Stranded in Paradise

I have fallen in love twice in my life. I met Diane in high school and we got married shortly thereafter. She was my entire world, until an aneurysm stole her from me. The second time I fell in love was with the sea.

The wind whips past my face, the sky is clear, salt tinges the air, and Diane's ring is warm against my chest. I am alive.

"Hey, Dad, I think there's land over there." Robyn points over the port side of the bow.

"Think so?" I ask.

There's a distant impression of... something... it certainlycouldbe an island.

"What island do you think it is? You think we could buy some food?"

"I have no idea what island that's supposed to be. There's no guarantee we'll be able to speak to the inhabitants, if there evenareany inhabitants."

"Wanna go see? I don't wanna be on rations 'til we get to Bora Bora," says Robyn.

I have to admit, I'm curious about the island. "Sure, why not?"

We change tack, letting the wind pull us toward the island.

We drop anchor as close as safety permits.

"Dad, look! There's people!" She points.

Four people have come out onto the beach, waving excitedly over their heads.

We lower our inflatable tender and pilot it to the sandy beach.

There are palm trees along the beach, but a dozen or so feet inland, it transitions to an overgrown jungle.

I help Robyn out of the tender.

The islanders, a young man and three young women, approach. They certainly don't look Polynesian. They could be visitors like us, or they could be castaways.

The young man extends his hand, grin flashing across his features. "Welcome to paradise, I'm Danny Fortner." He has an American accent.

We shake hands. "Mike Deane," I say.

"These are my sisters, Gwen and Poppy." He points to the tall, willowy one, and then the short, chubby one who enthusiastically waves at me. "And this is my cousin, Kit." He gestures to the dark-haired bombshell.

"I'm Robyn!" says my daughter, shaking Danny's hand.

"That's a nice sailboat! Is it just the two of you on board?" asks Poppy, Danny's younger sister.

"Yeah, it's just me and my dad sailing to Bora Bora right now, but New Zealand's our final destination," says Robyn.

"Now that's a coincidence. New Zealand was our end point before we got shipwrecked," says Gwen.

"You're really shipwrecked then? How long have you been on the island?" I ask.

Danny's brow furrows. "A little over a year, but I'm not really sure exactly. What's the date?"

My daughter checks her phone. "July thirteenth."

"Damn, yeah, we've been here for just over thirteen months."

"That's so crazy! Has it been fun?" Asks Robyn.

That wouldn't have beenmyfirst question...

Danny smiles with his mouth, but his eyes bear an emotion that's somehow equally like and unlike happiness, like he's joyfully recounting an evil deed. The expression vanishes as quickly as it appeared. "Yeah, I'd say it's been fun. We found some good ways to pass the time," he says casually.

His tall, willowy sister, Gwen, glares at him for just a moment.

"Want some food?" asks their cousin Kit

Robyn lights up. "That would be awesome! I'm sooo hungry!"

We follow them inland, past the palm trees, until we get to a small clearing with a fire pit next to a small bamboo hut.

I walk around the hut and feel it up. It's well put together, especially considering the material they had to work with. There's a simple firepit in the center of the hut, with a cook pot hanging over it, dried fish on the walls, tropical fruits, and little white flowers on the mat off to the side.

I head back to the campfire outside. "Solid construction."

"Thanks, man. Kit and I did most of the construction, though Gwen built the fish smoker," says Danny.

There are six benches, made of squared-off polished logs, forming a ring around the barely smoldering campfire.

Kit disappears into the kitchen hut, Danny shares a bench with Gwen, draping his arm around her neck. Robyn and I share a bench. Poppy sits alone for now.

"So, what brought you to our island? Could you see us from that far off?" asks Gwen.

"No, we were just looking for food or supplies; we weren't expecting to find actual castaways," I say.

"Would you be able to fit us all on your boat?" asks Poppy.

"Of course. It'll be a little cramped, but I wouldn't dream of leaving you all trapped here," I say.

"Two and a half of us are competent sailors. We'll make ourselves useful," Gwen says.

"Much obliged," I say, "wait,'half?'Who's half a sailor?"

Poppy, Gwen, and Danny all point at Poppy at the same time. This wins a smile from me and a chuckle from Robyn.

"Where are you sailing from?" asks Gwen.

"We sailed down to Cabo; hung out there for a bit: great beaches, super fun. You've just gotta go if you haven't been. The plan is that I'll sail with Dad 'til we get to New Zealand, hang out there a bit, then I'll fly back home," says Robyn.

"Where's home?" Asks Poppy.

"SoCal. Where are you guys from?" Asks Robyn.

"We're from Cambridge, Mass: it's near Boston," says Poppy.

"Oh yeah, that's where Harvard is, right? I've got a friend who goes there," says Robyn.

This wins blank stares from our hosts. After a few moments, Gwen asks, "you have a friend that goes to Harvard?"

"Yeah, she's super smart. We graduated at the same time, but I've been taking a kind of gap year; not sure what I want to do with my life yet, I guess," says Robyn.

"You're always welcome to stay with me, you know that," I say.

"I know, Daddy."

Kit brings out the food: coconut shell bowls containing chunks of fish and some kind of starch in a thick carmine sauce.

"Do a lot of clubbing in Cabo?" asks Kit.

Robyn chuckles. "No, that's not my scene at all. Plus, Dad would totally kill me."

"No drinking, no drugs. That's all I ask. You make me sound like a tyrant," I say lightheartedly. Robyn doesn't have much interest in that kind of thing anyway.

"That's not a bad rule," says Gwen amiably.

We all eat in silence for a few moments. "This is really good, Kit," I say, "the saltiness of the fish and the sweetness of the sauce balance well."

Her facial lineaments soften into a genuine smile. "Thanks so much!" She gestures at her cousins. "These assholes don't complement my cooking much anymore."

"You're a great cook, Kitty, we're all just sick of eating the same things every day," Danny says through a mouthful of Kit's cooking.

"I get that. Being forced to eat the same thing every day is kind of my personal idea of hell," says Robyn.

"I'm sure you kids want to get off the island as soon as possible. You could pack up your things as soon as we're done eating," I say.

This wins uncertain expressions from our hosts. They trade glances, but none of them speaks for a spell.Odd...

"Well... there's this." Danny gestures with his empty bowl for emphasis. "We've been stranded for a while; it will take a bit of time to pack. Plus, we'd like to bring as much food as we can. If you guys dropped by 'cuz you're looking for food, it's safe to say we'd be on pretty strict rationing if we didn't bring any."

"Good point. How much food could you bring?" I ask.

Gwen smiles proudly.

Danny chuckles. "We'll have to show you our larder; Gwen's been attempting a fish genocide. We've got more than enough smoked fish to last us all to Bora Bora. We'll want to bring some fresh fruit, though, too. It might be the move for you guys to stay the night."

Robyn brightens at this. "Sounds fun, like a mini vacation! If that's alright with you, Dad."

"That'd be fine. Do you have a guest room prepared?" I let the absurdity hang in the air.

"Actually, yeah, kinda," says Danny. "You guys could share my old hut. Gwen and I share a hut now."

Why does he share a hut with his sister?

Instead, I say, "sounds good."

It takes a little while for Robyn and me to get our stuff into the cabin.

Robyn goes off on a tour of the island with the girls. I sit on the beach with Danny. The sun is beginning to set over the ocean, painting the sky and the sea orange. He expertly hacks the tops off two coconuts, handing one to me.

"You're good with that hatchet."

"Yeah, well, you would be too if you lived here on New Cambridge this long."

"New Cambridge?"

"That's the name of the island. We're not too creative with naming things."

"How did you guys get stranded anyway?" I ask.

He tells me the story: his dad used to go sailing with them, but they never did a Pacific crossing with him, they went in his memory and got caught in a storm.

"I'm sorry to hear about your dad. You kids have had a rough few years."

"It hasn't all been bad," he gets that evil glint in his eye again, but just for a moment. "How'd you and Robyn get started sailing?"

I suppose I should be honest. "I'd never been sailing when Robyn's mother Diane was still alive. After she passed, I just threw myself at work for a few years, really burned myself out. I didn't know what to do. I even started seeing a psychiatrist. They thought it was a good idea for me to try to make some good memories with Robyn, and I agreed: she was still little at the time. I took her to Huntington Beach, and while she was splashing around, I watched some windsurfers for what felt like hours. I can't really describe it, something about the way the wind and water interact, the balance and chaos of it, I just knew I had to experience it for myself."

"So you started windsurfing?"

"No, that's just what put the idea in my head. The day after our trip to the beach, I bought a sailboat, didn't even try to negotiate. My only condition was that they had to teach me to sail. I've had to learn a lot over the years, but I don't regret it for an instant."

"Damn, I wish I could just buy a boat like that. What do you do for work?"

"Real estate development, upper management. It can be draining, but it has its perks. I've got things set up now where I can be away for a while on my voyages, and no one bothers me."

"Damn, that's pretty sick. Has Robyn been with you on a lot of your voyages?"

"Only a few small trips before this, she's nineteen, so she's had to work around her school schedule."

"That makes sense. Has--" he's cut off by the girls emerging from the woods.

Robyn's wearing a lei and crown made of tropical flowers. Red and white complement her fiery hair aglow in the sunset. She looks so much like her mother.

"Doesn't she look cute?" asks Kit.

She really does. I say, "you look beautiful, Robyn."

"Thanks, Dad."

Danny gives me an oddly sly look.

"Wanna go eat? I'm starving!" says Poppy.

"Sure, Popsicle, meet you there," says Danny.

By the time we get there, the sun has fully set. It's a cool evening, at least by tropical standards, but the fire is burning bright.

Dinner is very similar to what we had for lunch. It's still good, but I'm beginning to understand how they got sick of this.

"Normally we tell stories at night," says Gwen, "anyone got anything?"

"I've actually been working on something. I'm proud of this one," says Poppy.

This wins groans from her relatives.

"Not right now, Popsie, your stories are too weird," says Danny.

"I can't help it if I'm creative!" she responds.

"You're way too creative, that's the problem," says Danny.

"I'd like to hear your story, Poppy. Unless someone else has a better one," says Robyn.

With her confidence restored, Poppy launches into a whimsical tale about a plane that comes to life and falls in love with her pilot. They fly around the Pacific together, spreading peace and love, until their commander orders the strike on Pearl Harbor. They meet their end together, in a kamikaze dive against the hull of an American battleship.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Poppy, what the fuck was that?!" Kit asks politely.

Poppy just laughs in response.

"I don't know, I think it was actually kinda poignant. Like, they were doomed from the beginning but didn't know it yet. But they still chose to be together, in life and in death," says my daughter.

I think you're reading a bit too much into it,I don't say out loud.

All four of our hosts look at Robyn in genuine surprise.

"You actually liked Poppy's story?" asks Gwen, baffled.

"Yeah, I did."

"Thanks, Robyn," says Poppy, even more shocked than Gwen.

We all retire to our huts early; all of us are on a pretty similar sleep schedule: rising and setting with the sun.

Robyn and I take turns in the hut getting changed into our pajamas.

Robyn is wearing a tank top, her red hair almost long enough to cover the impressions her nipples make in the fabric. I try not to look.

"Can we stay for a few days, Dad?" she asks abruptly.

"What? Why?"

"We found castaways in the middle of the Pacific. We'll probably remember this for the rest of our lives. Shouldn't we enjoy it?"

"I don't know Robyn. I'm sure these people want to leave as soon as possible. They've been stuck here long enough."

"I don't know, Daddy, I really don't think they'll mind. They've been here for so long, so what's another day or two?"

"Let's just get to bed."

We retire to our cots. They're surprisingly comfortable. It's nice to sleep on terra firma again.

My bladder wakes me up in the night. I slip out of the hut to find a tree sufficiently far away. I get lost on the way back from answering nature's call; the lack of artificial light is pretty jarring. Although maybe I'm wrong: there's some kind of light through the trees. I follow it.

Before the cabin comes into view, I can hear a woman moaning.

One of the girls must be loudly masturbating. I guess it must get lonely on an island with just your relatives around.

I'm about to back away when I can't help but notice the sound of two bodies slapping together. Surely they can't be having sex, that's crazy.

"Oh fuck, Danny! I'm gonna--" screams Gwen, followed by a moan of pleasure.

Against my better judgment, I inch closer to the hut. It's well built, but not exactly airtight. I need to know. I peek through a gap between the wall and the door. Danny is on top of his sister, Gwen. They're having sex in the missionary position.

I shouldn't watch. I should head back to the hut. I should wake Robyn and leave the island, leaving these psychos stranded. What they're doing is disgusting. It's morally wrong.

I'm rock hard. I start casually rubbing myself, purely out of instinct.

Gwen moans in time with Danny's rhythm.

"Fuck, Gwen, I'm close." He pants.

"Cum in me, Danny!" She screams.

"But you're out of birth control!" Danny gasps.

"I don't care, get me pregnant!" She moans.

"Wha- if... if that's what you want. I'm so close. I'm cumming!" Danny thrusts violently into his sister and stays inside her.

Holy shit! He's actually trying to get her pregnant. I should be disgusted, and I think I probably am, but right now I'm too close to cumming to care.

I take my hand off my dick and disappear into the jungle. It takes a little while, stumbling through the dark, to find my hut. My mind is still racing, and my erection hasn't gone down at all. I really need to cum.

I get back to the hut, moonlight floods in behind me as I open the door. Robyn is fast asleep, one of her small breasts, A or B cups surely, has escaped her tank top.

I watch her chest rise and fall in the gentle rhythm of sleep. She's as beautiful as her mother, no, she's more beautiful than her mother. I wouldn't be watching her like this if I weren't already so aroused. I stoke myself to her as quietly as I can, I imagine the scene with Gwen and Danny, but with Robyn and me instead. Pinning her small frame down, feeling her ecstasy, hearing her moans of pleasure, begging me to cum inside her. I can't take it anymore, I finish on the wall of the hut.

Post-nut clarity has never been so painful. Oh my God, what the fuck am I doing?

I clean the evidence of my passion off the wall and collapse into my cot. We need to leave this place before any more weird shit happens.

I wake up, slowly and peacefully, before last night's memories jolt me awake.

Robyn's already up. "Morning, Dad. Do you mind if Gwen shows me how to spearfish? She offered yesterday. It shouldn't take too long."

I'm not sure if Gwen would be a good influence.

"Uh, sure, Robyn," I say.

We head out to the firepit. The Fortners are all gathered there. Poppy is lying her head on her cousin Kit's lap. Gwen is leaning against Danny's side affectionately. It wouldn't seem weird if it weren't for the fact that I know they're fucking.

"Mornin', guys. There's some spare bananas if you want them," says Danny.

We each eat our breakfast bananas in relative silence. I don't know what to say, but I know that I have to talk to Danny about what I saw.

After Robyn leaves with Gwen to go spear fishing, I address him. "Danny. Can we have a little chat, guy-to-guy?" I motion him to follow me.

"Uh, sure, man."

We head inland, out of earshot of the girls.

"So... What's up?" he asks.

"I saw something last night... I wasn't trying to spy on anyone or anything. I got lost and, well, it doesn't really matter... I don't really know how to put this, so I'll just come out and say it: I heard you and Gwen having sex."

"You were peeping on me and Gwen? You're just like my little sister, dude. She does that kind of shit all the time."

"Well, that's not really my point."

"I know, it's just kind of annoying. Like, I don't mind if Poppy wants to be around, but just don't spy on me. It's weird."

"Danny!" I say, "I saw you having sex with your own sister. Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

His expression turns grave. "Not really, no. Except this: Gwen and I are both adults, and we both consent. We're not even breaking the law, since New Cambridge isn't exactly a real country. If you can't handle that, that's your problem, not mine."

"I could make it your problem. I could take Robyn and leave you all stranded. I probably should."

"That's your choice, totally up to you, dude. You think I want to go back to civilization, where I have to hide my relationship with Gwen? It'll be nice to watch YouTube, eat Hot Pockets, and all the other pleasures of modern life, but I'm in no rush."

"I'm willing to take you off the island, but you have to stop having sex with your sisters. Itcertainlycan't happen on my boat. I don't need Robyn exposed to that kind of thing."

He looks at me appraisingly. "Wait... You're notjealous,are you?"

"No. Whatever youthinkyou mean is way off base." I try to sound firm, but something in my tone gives me away, because he  grins at me.

"That's it, isn't it? You just hate to see another king winning." He chuckles. "Robyn's cute, I can see why you're into her."

I should flatly deny it, but this is the only opportunity I've had to be honest about this. "It's not that I'm... ugh... fine. I may have some complicated feelings for Robyn, but I love her like a daughter, and it should stay that way. It doesn't matter whatever else I may feel for her, or where we are. She's still my daughter."

"Yeah, that's rough, man. I'd hate to be stuck on an island with one of my hot relatives. Sounds like torture." He's still got that shit-eating grin on his face.

I try to punch back. "Do Kit and Poppy know that you're having sex with Gwen?"

He actually has the audacity to laugh. "We're all fucking each other, dude. We gotta pass the time somehow, I guess."

I have no idea what to say to this.

"Come on, man, you understand the temptation at some level. You admitted that much. It wouldn't be such a bad thing for you or for Robyn to stay with us a few days. How about it?" Danny says.

"I don't know... I don't think it's a good idea. You must understand why I think your family would be a bad influence on my daughter."