Vows Box Set

Chapter 8: Personal Issues-2

“Bleh,” said Devon.

I quirked an eyebrow. “You asked for it.”

He looked at the coconut shell full of acanthorphora, commonly known as spiny sea plant, and shrugged.

“So this should work?” asked Garrett, poking suspiciously at the seaweed.

“Come on,” I said. “We’ve had this in our salads before.”

“Not a whole bowl of it,” protested Devon. “Just a little bit mixed in.”

“You’re exaggerating. There’s papaya mixed in with it. It’s not that bad,” I replied. I took a mouthful of the stuff and grimaced. Damn. Maybe it was that bad.

“Yucky,” announced Buddy.

“Look on the bright side,” said Garrett. “At least we’re all in agreement on something.”

“Eat it,” I told Buddy. “It’ll help you poop.”

Buddy scowled and stared doubtfully at the bowl of spiny greens. Then he rubbed his tummy and sighed. He was hungry, and he was feeling the effects of the constipation from which we were all suffering, so he didn’t put up any more fuss on the subject and just ate it. The silver lining to the problem of not having a pantry full of snack options was that Buddy tended to eat what he was given. It was that or go hungry.

We were eating a whole bowl of dressed-up acanthorphora because it contained agar, which had a mild laxative effect. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a Walgreens around the corner for a more palatable option.

“So what brought this on, anyway?” asked Garrett. “All those sea turtle eggs we ate yesterday? I didn’t think eggs caused constipation.”

“Yeah, that sucks,” added Devon. “That was a fantastic protein source. I’d hate to have to avoid it if we find another nest.”

I bit my tongue to suppress myself from verbalizing the thought that it was karma getting us for raiding a protected animal’s nest. I was going to lose all my environmental activist cred if word got out. “I don’t think it’s that the eggs caused it, so much as the lack of fiber, because those eggs were pretty much all we ate all day. They’re high in protein, but they have no fiber. I think if we just supplement our regular meals with them next time we find a nest, instead of going wild like we did yesterday, we’ll be fine.”

“Okay, good,” said Garrett. “So let’s discuss our experiment last night.”

“Sure,” I replied. I’d thought of it as more of a no-brainer than an experiment, but the rules of civilized societies were hard to shake. “So the hypothesis was that we’d be cooler without the remnants of our clothes holding in body heat. I think it was a success. I felt cooler.”

Devon peered at me with squinted eyes. “I don’t know, Henry. I wasn’t any hotter, of course, but I definitely wasn’t cooler last night.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m in the middle with Buddy,” I surmised. “I’m catching body heat from all sides.”

“I’m with Devon,” added Garrett. “No real difference for me.”

They were both full of s**t, figuratively as well as literally. Our clothes stuck to us in this wretched humidity, but I didn’t push the issue. Any latent homophobia either of them might have been harboring had gone by the wayside early on. We’d long ago given up feeling any awkwardness about sleeping in close proximity at night. I didn’t know what internal struggles they might have had about my sexuality and the intimate situations we had forced on us, but they never verbalized it. Perhaps they’d simply realized that I’d shown no s****l interest in them during that first week before they’d learned I was gay. Any preconceived notions they might have had were unsupported by a reality they’d now experienced. I didn’t want to ignite any questions in their minds by pushing for naked sleeping if the benefit wasn’t substantial.

“That’s cool,” I said. “Whatever you guys want to do is fine with me. It’s just as uncomfortable for me as it is for you guys, getting tangled up with non-lovers in my sleep. I don’t exactly relish the idea of losing those thin layers we have between us either.”

Garrett cleared his throat awkwardly. “Ah, good point, but on the other hand, our clothes will last longer if we don’t wear them at night.”

“We’re not going to be here that long!” protested Devon.

“I certainly hope not,” replied Garrett. “I meant last longer between washings, but that’s a good point, too.”

“Gah-wet hot.” Buddy got his two cents in with one of the two-word sentences he was now capable of forming. “No shirt!”

Devon grumbled. “Okay, fine. I guess if it makes the kid more comfortable. I suppose maybe it was nice not having the clothes sticking to me all night.”

I wanted to high-five Buddy for the assist, but just grinned instead.

My stomach started churning not too long after lunch. “Mild laxative effect” my ass. I went about my business for a while, collecting more papayas, since they were in full force, and deciding what to do with them for dinner. I hadn’t tried to make any kind of stew here before. Maybe I should experiment with something like that.

I left Buddy in Garrett’s care while I inspected the Tahitian chestnut trees. They were fruiting, but the fruits were not mature yet, so I discounted that option for tonight’s meal.

A cramp hit me. It was time to make my way to the potty beach. I kicked off my ratty briefs and tossed the vestiges of my shirt into a pile with them so it wouldn’t get wet—or worse—from the tail dragging in the water.

I squatted and leaned forward as another cramp tore through me. I didn’t notice Devon step out of the trees until he spoke.

“Aw, shit.” He started to turn back, then stopped. “Sorry, can’t wait.”

He quickly kicked off his boxer briefs and squatted about twenty feet away from me. I couldn’t blame him.

“No problem,” I replied. Okay, so maybe it was actually kind of a grunt, ’cause a stronger cramp hit me right then.

“That spiny s**t works.”

“Yeah, it does.” That reply didn’t come from me, it came from Garrett, who was rounding the northwest corner of the island with Buddy, heading our way at a good clip.

Buddy was still a little wary of the water. It was only a couple weeks since he and I had almost been swept away. But he felt comfortable holding one of our hands while making use of the potty beach. Buddy ran to me and got down just up-current of me, and Garrett settled in halfway between me and Devon.

“Guess I’ll join the party,” he joked as he pulled down his boxers.

“Henry throws really shitty parties,” said Devon, then he burst out laughing. Garrett snorted, and I had to chuckle at the bad pun, too.

Whatever. It was a normal bodily function. Everybody s**t. We got over it.