Summer explained why she loved this tiny, empty island. No one lived here, no one ever landed here, and she could be alone with her thoughts.
“If you want to be alone, I can leave now,” Bryce said.
“No, this is great. I don’t know anyone my age here, and it’s lonely.”
“I know that feeling. I’ve had lots of friends up here over the years, but they’ve either sold off their camps or just stopped coming. Even my brothers stopped coming. I suspect someday soon I won’t come back either.”
“So, then, we can be friends. We can share this island,” she said with a smile.
“Do you sail?” he asked.
“No, we have a big boat, and I get to use the outboard, but I’ve never sailed.”
“Want to learn?”
“What? Now?”
“You have somewhere you need to be?”
“I would love to!”
Bryce took Summer’s hand and walked her to the boat, explaining how it worked, how the sails caught air, and how he could manipulate them to move in any direction. He then helped her put on a life jacket, and as he secured it around her waist, his hand felt her soft skin.
The two sailed around their tiny island for the next two hours and back and forth across the wide river. Summer was all smiles, loving the freedom of the water and wind and fascinated by Bryce’s skill. Something about skillful men spoke to her. Perhaps it was instinctive, wanting a mate who could achieve and provide, but whatever it was, by the time they returned to their tiny unnamed island, she found herself staring at Bryce awkwardly.
“This was great,” she exclaimed.
“Sun will be setting soon,” Bryce commented. “It would be best to start returning to your island before it gets too dark. It was nice meeting you.”
“It was. Hey, do you want to meet out here tomorrow? I was planning on coming back with my sketchbook to draw some still life. Could we meet again?”
Bryce looked at her, thanking God for the invitation. She asked him to see her again. Knowing of her strict family, he had hesitated to ask for the same, but now it was on the table.
“You probably have things to do-” she started.
“No, I have nothing to do. I’ve had nothing to do all summer. So yes, let’s meet here at nine in the morning tomorrow. I’ll bring some sandwiches.
No, I’ll make us lunch, but you bring the Cokes, lots of them. Do you have any chocolate?
“I’m sure we have some Hershey bars.”
Bring those two; if I’m going to burn in hell for drinking coke, I might as well have some chocolate, too.
Bryce helped Summer into her outboard and followed her toward her island until he was sure she could get there safely. She waved goodbye, and he turned his sailboat and headed to his camp about a mile downriver. What a day. What a fantastic day.
_____________________________________________________________
“How was the sailing today?” Bryce’s mother asked.
“Great. I found a mermaid on a tiny island.”
She wasn’t really asking and wasn’t listening, either.
“Nice, well, glad you met someone. Have her over sometime.”
“I will, but she’s a mermaid, so she’ll have to stay in the water.”
“That’s nice, dear. Wash up for dinner.”
The following day, Bryce got up early, grabbed as many cokes as possible in his cooler, and raided the pantry for anything chocolate. He was out the door before most people were awake and on his way to the tiny island. With the wind at his back, he would probably get there two hours early, so it surprised him when he pulled into the rocky inlet and Summer’s outboard was already there.
“I don’t know why, but I got up much earlier than usual, so I figured I’d arrive early,” she yelled from the shore.
“Same here,” Bryce said with a smile.
The two spent most of the morning exploring the small island and finding some campsite remains, but there was little evidence of recent activity.
“We should claim this island as our independent nation,” Bryce suggested. “We are right on the Canadian and American borderline in the river, so we’ll have to secede from both nations.”
“It will be an international incident! Do we do a democracy? Have elections? One of us is President, and the other is not.”
“No, when you own the land, it must be a monarchy. We can be king and queen. This way, we have equal power, and everyone else, all our subjects, is beholden to us.”
“Wow, queen of the island. I hope all that power does not go to my head.”
“Well, it’s a beautiful head, so I doubt your subjects will mind.”
Summer looked at Bryce with a gentle smile.
For lunch, Summer had peanut butter and jelly and a can of Coke to wash it down. She had three Cokes, followed by an enormous belch. When she realized what she had done, her face went beet red.
Bryce laughed, which took some of the embarrassment away.
“Relax, don’t be so uptight. You burped. It’s not like you farted.”
“I did yesterday.”
“I’m pretty sure everyone farts every day.”
“When you found me in the water, I had been walking around this island naked. I just wanted to be free, alone, and natural. I peed, standing up. I got some on my leg, but it was fun, and then when I was walking around, I needed to fart, and I just let it go. It was glorious.”
“The fart?”
“No, the freedom. No one judges me, watches me, tells me what to do, or tells me what not to do”.
“Like drinking Coke and farting?”
“Mormons fart, Bryce. Me not farting in public is more of a civil society thing.”
“Let’s name our island. Something only we will know.”
“No, let’s let the island tell us its name.”
“How will that happen?”
“I’m not sure, but when it does, we’ll know it.”
“Agreed.”
Bryce reached into his backpack and mysteriously pulled out a box.
“I have something. I know it’s forbidden, and we’ve only known each other for two days, but I will go for it.”
Summer was concerned. What was about to happen?
Bryce pulled out a box of Oreo cookies.
“You wanted chocolate, so I bought you the motherload.”
The two sat on the rocks and watched boats pass in the distance, enjoying each other’s company. Bryce showed her how to eat an Oreo by sliding it open, licking the cream, and then eating the chocolate part.
After they ate, Bryce took Summer sailing, teaching her the basics. She loved every minute of the instruction, especially when Bryce held her tight to show her how to trim, sail, and swing the boom. They returned to their unnamed island and fell asleep in the shade until it was time to go.
Again, Bryce followed her almost to her island and then headed home.
The two met on the unnamed island daily. Summer brought her sketchbook and would draw trees, rocks, and other natural still life. Bryce repeatedly remarked that she should be in an art school instead of studying sociology. That brought up the topic of BYU and how it was her parent’s choice, and art school or any other school was never on the table. Worse yet, she was scheduled to go on her mission in the spring, where she would be trained to visit with strangers and try to convince them to join the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. She was dreading it.
___________________________________________________________
After dinner with her family, Summer’s mother asked where she went when she motored off daily.
“I visit a few of the islands, go bird watching, and do several still-life drawings.”
“May I see them?”
Summer was happy and proud to show her artwork. She flipped through her sketchbook and impressed her mother with her detailed drawings.
“You’ve always been so talented with your artwork. I’m sure they’ll want you to teach art when you go on your mission.”
Her mother focused on one drawing, an image of the rocky shore of an island. On one of the rocks was a pair of boat shoes.
“Whose shoes are those?”
Summer played it cool.
“I found them in the sand and put them on a rock. I like the way they caught the afternoon sun.”
She had no intention of telling her mother about Bryce. After all, there was no story to tell. But yeah, those were his shoes.
That night, she looked at her drawings and returned to the shoes on the rock. Something about that image made her heart race, and she quietly crept her hand down until her fingers found her clit, and she gently caressed her way to a quiet orgasm. She had been discreetly quiet, but the intensity of the orgasm left her covered in sweat. Bringing her fingers to her mouth, she sucked at her flavors, bringing her relaxation, and she drifted off to sleep.
When she lay there in bed, she knew what she wanted to draw next time she was on her island.
The rain kept the two boaters home for the next two days.
Finally, the rain broke, and the skies cleared. By seven thirty in the morning, Summer was on the shores of their unnamed island. Bryce had a small fire burning to warm them in the chilly morning air.
They had not seen each other in 72 hours, and you would have thought it was a year. Summer could barely contain herself as she tethered her outboard and ran to Bryce, embracing him tightly and not letting go.
“I missed you. I realized I don’t have your phone number,” Bryce said.
“I’ll give it to you, but if you call, tell whoever answers you are calling from BYU, and it has to do with my meal plan.”
“Wow, okay. Maybe you call me, and you can tell my mom it’s the foxy blond mermaid.”
“Your parents know about me?”
“Sure, they want me to bring you over for lunch. I assume your parents don’t know about me?”
“No, but I will tell them. I’m allowed to have friends. I have plenty of friends who are not Mormon. Well, a few, at least.”
“So, what are we doing today?”
“I want to draw you. I’m tired of still life. I want to draw a person. Would you sit for me?”
report Bryce smiled and helped Summer get her art gear from the boat.
“It would be my honor.”
Summer picked a location on rocks at the edge of a pine forest. It offered both light and shade. Bryce sat still as she sketched away.
It took her less than an hour before showing Bryce the finished work. He was at a loss for words. Her drawings of pine cones, ferns, and rocks were terrific, but this one was outstanding. She seemed to capture his very soul. In the drawing, he looked directly at the artist, his eyes piercing and his face peaceful.
“This is amazing.”
Taking a break from art, the two sailed and found another island covered in blueberry bushes, which they harvested into Bryce’s baseball cap.
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