The Wandering Island Factory Page 3

  Chapter 3

  He sat in front of the gauges, daydreaming about last week.

  One kiss. Just one kiss with her had made it all feel magical. He knew she wanted to take it slow. Very slow. He knew her well enough to know why, too.

  It didn't matter, he was willing to put in the time.

  He couldn't afford to live in Hawaii if it weren't for this strange little job.

  He sat up and forced himself to pay attention to the gauges. His job suddenly meant a whole lot more. It directly translated into time with her. He could endure boring, for her.

  He invented a routine to keep from slipping up. He opened his notebook and entered a time, then recorded each of the gauges. He pretended like it was an official, adult job. Like it was vitally important. Like he was defusing a bomb or steering the ship. Writing it down made it feel far more important and a lot less boring.

  Every five minutes, he added to his list of numbers.

  He also got into drinking lots of coffee, and, unfortunately, peeing in a bottle.

  He stood on deck and looked out over the ocean side of the great machine. The sound of whooshing steam and pumping water was almost deafening, except in the soundproofed living quarters and control rooms. Everywhere else required hearing protection, a mix of earplugs and headphones. It made it feel like you were in solitary confinement everywhere on the ship, but it was necessary. The equipment was loud, especially when it was running full out.

  But he couldn't argue with the progress. It cranked out uniform rectangular slabs faster than anything else, and that side of the ship was crawling with tugs, cranes, and cables lashing and anchoring these carrier-long slabs of floating stone. Jackhammers and backhoes modified with grinders instead of buckets chiseled away at the imperfections, kicking up clouds of smoke and compounding the noise.

  It was the other reason they were always located so far offshore. Noise pollution was very real. He hadn't seen a fish in these waters since they started.

  Each assembled slab was perhaps six or more acres, not that he was particularly good at guessing what an acre was. A hundred acres, the size of their first order, would be completed faster than he could imagine.

  It was impressive, but it also gave him a powerful thirst to be anywhere but in the bowels of the ship while all this history was in the making.

  Two weeks later, he was on the mainland again, waiting at the beachside outdoor café like before. Gina approached across the sand with her board. "Sorry, I got tired of waiting," she said, water still dripping down the front of her swimsuit.

  "I didn't get in line for the first boat early enough, had to catch a later one."

  "Well, at least they have you staying on the same island as me. It's still a long drive, but it's been worth it so far."

  He tried to smile, but slumped a little deeper in the chair. "Sorry, I probably should have told you. I thought I could handle all this, but they shifted me to nights. I'm like on no sleep right now." He tried to sit upright, but slouched almost immediately. "I thought I could tough-guy it out for you, but I can't."

  She put her damp hand on his, "It's alright. Caught some primo waves. I can get back to them while you get some shuteye."

  He slid her the spare room key. "I ordered a burger and some fries, but I don't think I can stay awake to eat them. Especially as slow as this guy is going." He pulled out some money and handed it to her. "You can have it, if you want it. Shouldn't go to waste." He headed for his room.

  When he opened his eyes, the shower was still running and a strange duffle bag was by the TV.

  A few minutes after the water stopped, Gina emerged with a towel around her head and some fresh clothes on. "You awake?"

  "Yeah," he said, closing his eyes and leaning back in bed.

  She sat on the corner of the bed, "You sure? Because, you did this once before, and about five minutes later you were dead to the world."

  "Yeah, I'm sure."

  "I was thinking there's this awesome club that isn't too far from here."

  "Jason?" she said again. "Jason!"

  He sat up, startled.

  She laughed, "Jason, you've already fallen asleep on me three times today. I think I'm going to just go home. It's already ten at night—"

  "Oh, I'm sorry." He rubbed his eyes. "I'm being a bad host. I must have been more worn out than I had thought. I thought I was a night owl, but it's just slam— I'm sorry, I'm not holding up my end of this, am I? Stay, we'll get an early start tomorrow."

  She smiled, but went to the bathroom instead of climbing in bed.

  She came back without the towel.

  He staggered to the dresser as she settled in at the chair. "The uh," he said, "the worst part of night shift is switching back to days." He shook a bottle of melatonin, "I'm going to take two of these right now and sleep soundly until morning. I'd love it if you were still here when I got up, but I understand completely if you're not." He swallowed two dry, then went to the bathroom where he wet his toothbrush. "Look, Gina, I really like you, but I totally understand your past. Well, as much as a guy can. I'm really not going to make the first move. We can go at whatever pace you feel comfortable with, or not go anywhere at all.

  I loved chatting with you over the last few years and, I think we could have something. Getting this job and getting this assignment was the only way to find any of that out." He put some paste on the toothbrush, "In about an hour, the worst I'll be able to do is snore on you."

  She relaxed while he brushed in the other room.

  He woke well rested and ready for the morning, now that he was back on days. Well rested or not, he still woke alone.

  He sat up and looked around. The bed looked disheveled enough that she may have spent the night, but he could have tossed and turned enough to have done that too. He was disappointed, but not mad.

  She had a life here too.

  She worked Tuesday through Saturday and was taking classes at the community college, as she could afford them. She was busy. Her friends were here. Her life was here.

  He was just visiting.

  Perhaps they hit it off better in his mind than in hers.

  His assignment would last for a year; he had time. This was early in any new relationship. But it wasn't really new.

  It was weird knowing someone so well, but just recently meeting them in person.

  He laid and stared at the ceiling.

  "Don't push. Back off, you idiot." He put his hand over his eyes.

  The door clicked, then opened as Gina came back in. "You slept through breakfast, Jason, those must be prescription-grade pills."

  Sitting up, he looked to the door. She had two cups of coffee in a cardboard holder with a bag of— He took a deep sniff. Sausage biscuits. He opened the bag as she handed it to him, still in bed. "Oh, my favorite." He stuffed his face with a monster bite.

  She unwrapped one of her own, then set the cups on the nightstand. "Melatonin? That doesn't look prescription."

  He swallowed hard, "Nope, it's that hippy stuff. All natural. I was worried about getting addicted and side effects and stuff, 'cause, you know, I take it every day just to keep right on the nightshift. Plus, it's a little cheaper." He crammed another huge bite and quickly chewed it. "I get these really vivid dreams while I'm on it. I used to take a generic Unisom, but it was made from the stuff in cough medicine. It left me feeling groggy and hung over for a few hours every morning." He hungrily finished off the biscuit. "I'll trade vivid dreams for a hangover any day."

  She read the back of the bottle. "Vivid, or trippy?"

  He reached over her for one of the coffee cups, then sat facing her, as intimately as possible. "I don't really know for sure. I never had really vivid dreams before. It might be trippy," he chased that thought with a sip, "for all I know. It is found in the hippy vitamin section of the store."

  She leaned away from him, but just slightly so her back rested against the headboard, "So, what's on the agenda today?"

  "It's your is
land."

  She turned the TV to the Weather channel. Showers by noon. "We could catch a movie, or something." She checked the other channels.

  They ended up just watching movies on TV. And talking. They were very good at talking. They had chatted for years, and he was slow to understand, it was the talking that he found so attractive about her. That made her so different from all the others.