Part 126: The Ties That Bind
Near their camp site, Tony, John and McKay all sat around the fire, drinking coffee. Tony sipped on his coffee, while John blew on his to cool it down. The archer then looked to his Australian friend who was pouring sugar packet after sugar packet into his coffee. “Jeez, McKay,” John chuckled, “Do you want some coffee with your sugar?”
“Is that what he is doing?” Tony laughed.
“Where I am from, mates,” he said, finally stopping, “We don’t stop putting sugar into the coffee until the spoon stands straight up.”
The three friends laughed at his joke. Tony smiled at their comraderee. It felt good to be surrounded by men he knew would be friends for life. It would make their stay on the island less depressing. Tony was the only one who knew the rescue party wasn’t coming. He felt bad about giving up their hopes but at least, thanks to the man named Michael, they were going to a small bit of hope. Once the raft was launched, he’d have to make it out to the shipping lanes, and flag a boat. Then they would all be rescued. Tony sipped on his coffee one more time and then asked, “Hey, guys. What is the first thing you are going to do when we get back to the real world?”
“Probably call my mom,” John chuckled, “Let her know I am still alive.”
“Amen to that, mate,” McKay toasted him, “I’ll be calling my brother in Montana, make sure he hasn’t spent all the money I left him upon my death.”
“What about you, Tony?” the archer asked his friend.
“Oh, sure, I’ll call my sister to let her know I am alive,” he sipped his coffee, “Then I’ll probably get my eye fixed, tour the talk shows, wonder if I can renew my doctor’s license, buy a loft in downtown LA, marry Marita, adopt Eddie if I have too, buy a cat, and then go to Las Vegas for a long extended vacation.”
Tony sipped on his coffee again. He smirked at the silence presented before him by his two friends. He then took a gulp from his coffee and swallowed it hard. “Well,” he smiled, “Maybe not . . .in THAT particular order.”
“Marry Marita?” John blinked, “Tony . . .are you sure?”
“What else is there left to be sure about?” he shrugged his shoulders, “She’s the perfect girl for me.”
“You do have a point.” McKay chuckled.
“And since I could never say which one of you is the better friend, “Tony pointed in there general area, “You BOTH get to be my best men. Any problems with that?”
“Hey, man, I was your friend first.” John laughed.
“Oh, shut up!” McKay scoffed, pretending like he was going his coffee at him.
The archer and the outback guide laughed for a few seconds, as they clanked their coffee cups together. Tony smiled, realizing they truly did not have a problem with being his best men. He really couldn’t have asked for better friends.
Then, if on cue, Sayid came over to their little camp. He smiled at their laughter. “Good afternoon to you, gentlemen.” He bowed his head.
“Ah, Sayid,” Tony smiled, “Have some coffee with us?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I prefer tea to coffee.”
“What kinda tea you drink?” John said, a little curious.
“Charka Gold, from South India.” The Iraqi said with a smile.
“India?” McKay blinked, “Wait a second . . .I thought Iraqi’s didn’t like Indians?”
“Oh, we don’t. But there is no sense in overreacting.”
The group then laughed at Sayid’s joke. The former soldier let off a small chuckle, glad he was able to make the men laugh. McKay laughed so hard, he almost spilled his coffee. He wiped the laughter tears from his face, giggling. “You’re all right, Sayid.” He mused.
“You are all right too, my friend,” Sayid said, patting him on the shoulder, “The reason for my visit is I have a gift for Tony.”
“Oh?” the blind man inquired.
Sayid kneeled down and placed a piece of cloth into Tony’s hand. The blind doctor put down his coffee into the sand, then felt of the cloth. When he unfolded it, he realized it was the perfect shape for a blindfold. “Hey, all right!” John smiled, “It’s burgundy, Tony.”
“I suppose this one is looking rotten,” The doctor said, removing the blindfold he’s had since day one.
He gently tossed it into the fire, then placed the new blindfold around his eyes. Sayid reached over and helped him get it straight. After he tied it, Tony smiled, holding out his hands in an almost profile manner. McKay and John clapped at the new look for him. The blind man then held out his hand in Sayid’s direction. “Thank you, Sayid,” he whispered.
Sayid shook his hand, “You are most welcome, Tony. I look forward to the day when you won’t need it.”
“Likewise.” He replied.
Then a familiar shuffle of feet near him and a certain smell, made him realize that Marita had arrived. She kneeled down and gently touched his chin, bringing his head toward her. “Oh, Burgundy, “she smiled, “Very sexy for a blind man.”
“Why, thank you, sweetie.” He chuckled.
“Thank you, Sayid. That was really thoughtful.” She said, shaking his hand.
“It was the least I could do.” He said, smiling, “Perhaps Tony will share a tale with you. I think you might find it interesting.”
“What sort of a tale?” John smirked.
“Hold it, guys,” Tony paused in all seriousness, “Is someone crying?”
Marita remembered how sharp Tony’s ears had become. She then looked around for anybody who might be crying, as did Sayid. The stewardess then spotting the weeping victim. It was her own friend Yolanda. The black woman was sitting down the beach alone and crying. “It’s Yolanda.” Marita mentioned.
“Why would she be crying?” John asked.
“You better go check on her, sweetie,” Tony said, patting her on the arm.
Marita kissed him on the head, then walked down the beach toward her friend. Yolanda was holding onto her knees, rocking back and forth. She was crying but doing her best to stop; and not succeeding. The Latina stopped near her, then kneeled down, hugging her from behind. “Hey, Rita,” she said, sniffing, “Thank you. I needed that.”
“You okay, Landa?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine.” She said, wiping her tears, “I just need a few moments.”
“What got you so upset?” Marita ask, sitting beside her.
“I was walking through the beach. . . looking at all the camps and . . and . . .”
“And what?”
“Marita,” she whispered, “We were the only workers from Flight 815 to survive.”
“Oh, Yolanda,” she said, putting her arm around her friend.
“Dix, Michelle, Kathy . . .not even Greg survived. Why . . why just us?”
“I don’t know, Yolanda. We just . . .happened to be in the right place at the right moment when the plane sheered off.”
Yolanda leaned in her friend, resting her head on her shoulder. Marita held her hand, as her tears slowly dripped away. “I wish I had your strength, Rita.” She whispered.
“You are strong, Yolanda,” she replied, “You just have to find the right people to be with. That strength will come forward, I promise.”
“I guess . . .I haven’t been hanging around too many people, have I?” she smiled.
“We won’t make it if we are alone. You got plenty of people to make friends with now. I know you are a people person. Why not meet some new people?”
“Thanks, Marita,” she smiled.
“You know I am always here for you.”
The two friends shared their warmth for a the moment, making Yolanda feel better. The black woman did feel alone but she never really bonded with anybody besides Eddie. Then she heard a familiar banging sound. She looked to her right to see Michael hard at work on his boat.
“Is that what he is doing?” Tony laughed.
“Where I am from, mates,” he said, finally stopping, “We don’t stop putting sugar into the coffee until the spoon stands straight up.”
The three friends laughed at his joke. Tony smiled at their comraderee. It felt good to be surrounded by men he knew would be friends for life. It would make their stay on the island less depressing. Tony was the only one who knew the rescue party wasn’t coming. He felt bad about giving up their hopes but at least, thanks to the man named Michael, they were going to a small bit of hope. Once the raft was launched, he’d have to make it out to the shipping lanes, and flag a boat. Then they would all be rescued. Tony sipped on his coffee one more time and then asked, “Hey, guys. What is the first thing you are going to do when we get back to the real world?”
“Probably call my mom,” John chuckled, “Let her know I am still alive.”
“Amen to that, mate,” McKay toasted him, “I’ll be calling my brother in Montana, make sure he hasn’t spent all the money I left him upon my death.”
“What about you, Tony?” the archer asked his friend.
“Oh, sure, I’ll call my sister to let her know I am alive,” he sipped his coffee, “Then I’ll probably get my eye fixed, tour the talk shows, wonder if I can renew my doctor’s license, buy a loft in downtown LA, marry Marita, adopt Eddie if I have too, buy a cat, and then go to Las Vegas for a long extended vacation.”
Tony sipped on his coffee again. He smirked at the silence presented before him by his two friends. He then took a gulp from his coffee and swallowed it hard. “Well,” he smiled, “Maybe not . . .in THAT particular order.”
“Marry Marita?” John blinked, “Tony . . .are you sure?”
“What else is there left to be sure about?” he shrugged his shoulders, “She’s the perfect girl for me.”
“You do have a point.” McKay chuckled.
“And since I could never say which one of you is the better friend, “Tony pointed in there general area, “You BOTH get to be my best men. Any problems with that?”
“Hey, man, I was your friend first.” John laughed.
“Oh, shut up!” McKay scoffed, pretending like he was going his coffee at him.
The archer and the outback guide laughed for a few seconds, as they clanked their coffee cups together. Tony smiled, realizing they truly did not have a problem with being his best men. He really couldn’t have asked for better friends.
Then, if on cue, Sayid came over to their little camp. He smiled at their laughter. “Good afternoon to you, gentlemen.” He bowed his head.
“Ah, Sayid,” Tony smiled, “Have some coffee with us?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I prefer tea to coffee.”
“What kinda tea you drink?” John said, a little curious.
“Charka Gold, from South India.” The Iraqi said with a smile.
“India?” McKay blinked, “Wait a second . . .I thought Iraqi’s didn’t like Indians?”
“Oh, we don’t. But there is no sense in overreacting.”
The group then laughed at Sayid’s joke. The former soldier let off a small chuckle, glad he was able to make the men laugh. McKay laughed so hard, he almost spilled his coffee. He wiped the laughter tears from his face, giggling. “You’re all right, Sayid.” He mused.
“You are all right too, my friend,” Sayid said, patting him on the shoulder, “The reason for my visit is I have a gift for Tony.”
“Oh?” the blind man inquired.
Sayid kneeled down and placed a piece of cloth into Tony’s hand. The blind doctor put down his coffee into the sand, then felt of the cloth. When he unfolded it, he realized it was the perfect shape for a blindfold. “Hey, all right!” John smiled, “It’s burgundy, Tony.”
“I suppose this one is looking rotten,” The doctor said, removing the blindfold he’s had since day one.
He gently tossed it into the fire, then placed the new blindfold around his eyes. Sayid reached over and helped him get it straight. After he tied it, Tony smiled, holding out his hands in an almost profile manner. McKay and John clapped at the new look for him. The blind man then held out his hand in Sayid’s direction. “Thank you, Sayid,” he whispered.
Sayid shook his hand, “You are most welcome, Tony. I look forward to the day when you won’t need it.”
“Likewise.” He replied.
Then a familiar shuffle of feet near him and a certain smell, made him realize that Marita had arrived. She kneeled down and gently touched his chin, bringing his head toward her. “Oh, Burgundy, “she smiled, “Very sexy for a blind man.”
“Why, thank you, sweetie.” He chuckled.
“Thank you, Sayid. That was really thoughtful.” She said, shaking his hand.
“It was the least I could do.” He said, smiling, “Perhaps Tony will share a tale with you. I think you might find it interesting.”
“What sort of a tale?” John smirked.
“Hold it, guys,” Tony paused in all seriousness, “Is someone crying?”
Marita remembered how sharp Tony’s ears had become. She then looked around for anybody who might be crying, as did Sayid. The stewardess then spotting the weeping victim. It was her own friend Yolanda. The black woman was sitting down the beach alone and crying. “It’s Yolanda.” Marita mentioned.
“Why would she be crying?” John asked.
“You better go check on her, sweetie,” Tony said, patting her on the arm.
Marita kissed him on the head, then walked down the beach toward her friend. Yolanda was holding onto her knees, rocking back and forth. She was crying but doing her best to stop; and not succeeding. The Latina stopped near her, then kneeled down, hugging her from behind. “Hey, Rita,” she said, sniffing, “Thank you. I needed that.”
“You okay, Landa?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine.” She said, wiping her tears, “I just need a few moments.”
“What got you so upset?” Marita ask, sitting beside her.
“I was walking through the beach. . . looking at all the camps and . . and . . .”
“And what?”
“Marita,” she whispered, “We were the only workers from Flight 815 to survive.”
“Oh, Yolanda,” she said, putting her arm around her friend.
“Dix, Michelle, Kathy . . .not even Greg survived. Why . . why just us?”
“I don’t know, Yolanda. We just . . .happened to be in the right place at the right moment when the plane sheered off.”
Yolanda leaned in her friend, resting her head on her shoulder. Marita held her hand, as her tears slowly dripped away. “I wish I had your strength, Rita.” She whispered.
“You are strong, Yolanda,” she replied, “You just have to find the right people to be with. That strength will come forward, I promise.”
“I guess . . .I haven’t been hanging around too many people, have I?” she smiled.
“We won’t make it if we are alone. You got plenty of people to make friends with now. I know you are a people person. Why not meet some new people?”
“Thanks, Marita,” she smiled.
“You know I am always here for you.”
The two friends shared their warmth for a the moment, making Yolanda feel better. The black woman did feel alone but she never really bonded with anybody besides Eddie. Then she heard a familiar banging sound. She looked to her right to see Michael hard at work on his boat.
posted by Jason | 6:05 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home