Goners

Avi tracks the blazing stars in the sky with his eyes. He has no cares for the celestial phenomena the deep night holds. He is searching for one thing. Movement. A plane. Avi has done this for thirty-six nights. He has been here for thirty-seven days, and he only knows this because of the marks Lonnie has carved into a nearby tree. He used to carry hope in his heart, but that optimism has since dispersed into anger. He imagines each of the still stars bursting into flames. It calms him. He sees no purpose in their existence. They’re too far to help him.

He reaches for his pack and slings it over his shoulder. His arms feel like dead weights and the pack feels as though it holds the weight of a thousand bricks. He walks back towards camp. The place they call home. They’ve tried their best to create a shelter. Driftwood is piled up around the area, but it’s futile. If a wild animal had a growing appetite in the night, the two sleeping boys were as good as dead. They’ve laid sticks overhead between the branches of surrounding trees. A pile of kindle lay in the center of the space. This had also rendered useless, as they had run out of matches seventeen days ago.

Without any way to cook meat, they’d resorted to berries and leaves. Through trial and error, they’d discovered which ones tore holes through their stomachs and which were tolerable. They each slept on either side of the makeshift campfire. Packs beneath their heads. They had no blankets. Their camp provided little protection, but it was their best option.

A few weeks ago, Lonnie had suggested that they try sleeping in the trees to keep away from predators. In the middle of the night, Avi had heard a loud screech followed by a thud. He watched as the birds took flight from the nearby treetops. He squinted his eyes in the darkness and made out a figure on the ground. 

Lonnie groaned as Avi approached him.

“Bloody Hell. What happened to you?” 

Lonnie clutched his wrist, looking up at the other boy. “What the hell do you think? I just fell out of a goddamn tree,” He snapped.

Avi bit his lip as he held back a laugh. “Are you alright?”

He shook his head. “I think I need to amputate my arm. Maybe both of them to be safe. And my legs. Maybe my head while we’re at it.”

Avi reached out a hand, and Lonnie grabbed it. He helped his friend to his feet. 

“Alright, maybe trees wasn’t the best idea,” Avi admitted. 

Lonnie glared at him. “You think?”

Avi laughed to himself at the memory. They’d set up camp on the ground that night, and they’ve slept there every night since. Well, they lie there with their eyes wide open for several hours and catch an hour of rest if they are lucky. 

Avi finds Lonnie seated on a log farther from shore. Lonnie fiddles with a piece of steel in his hand. A broken piece of their plane. 

Lonnie looks up at him. “Think we could put it back together?” He laughs quietly. 

“Yeah. All we need is some super glue and a miracle,” Avi says, shaking his head. 

“We could do it,” Lonnie sighs, chucking the metal down on the sand in front of him. Avi watches as it bounces back towards the wreck. The small fighter plane now lay in a pile of burned steel and rubber. 

“You see anything out there?” Lonnie asks. 

“You’d be the first to know if I had.”

Lonnie nods. He knew the nightly drill. “Wanna sit?” He sits down on the ground, leaning his head back against the log. 

Avi sits next to him shakily. His body has grown weak, and his bones jut out from his clothes. His vision blurs slightly as he stares out at the sky. The stars seem to move together to create a swirl of light and darkness. 

“What are you thinking about?” Avi asks the boy. His voice bounces in his mind as it enters the atmosphere. It is merely an echo in his mind.

“I’m just excited to go home,” Lonnie says. 

Avi smiles. “Me too.”

Lonnie is quiet for a while, and then he clears his throat before he speaks. “I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when we get out of here?”

“Claridge’s. I’m going to blow my life savings on a week long stay. Room service. Bath. Sleep. Repeat that every day. Until I’m ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Ready to face everything again.”

Lonnie nods. A perplexed look on his face. “Interesting.”

“What?” Avi looks at him. 

“You won’t check in with your family or anything? You know, give them a call?”

Avi shakes his head. “Nope. In my personal priorities, Claridge’s is up here,” He gestures with a raise of his hand, and then lowers it to the ground. “Telling everyone I’m alive is down here.”

Lonnie laughs dryly, rolling his eyes. “You bastard.”

“Of course I’d call my family first. I just think my Claridge’s fantasy is more enjoyable to hear about.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“What about you? What are you doing first when we get out of here?”

Lonnie thinks for a moment. “I don’t have a family to call,” He nods to himself. “I’m gonna fly to Bristol. Propose to Ginny.”

Avi nods. “I guess that’s a better answer than mine,” He laughs.

“I just don’t want to wait any longer. I’ve waited long enough. Especially after all of this.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think your family’s gonna do? When you tell them you’re alive?”

Avi has thought about this a lot. He can picture each of their faces in reaction to the news. When they saw his Caller ID flash across their screens. His mother. His father. His aunt. His sister. 

“Lose their minds probably. I can see my mother in hysterics. I can hear it. Her sobbing. I can picture my father. Trying to hold it together. It’s like when I really focus on it and try hard enough, I can feel his arms around me again. I can hear my sister yelling at me for disappearing, but I can see her eyes welling with grateful tears that she has a little brother to yell at again.”

“Do you think they’ve had a funeral for you?”

“Maybe. Some parents spend years looking for their kids though, you know? Maybe they’re still looking.”

“Yeah,” Lonnie says quietly. 

“Do you think Ginny’s out looking for you?”

“Maybe. I don’t want her to worry though. I just want her to know that I’m okay. That I’m coming back home.” As Lonnie speaks, his mind seems far away. His eyes are fogged over, and his cheeks are sunken in. He looks like a ghost of the boy who was washed up onto the island five weeks ago. 

“Yeah,” Avi says, looking over to his friend. Their bodies are too exhausted to move, and their voices are worn down to simple quiet sounds. 

It’s silent for a while before Lonnie enters another one of his coughing fits. They’ve only gotten worse since the first one. His whole body shakes, trembling with each cough. He wheezes, desperately trying to force air back into his lungs. His eyes are shut tightly, while Avi pats his back until he finally catches his breath. Lonnie clutches his chest, as he takes deep inhales of the humid air. 

“I told you to stop with this coughing act. It’s not funny,” Avi jokes. 

Lonnie begins to laugh only to start to wheeze again. “I’m never giving it up,” He croaks, spitting a wad of blood and flem onto the dirt.

Avi looks at his friend sadly. It’s quiet again. Lonnie leads his head back on the log. His head lulls to the side, as he looks up. 

The stars stare back at them, as they keep their eyes on the sky above. Life buzzes all around them, but the two boys can do nothing but lie still. Avi’s vision fades in and out. Delusion warping his mind. 

Mom? Yeah. It’s me, Mom. It’s Avi. I’m okay. I’m alive. I’m coming home. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for scaring you. I’m sorry for everything.

Avi lifts a shaky hand to the stars above. 

“I think I see a plane,” he says softly. 

“Me too.”