roina_arwen

This was my entry for the NYC Midnight Flash Fiction Challenge, Round 1. Maximum length is 1000 words (not including title and brief synopsis). My assigned genre was Drama; location was An Airstrip; and object was A Fishnet. Round 2 will start on August 12th, so I expect it will be at least six weeks before we get our scores for the first round. Enjoy!

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“Travels and Travails”

Ellie hadn’t planned on ending their anniversary expedition early, but she still found herself sitting on the floor of the no-frills shelter at the Gaua Airport here in Vanuatu. It was little more than an unpaved airstrip with a small building that served as an office and possibly an emergency storage facility.

She rested her back against the wall, opposite an old metal desk - which looked like a relic from World War Two - so she could be near both the bathroom and a power outlet. Nobody else was here, and frankly she doubted anyone would arrive for quite some time. There was rarely more than one charter flight per day in or out of this remote tropical location.

Her ankle was propped up on her backpack to keep it elevated. It was still swollen and sore. Ellie was sure she had torn some ligaments. Stupidly, she hadn’t been paying close enough attention to her surroundings, and caught her foot in a tangle of woodsy vines hidden among the dense underbrush.

The pain upon landing had been immediate and intense, and even hours later she could barely put any weight on that leg.

Ellie sighed, unscrewed the lid of her canteen, and took a sip of water.

She and Jon had planned this trip months in advance. They were both huge Survivor fans, and wanted to experience a little of that reality for themselves, without the starvation and machinations that came from actually being part of the much-loved reality show. They traveled here to spend a week away from the modern conveniences they were used to.

They brought a two person tent, high quality pocket knife, small hatchet, basic campfire cooking equipment, two canteens, bag of rice, trail mix - the good kind, with M&M’s - protein bars, salt, a fishnet and nylon fishing line, changes of clothing, and not much else.

It was far more than contestants got, but much less than she was used to having. It was what Jon called a “happy compromise.”

Ellie loved him for that. His main goal in life was to ensure she was happy.

Her husband was an avid outdoorsman. He knew how to start a fire, regardless of whether he had matches or flint and steel. He could catch and clean a fish, and somehow always seemed to know which way was north. She, however, had none of those skills. Heck, Jon often joked that Ellie could get lost in her favorite department store, and he wasn’t far from wrong.

Ellie’s thoughts wandered back to this morning. They had been out hiking, trekking towards the coastline to try and catch dinner. Jon lead the way, and as always Ellie was a few steps behind. Jon paused, and turned to check on her progress just as she let out a pained scream and fell awkwardly to the ground.

“Don’t move,” he advised, dropping his backpack and kneeling next to her. “Let me take a look.”

Her ankle started to swell, and they realized there was no chance of her walking on it without potentially causing a more permanent injury.

Jon surveyed the foliage, removed the hatchet from its holder, and chopped several sturdy branches off the nearest tree. Two of the shorter branches he sliced in half lengthwise. The longer branches appeared to be for a framework of some sort.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced up, concern in his warm brown eyes. “Making a travois, of course. You can’t walk on that ankle, and if I try to carry you piggy-back, I won’t last very long.”

“Gee, thanks,” Ellie replied drily.

He smiled and winked. “Don’t mention it.”

Ellie watched her husband as he arranged the long branches in an “A” shape, overlapping them at the top. “These will be the handles,” he told her, then tied them together with a length of fishing line and sturdy knots.

When that was done, he cut one of the branches shorter, and doubled it up below the handles for her head. Each pole was attached to the frame with slip knots then cross-wrapped and tied off. He stretched the sturdy fishnet across the travois for added support and comfort, arranging it so the edges of the cross poles poked through the net, then added a few more knots for stability.

Once Jon was satisfied, he lifted Ellie gently and settled her on the travois.

“Wow. Color me impressed,” she told him, pushing his hair off his sweaty forehead and rewarding him with a long, well-earned kiss. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“YouTube, of course. It seemed prudent to research a few things beforehand, just in case.”

Jon picked up his backpack and handed it to her. “Can you hold this?”

She nodded and leaned back.

“This is going to be bumpy, but try not to shift your weight.” He picked up the handles, which raised her head, and started back towards camp. At least, that’s what she thought.

Twenty minutes later, Ellie realized they were headed in a different direction, because nothing looked familiar. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to the airport. It’ll be easier to do it now, rather than trying to take you along with the tent and other supplies too. I’ll drop you off, head back, and pack everything up. It shouldn’t take more than two or three hours.”

So here she was, sitting alone in a small building off the airstrip, waiting impatiently for her husband. She checked the clock on her phone again. He had been gone nearly four hours, and Ellie was concerned. Had he injured himself? Been attacked by a wild animal?

She had almost drifted off to sleep when she heard Jon dragging the travois up to the doorway.

He put the load down and checked her ankle carefully. “We can get on the next flight to Luganville. They have great hospitals there. You won’t be in pain much longer.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”