Wet Encounters Ch. 08-09

INTRODUCTION TO READERS

WET ENCOUNTERS is a novel-length story of love, lust and betrayal that takes place on a tropical Pacific island during the second half of the twentieth century.

It's seventeen chapters pivot around a single event that takes place when two people are forced to take refuge in an abandoned cabin when they are cut off by rising floodwaters.

During the three nights they spend together, they discover things about themselves and the regular occupants of the cottage that will destroy their previously stable lives.

The big question is, can anything be saved from the wreckage that remains after the floodwaters recede?

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CHAPTER EIGHT

My rumbling stomach reminded me that I'd expended a great deal of energy during the morning and I needed refuelling. Not having seen anything in the cooler box that would go off if it wasn't attended to immediately, I decided to leave it to be unpacked by Juanita. I had promised that I would let her open her present, and she needed something to take her mind off the other things she'd had to deal with this morning.

Looking at my watch for the first time since climbing out of bed early this morning, I realised that the day had already progressed to afternoon. It was just after midday. I decided to make do with a cup of coffee and a slice of damper with butter and jam to tide me over until Juanita awoke from her shock-induced sleep. 'In fact,' I thought, 'I might just climb back in beside her and sleep off my own disappointment'.

It hadn't really occurred to me that I needed to think about my own reaction to finding out that my wife was having an affair with my neighbour. In fact, he was more than just my neighbour. He was also my friend; friends of circumstance and proximity, admittedly, but friends, nonetheless. James and I played golf together every couple of weeks. Our families socialised regularly and we had dinner at each other's places at least once each month. Certainly, James and I weren't close enough that we discussed personal matters, but I would have thought I would have been able to detect any change in his attitude towards me on those occasions when we did get together. I wondered how he and Liz had managed to keep their relationship so secret from Juanita and me during the time it had been going on.

The other side of the question, of course, was how Juanita and I were going to keep our relationship from our partners? Or, for that matter, whether we wanted to do so? I would have to discuss our options with Juanita, of course, but as much as I loved her, I couldn't in all good conscience, continue our relationship if it meant that we had to sneak about to do it. I would much rather come out and declare our love for each other and let the chips fall where they may.

I hadn't fallen out of love with Liz as a result of falling in love with Juanita. That had happened as a result of finding out that she had been carrying on an illicit affair for the best part of a year. I couldn't deny that I was deeply hurt and disappointed and that my love for her had had had taken a beating.

In hindsight, though, it didn't come as all that much of a surprise, in light of her lapses before our marriage. What was surprising, though, was that she had been able to hide it so well. Maybe I'm naïve, but I saw no indication of guilt or that there was anything untoward happening in her life. The fact that she could be so deceitful over such a long period was what hurt me the most. Before my recent discoveries, I would have sworn on a stack of bibles that she was incapable of such duplicity.

The one thing I did know, however, was that, no matter how things turned out when we found our way back to the other side of the creek, I would never be able to trust my wife again. By her actions, she had shown herself to be disloyal and perfidious.

I'm not usually a violent man but the sorrow and disappointment I felt after discovering my wife's infidelity quickly turned to anger. I started pacing the floor, willing the water to go down so I could cross the swollen creek to get at James and beat him to a pulp. I had never raised a hand to a female and certainly hoped that that would remain true throughout my life, but I would throw Liz out of my house as soon as I had finished with her lover.

I went out through the front door of the little cottage to check on the water level. It appeared to have risen and was lapping at the next step. In my anger-fuelled haze, I couldn't remember whether that meant it was slowing; it was increasing; or it was rising at a constant rate. That inability to focus made me even angrier and I roared loudly in my frustration. It was a sound that came from the centre of my being.

"What was that noise?" I heard Juanita ask from behind me. "It was the most terrifying sound I have ever heard. I've heard jaguars in the jungles near my home in Ecuador but they never sounded as fear-inspiring as that. It woke me and I immediately thought of a large wounded lion on the African veldt or a tiger in India. It was a sound I would imagine coming from either of those places, not from here."

"I'm not sure what it was, my darling," I said. "But you're right, it did sound as if it was suffering. I'd like to be able to go and ease that suffering but I'm afraid that will have to wait until the tide goes out a bit. As you can see, it's a tad high at the moment. And still rising by the look of it. Although it's good to see that the wind has eased a little.

"Let's go back inside out of the damp. Seeing as you're up, we might as well open up your box of goodies and see what it contains."

As I turned to usher my lover inside the house, she threw her arms around me and held me tightly.

"I don't want to hide our love for each other," she said with her head buried into my chest. I don't want to have to sneak around as James and Liz have been doing. I hate sneaky people and I don't want to be one of them. It goes against everything I believe in. Besides, I could never get away with it. James would spot my attempt at guile straight away. What surprises me is that I haven't been able to see any difference in his behaviour. If his affair with Liz has been going on for as long as we think it has, surely I would have picked up some sign of his infidelity. But I've seen nothing."

"I been thinking along the same lines as you have, my darling," I said with the top of her head tucked under my chin. "Like you, I've seen nothing that would have made me question Liz' loyalty or her lack of commitment to our marriage vows. Everything seems to have been running smoothly on the home front and there has been no noticeable change to our sexual activity that would even make me suspect that she was having an affair. Of course, this cabin puts the lie to that. The fact that it contains items from both our homes tells us the truth. I can now never feel the same way about Liz and I'm sure it's the same with you and your feelings toward James.

"So far as hiding our feelings for each other goes, I'm pleased that you feel the way you do. I, too, would prefer that we didn't hide anything. Like you, I detest sneaky people and what we have found here tells me that both James and Liz fall into that category. It would be hypocritical of me to condemn it in them but indulge in the same form of deceit myself.

"But even if our relationship had remained as it was - with you being the aristocratic plantation owner's wife and me being the lowly plantation manager sent to rescue her - and we had not fallen under each other's romantic spells, we would still have discovered each of our partners' adulterous activities when we took shelter in this cabin.

"In fact, had I not accidentally released your nymphomaniacal tendencies and been forced to suffer numerous sexual assaults for my pains, we probably would have discovered them sooner than we did

"Who knows, we may have only been putting off the inevitable. Perhaps the discovery of our spouses' betrayal may have eventually brought down the wall that existed between us and we would have ended up in exactly the same place we now find ourselves. I'd certainly like to think that that would have been the case because I would hate to think that we wouldn't somehow have arrived at this point."

"I agree with everything you have said, my darling," Juanita said. "But we mustn't forget that we gave in to our lustful feelings for each other before we knew about James' and Liz' affair. If I remember correctly, we even said that we would have to revert to our former selves once we crossed back over to the other side of the creek. I think we also agreed that we would have to take what we could get when we could get it.

"While not excusing them, perhaps James and Liz made the same pact with each other. Perhaps their affair has been going on for longer than is indicated by this little love nest. Whatever the case, however, they have managed to keep their affair hidden - from us, at least - for quite a long time. Would we have been able to do the same? I doubt it. James can pretend to go away to planter's conferences and meetings for days at a time. I can't do that. I might be able to get away for a few hours but I couldn't be absent for days on end. I have no idea how Liz has been able to manage it."

"I've been thinking about that," I said. "I have had to go away for a few days or a week - a couple of weeks on one occasion - to fill in for absent managers on other Company-owned plantations. They would have been able to fit their overnight assignations around those trips.

"There have been other occasions when I have had to go to town on business that Liz would have known would have taken me all day if they wanted to get a few hours of fucking in. It would be too risky to do it while I was out and about on the plantation but there'd be no reason why Liz couldn't take a flying visit over to your place while you were in town on your tennis days.

"If we were to allow it to continue, they would eventually become overconfident and they'd slip up. Dishonest people always do. For part of my early life, I grew up in hotels that my parents either managed or owned. While my father taught me the bar management side of things, my mother taught me the administration side. She knew all the tricks that thieving staff members could get up to. The one thing that stuck in my mind, however, was that dishonest people will become too cocky and too greedy and will eventually try for that one extra tickle of the till that brings them undone.

"Whether James and Liz are eventually caught by one of us or are caught sneaking a lover's touch or a surreptitious kiss by someone else, all the protective walls they've built around themselves will eventually come tumbling down."

I broke our cuddle and led Juanita over to the kitchen.

"It took every ounce of self-control I have not to open that box," I said to her. "I was sorely tempted but made do with a cup of coffee and a slice of the damper to tide me over until you woke up. I have to admit, though, that I am really looking forward to eating something that has an egg involved in the recipe."

"Then you shall be forced to wait no longer, my lovely man," Juanita said. "If you would be kind enough to remove the ropes that you have tied everything down with, I will introduce you to culinary delights of which - since being marooned - you have only dreamed."

"I wasn't game to remove the ropes for fear that I wouldn't be able to stop myself from going further," I explained, as I untied them and removed the canvas and hanks of heavy rope I had taken from her truck and tied to the top of the box. I left her to unpack it while I took the other items out and deposited them on the front verandah. I would look at how to make use of them later in the afternoon.

By the time I returned to the kitchen, Juanita had rescued her shoulder bag and had unpacked the cooler box. My eyes boggled at the treasures it had contained. In addition to the treasures I'd already seen, there was a smallish bag of potatoes, another of onions and a half a pumpkin. There was also a dozen tomatoes and a bag of carrots and a dozen apples.

Included among the items that were going to make our closeness a bit more tolerable were a couple of toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste. The personal hygiene paraphernalia also included a box of bath soap and a large jar of moisturising cream. I thought they would both prove useful over the next few days.

A couple of other items came out of the cooler box would help make our lives a little more bearable during our enforced stay. One was a forty-ounce bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label whisky. The other, an equally large bottle of Gilbey's Gin.

Juanita - who, I assumed, was the gin drinker - would be able to mix hers as she had also bought a dozen small bottles of tonic water. I would have to drink James' scotch neat as I wasn't wholly trusting of the water. 'Still,' I thought, 'I've had to make tougher sacrifices'.

I was just thankful that James preferred Black Label. If it had been Red Label, I might have been tempted to add water to it. Our other friend, Harry, drank Red Label in copious quantities and used water to cut it down. He still had no trouble knocking back a whole bottle over dinner. I was nowhere near being in his league and preferred to sip my scotch.

As she was unpacking them, Juanita explained that this was a small order of supplies that she'd bought locally while they were awaiting their main supply order, which was due to arrive by ship from Rabaul during the following week. I understood. Liz and I often did the same thing while awaiting our regular orders.

After negotiating toothbrush colours with Juanita, the first thing I did once the unpacking had been accomplished, was to fill a cup with cooled boiled water and head to the bathroom to clean my teeth. Juanita followed me with her own cup of water a few minutes later to undertake the same task.

While she was cleaning her teeth, I removed our toilet bucket and took it out the front door and down the steps before emptying it into the floodwaters on the downstream side of the house. After rinsing the bucket, I returned it to the bathroom and covered it with the cloth that Juanita had found in the pantry.

With our personal hygiene duties over and done with, we returned to the kitchen, where I offered - because we had two-dozen eggs to play with - to knock us up an omelette for lunch.

"It's hardly lunch," Juanita said. "If I were going to call it anything, I would call it afternoon tea. In fact, I'm wondering if we shouldn't hold off and wait for dinner. I wouldn't want you to spoil your appetite."

"Spoil my appetite?" I almost yelled. "Spoil my appetite? Woman, I've been up since dawn's early light. I've cut and carried firewood and pumped water. I've fought off crocodiles to go and rescue your handbag and collect eggs from the chook-house. I've slaughtered a pig and smoked the bacon. I've gone to the trade store to get a few meagre groceries. I've then fought my way back through those same crocodile-infested waters and had to satisfy the licentious demands of a nymphomaniac housewife-cum-tennis star - and I've done all that on a cup of coffee and a slice of cold damper - and now you suggest that I put off eating until this evening?

"I'm guessing that you want me to fill in my time while waiting for the timepiece to strike dinner o'clock by fucking your brains out?"

"Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that," she said, holding onto her sides while she was laughing. "But, yes, you seem to have got the gist of it. If you're going to be all pouty about it, though, I suppose we could have a light meal now, so you will be better able to - as you so crudely put it, Matthew - fuck my brains out."

CHAPTER NINE

With what I assumed to be royal permission to eat having been granted, I removed the cast iron skillet from its hook above the stove and, after rinsing it under the hot water tap to remove any dust and anything else that might have accumulated on it since it was last used, put it on the stovetop to warm. Not finding a mixing bowl, I gave a saucepan the same treatment as I had given the skillet. It, too, I placed on the stovetop to warm. Using a blunt knife, I peeled and diced one of the onions that Juanita had brought from town and threw it into the saucepan. I then did the same with a tomato. I remembered seeing a block of soft smoked cheddar cheese in amongst the provisions Juanita had unpacked from the cooler box. After searching about, I eventually found it in the fridge. With nothing to grate it with, I cut a couple of inches of cheese from the block and cut it up into small pieces.

"Would you grab the salt and pepper off the table for me, please, sweetheart?" I asked Juanita, who was sitting on the chair we were using as a clothes dryer, which I had pushed back against the wall to give me full access to the stove.

While she was away, I checked the firebox to ensure that I had enough coals to cook with. I then went in search of the other ingredient I had seen in the cooler box: mushrooms. Once again, I found them in the fridge and diced up two of them before throwing them onto the saucepan with the other ingredients.

Before whisking the eggs I had broken into a smaller saucepan, I cut four slices of bread from one of the loaves and laid them on the stovetop. I then asked Juanita to hand me the pepper and salt, which I then sprinkled into both the eggs and the other ingredients.

With everything ready, I started to whisk the eggs with a fork, adding four half eggshells of cooled boiled water to them as I whisked. Once they had reached the consistency I wanted, I poured them into the larger saucepan and began mixing everything together. With all the ingredients blended, I lifted the cover from the firebox and placed the skillet over the hole. I then raced into the bedroom and retrieved the saucer of butter I had taken in there earlier. Using a spoon, I dropped a couple of dollops of butter into the frypan. As it melted. I swirled it around to thoroughly coat the surfaces of the bottom and sides.

Just before I gave the ingredients a final stir and poured them into the pan, I flipped the bread on the stovetop.

"I'll need a couple of clean dinner plates and a side plate, please, my love, I said as I began pouring the egg and vegetable mix into the heated skillet. It sizzled beautifully as it hit the bottom and spread out to fill the pan.

"I think this is going to be more of a scrambled quiche than an omelette," I said to Juanita. As I passed her the toasted bread, which I'd put onto the side plate. "Would you mind throwing some butter onto those for me, please? This will probably take another ten minutes or so."

With the omelette-cum-quiche partially done, I placed it into the oven to cook through. Fifteen minutes later, I was serving it onto our dinner plates and carrying it to the table. Juanita had remained silent during the whole process.

"You've been very quiet," I said to her as I held her chair out for her. Once she was seated, I unrolled her serviette and laid it across her lap.

"I was completely dumbstruck," she said. "Not once in the seven years we've been married, have I ever seen James use a cooking utensil. Besides, I was too busy watching your bum moving about to distract you."

We both laughed as we tucked into out later than planned luncheon meal. Truth be told, after this, we probably wouldn't want anything other than a snack for dinner; a light supper, perhaps.

"This is delicious," Juanita said. "Will you marry me? I'm not about to let someone who can cook like this - and who is also adequate in bed - get away."