, didn't realize that he had to keep busy, keep killing.

Without preamble, he said: "Move your stuff out of the shack this evenin'. "

Eve whitened. "Move? But-but why, Kane? What have I done?"

"Nothin'. It's time for a change, that's all."

"I-I must have done something to make you angry with me. What was it, Kane? Tell me-please tell me."

"I already told you. Nothin'. "

"You're joking, then. You must be joking."

Zell stared at her, heavy lids half-concealing his eyes.

Eve's hand went to her throat. Her voice was mechanical, scratchy. "But I love you, Kane. Haven't I proved that, in every way? I did all the things you wanted, even-even when they hurt. Didn't I do everything you said? Didn't I?"

Zell stretched and scratched his chest. "Yeah. You're good in the sack, baby. I'll get around to you again."

Eve swayed. "Just like that?"

"Just like that. You got it straight."

"Who is it? Who do you want more than you want me?"

"I ain't decided. One of the young ones, I guess."

"But why?-why?"

Zell snarled at her. "Look-I like pork roast, huh? It's good. But I don't want it three times a day. I want somethin' else once in awhile, somethin' different."

"You're an animal!"

Zell grinned at her. "And a strong one, huh?" Eve leaped up, fists clenched, eyes glittering. "I hate you-I hate you!"

Eve had forgotten the rest of us were listening. Kane hadn't forgotten; he just didn't give a damn.

"Sure," he said. "You hate me-until your turn comes up again. Then you'll have hot pants. If you can't wait around, why don't you try to sneak in a lay with Mixon-if them other women will let you?"

Eve sucked in her breath and stood trembling while Zell got up and shambled away. Seeing him go like that, she tried once again: "Kane, I love you."

He answered over his shoulder: "Crap."

Joy Santee stepped out into his path, placed herself before him. Zell stopped. "Well?"

"You told Eve to get out," she said.

"Yeah."

Joy's mouth was a thin line. "Kane-"

"I know what you're gonna' say. No; no dice. I got somebody else in mind."

"Kane-I'll be good to you, Kane. Don't-don't make me beg like this."

He grunted. "Do you good. You made a lotta' guys sweat it out, in your time; you made 'em beg pretty please. You acted like your snatch was gold-plated. How's it feel to know you only got a paper ass, baby?"

"Oh, you bastard; you rotten bastard."

Zell laughed. "Go see Mixon-or Jessie, if you can't wait."

Joy turned from him. Her lips quivered, but she wouldn't let them soften, would not allow the held-back tears of anger and hurt to break from behind her lashes.

The rest of us were quiet, waiting. Ella and I drew closer together as Zell stood over us.

"Relax," he said, "it ain't your time-yet."

Easily, in that casual, deceptive walk of his, Zell moved past the waiting women until he stood before Elena Marquez. Her eyes were wide and very black.

"You," Zell said.

Elena swallowed. "N-now?"

"Why not?"

"B-but, I mean-I'm not fixed up right. I'd like to take a bath and-"

"Quit stallin'. You been askin' for this every time you wiggled by me. You ain't scared now, are you?"

"N-no," Elena said. "No, I'm not scared."

Elena put aside her plate and stood up. She swallowed again and put her hand into his.

They passed Jessie and Helen, and when Elena's eyes met the other girl's, Elena lifted her chin, and with her free hand made an utterly feminine smoothing motion across her hip.

When she stooped to go into the shack ahead of Zell, the talk sprang up around the fire again. Talk covered the sounds that would soon filter out of the hut, sounds we didn't want to hear. But one woman stood stiffly, hating. Eve Short wasn't saying anything.

Danny Mixon had been sober for two weeks now. The tremors were gone, although he mentioned internal shakes-in reality a weakness crying out for support no longer there, for an opiate no longer available. In time, that weakness would be gone too.

For days, he had simply eaten and rested, then he began the long walks that had a dual purpose-to tire him for sleep, and to loosen and strengthen his leg muscles for the more rugged exercise to come.

In the evenings, with only Ella and I watching, he began the gut-wrenching sit-ups-only a few at first, but slow and straining. At the end of a week, he started roadwork. trotting doggedly along the sands. He hadn't talked about me, nor about Ella. He'd put us resolutely out of mind, with time for nothing but training.

It was slow going. His body wouldn't stand up under the exertion. It had been mistreated for too many years. But Danny stayed with it, forcing himself, struggling to recapture muscle and vigor. But he sweated-not the cold sick sweat of alcohol, but a good, warming, loosening lubrication.

Ella began to stay away from us, vanishing in the mornings, returning late. Danny asked about her.

"She's giving me a chance," I said. "She's waiting for you to make a choice."

He frowned, sweat oiling his tanned face. "Choose between two women who think they love me? Only because I'm handy, because I'm less repulsive than Zell, maybe. What the hell, Julie."

"Look at it like this," I said. "Suppose this island held only two women, and a bunch of men? Wouldn't the women seek out the men they valued most?"

Danny shook his head. "You'll have to ask a wiser man than me. Zell and I might be the only ones not burned to a crisp. We might be the last men in the world. We are-in this corner of the universe, anyway."

"And before long," I said, "there may very well be only one. Danny, why do you insist on meeting Zell man-to-man? It's silly; it's stupid."

"It's something I have to do," he said, and jogged off down the beach again, arms pumping, rolling his body.

I found Ella stitching shorts in our hut. "You might as well give up the disappearing act. Danny's not paying any attention to me."

"I saw him," she said. "He's working hard, shadow-boxing. He's fixing up a long bag at the end of the beach, too."

"You're a little angry because I told him about you," I said.

"Not really. I feel like running whenever I see him, but that's all. But it's just as well, out in the open this way."

"I think so, too," I said. "And whatever he decides about us, whoever his choice, that will be all right, too. We won't allow that to make any difference between us."

Ella pursed her lips. "If he makes a choice. If he's around to make one. I'm afraid for him, Julie-afraid of this crazy thing with Zell."

"But he does look a lot better, these days."

"I'm proud of him," Ella said. "He has something to work for-his self-respect. He's doing things for us, too. Zell hasn't tried to paw either one of us since that day."

I shrugged. "Some twisted idea of conquest, I suppose. To the victor, the spoils. Zell would think like that."

She said, "I'm still afraid for Danny."

"I am, too. But I won't let Zell destroy him, if I can help it."

"If we can help it," Ella corrected. "It won't be easy. Zell is bad-really bad."

"He's not immortal. It's strange, isn't it-sitting here and calmly talking about murdering a man?"

Ella shook her dark curls. "Not murder, and not a man."

"Actually it's self-defense, but the false yardsticks of civilization don't fit here."

Ella's gaze was penetrating, direct. "Right. But you and I haven't realized that, have we?"

I blinked at her, "What do you mean?"

"Well, here we've been stewing about both of us wanting the same man. We've been worried sick that he might choose the other, and about how we'll act when that time comes. We've been readying ourselves to play the martyr, chin up, better to give than to get-and it's all so foolish."

"I still don't see-"

"You said yourself the old yardsticks don't fit. Think about that. All right, with that for a base, what's our problem? One-you and I love each other; two--you and I love Danny Mixon; three-we don't want to hurt each other. So what's the solution? It's simple, Julie, so simple. But we've been measuring by the old yardstick so long we couldn't see it."

My mouth hung open. "Do you mean-"

"Sure, why not? Why can't we both have Danny Mixon? Why can't we both be wives to him without being insanely jealous of each other? The Mormons did it for many years; tribes all over the world do it; why can't we?"

I was silent, thinking; then I said: "You're right. The solution is simple, after all. I had to complicate it with social mores, with greediness, really. Why couldn't I share Danny with you, or you share him with me? I can be content knowing he's happy, and that you're happy, too."

"Me, too," Ella said breathlessly, excitedly. "Maybe even happier, because we're sharing. I want so much for you to be happy, Julie."

"You're a wise woman, Ella." Although somewhere very deep within me a note of discord had been struck. I barely noticed it at the time.

"You taught me to think clearly. You taught me the world isn't peopled with stupid savages. No matter what happens here, Julie-I'll always be glad you were here with me."

"And I," I said, hugging her tight. "I'm glad, too. There was nothing left for me out there. I felt everything was gone, that I was a shell. But you and Danny have made me live again-and it's good-good."

We melted with each other, a partly physical, partly mental blending that brought me closer to another human being than I had ever been before.

Surely, Danny Mixon wouldn't find a flaw in our reasoning. Surely, he'd see things the way Ella and I did and be happy with us and for us.

There was only one point that both Ella and I were overlooking.

Kane Zell was going to kill Danny Mixon.