“How did you do this? Surfing?”
“Hmm.” I grit my teeth as she carefully touches the wound. Anger spikes through me at the memory of the bitch that knocked me off my board. What the hell was her problem?
“I think you might need a couple of stitches on this one,” Dr Lestari says. “And I’ll need to clean all the wounds.”
“Stitches?”
“I’m afraid so. No surfing for you for the next week or so.” Her dark eyes are sympathetic.
I shrug. “My board is damaged anyway.” Despite the flippant words, I’m devastated. I came here to sort myself out, and surfing is where that happens. Sitting on a beach and staring at waves I can’t surf isn’t how I imagined this going, nor is it going to help my mindset.
“You should take it to Axel’s surf repair shop. He’ll fix it.”
“Axel? The same Axel who has the cabins?”
Dr Lestari pauses in what she’s doing, her gaze flicking to me. “That’s right. Are you staying there?”
“For a few weeks. I only arrived yesterday.”
“Ah, I’m sorry.” She straightens up, going to a tall cupboard and pulling out what I guess must be the stuff to stitch up my leg. It hurts like hell. But not as much as my heart. First Zach, now this. I don’t know if this place is magical so much as it’s cursed. Bad luck comes in threes, they say. I wonder what will happen to me next.
“Jesus.” I hiss as the doctor starts working on my leg. She’s put on some numbing cream, but it still stings like fire as she cleans the wounds.
“Stay as still as you can, please.”
I keep talking, only because I need the distraction. “So, this is a pretty nice medical centre, for a… uh…”
“For a small place like this?” Dr Lestari smiles. “I suppose so. But we have a special community here. Everyone invests in making it the best it can be. We’re lucky to be able to live as we do.”
“It’s a beautiful place.” I wince as the needle pokes into me.
“Just another moment more.” There’s a tugging sensation in my leg, and then Dr Lestari clips the thread. “All finished.”
A few minutes later I’m outside, instructions for how to care for my stitches clutched in my hand. All I know is that I’m stuck on a tropical island and can’t swim. The bar across the street still isn’t open. Maybe that’s a good thing.
I decide to look around, wandering along the street past a small clothing store in which I spot a dress I know I’ve seen in one of Anna’s boutiques. There’s also a restaurant which smells delicious, and a grocery store.
I head inside. I may as well stock up on supplies. The cabin has plenty of fruit but the way I’m feeling, I need to put my head into a bucket of ice cream. Cookie dough, if they have it.
They do, along with a few other things. In fact, the grocery store is surprisingly well-stocked, with a shiny modern interior. The strangeness of it all hits me again, that somewhere so remote could be so well-equipped. But there are people living here, I remind myself. What did the doctor say? That they all invest in the community? Why wouldn’t they want things to be as nice as possible.
This place really is a hidden gem. I’m surprised it’s not overrun by influencers and tourists. I’m incredibly glad that it isn’t, not just for the sake of my own privacy. Besides, it’s not like there are lots of places to stay; I haven’t spotted any hotels, though a small sign down an alleyway points to a guesthouse.
There’s a selection of alcohol displayed behind the till. I pause as I’m paying, eyeing the gleaming bottles. Then I grab the bag and keep going. Eating ice cream is one thing, but drinking alone is not something I want to start doing.
I head back to the cabin.
My leg aches, and the stitches are starting to sting. I had wanted to walk, to explore the island, to swim in the blue water. But I can’t. It looks as though my options, for the next few days at least, are lying in the sun while trying not to scream with frustration, or ignoring Zach’s messages while face down in a tub of ice cream.
I decide to do the latter.
Axel
I mean to check in on my guest but by the time I finish work it’s getting dark, long purple clouds streaked with gold stretching like streamers above the ocean. Shit. I didn’t mean to work so late, but I had to pack up a board and send it out, then finish a commission for someone on the island. I stretch, my hands at the small of my back, then start walking home, conscious of needing to hurry. There’s a council meeting tonight, and I can’t miss it. I’ll check in on Jade tomorrow.
I get home, shower and change, then hop on my scooter and head up into the hills as the last flickers of day wink out. The air is still warm, though, faint golden lights visible every so often through the heavy vegetation lining the curving road. I smell flowers and the sea, can almost sense the presence of this place, the deep peace of the island. The feeling dissipates as I pull up at the council building, a large pavilion set high on the hillside. The shuttered sides are closed tonight, light visible between the slats, but I can hear the murmur of voices drifting out.
I take a moment to compose myself, smoothing my hair, rolling the sleeves of my shirt over my forearms, wiping my feet on the mats before stepping inside, all the while going over what I want to say tonight. What I need to say. I’m already compromised, simply because of who I am, or at least that’s what some on the council think. I have to make sure I get my point across in a way that makes it clear I want what’s best for the island.