Back on Solid Ground (7 page)

“That looks
disgusting.  I’d take the bandage off, ” Niki told her.  

Stacy removed
the gauze and exposed the bullet wound.  She touched it gingerly but even the
slightest contact was painful. 

“Want to
check out your handiwork?” she said sarcastically.

“You do know
that we didn’t intend to shoot you, don’t you?” Niki said defensively.

“Well,
someone’s a lousy shot,” she said. 

“That would
be me,” Eli told her.

Stacy pulled
her shirt up a bit further so they could get a good look, and Niki and Eli
moved in closer to examine the wound. 

“That doesn’t
look good,” Niki said. 

“Have you
ever seen a gunshot wound that does?” she shot back.

He ignored
the jab.  “Exactly what did Carlos say about it?” Niki asked.

“I told you. 
He put that smelly green stuff on it and said I’d live.”

“The green stuff
is
medicine?
” he exclaimed.  “I thought it was gangrene or something. 
You’re fine,” he declared, waving off further concern.

Stacy
released her shirt and climbed up the stairs to the dock.  She had hoped to
swim towards the boat shed to get a closer look but her plan had fizzled.  The
only buildings in sight were the house and the boat shed, and she wondered
where the closest village was.  From where she sat, it almost looked like a
deserted island. Stacy decided that she needed to put a plan into action before
they discovered that the gun was missing. 

“I think I
need to get some rest.  I’m really tired,” she said, putting her pants back
on.  “I’m going back to my room.”  She hoped they would let her go by herself.

“Go with her,
Eli,” said Niki.

Stacy walked
ahead, trying to come up with a plan.  Niki had stayed back with Jason, and Eli
was following her, but not closely.  She walked away from the beach, up to the
treeline to see if there was a path in the jungle.  It didn’t appear so.  She
wondered if Niki was serious about the snakes, or if he was just trying to
scare her.  Stacy decided she’d take her chances.   

Stacy and Eli
got back to the house and she took a seat at the kitchen table.  She looked at
the clock; it was almost noon.  Stacy realized that she didn’t even know what
day it was or how long it had been since the bank robbery.   She determined
that Eli would be her target.

“I’m hungry. 
Can I get something to eat before I go back to my cell?” she asked.

Eli smiled. 
“Yeah.  Let’s see what’s in here,” he said, opening the fridge.  He took out a
bowl of potatoes, a chunk of pot roast, and a container of fruit salad.  Stacy
was looking through the liquor cabinet while Eli was heating the roast in the
microwave.  She found a bottle of tequila and brought it to the table.  If she
could dull his senses a bit, it would help.  She knew men like Eli and they
hated to be upstaged by a woman.  If she suggested they do shots, there would
be no way he would refuse. 

“What are you
doing?” he asked.  “Are you an alcoholic?”

“I have no
place to be,” she said matter-of-factly.  She looked through a cabinet,
produced two shot glasses, and filled each with tequila.

“I’m not drinking
that!” said Eli.

“Oh, come
on.  Don’t be scared.”  Stacy smiled and held out a shot glass. 

Eli shook his
head, but he took the drink from Stacy.  He touched the shot glass to hers  and
they both downed them.  Eli made a face and shivered; Stacy didn’t flinch.

“You are an
alcoholic,” he laughed.

Stacy laughed
with him and poured another shot.  They clinked the glasses together again and
both downed it.

“I know what
you’re doing Stacy,” Eli confided, “but I’ll drink with you anyway.”

“What are you
talking about?  I’m not doing anything.  Carlos told me to enjoy myself, so
that’s what I’m doing,” she said, trying to sound innocent. 

“
Indiana
Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark.  
You think you’re Marion,” he said.

Stacy burst
out laughing.  “You’ve seen that, huh?” She refilled the shot glasses and waited
until he drank his, then she put hers down on the table.  The bell rang on the
microwave and as soon as Eli turned around, she looked for a place to pour
hers.

“Don’t even
think of pouring that out somewhere,” he said with his back to her.

Stacy laughed
so hard she snorted.  “I can’t drink any more.  Here, you finish mine,” she
said, pouring hers into Eli’s shot glass. 

Eli brought
their plates to the table and they had just started eating when Carlos came
in.  He looked from Stacy, to Eli, to the bottle of tequila and a broad smile
spread across his face. 

“I see you
decided to take my advice,” Carlos said happily.

Stacy
smiled.  “That’s exactly what I just told Eli.” She turned to Eli, and she
pointed to the shot glass.  “That’s yours.”

Carlos noticed
Stacy’s wet shirt. “You need to keep the wound dry and covered.  I’ll give you
some bandages you can take to your room.”

Stacy
finished her plate of food and took it to the sink.  She rinsed it and put it
in the dishwasher, scoping the place out for anything useful.  She was opening
and closing all the drawers, making a terrible racket.

“
What
are you doing over there?” Eli asked. 

“I’m looking
for a towel,” she lied.  There were several sets of keys in the junk drawer,
and one looked like it was for a boat –  the key ring would float.  She didn’t
see any car keys. 

“Over there,”
Eli said, pointing.

“Here?” she
said, intentionally pulling out the wrong drawer. 
Nothing
. 

“Next one,”
said Eli.

“Who organized
this place?  Why in the world would you keep the towels there?”

Carlos and
Eli looked blankly at each other like it had never crossed their mind. 

“Thanks for
lunch.  I’m going upstairs,” Stacy said, slipping through the door. 

Eli put his
plate in the sink and followed her out of the kitchen.  “I’ll walk you up.”

Stacy managed
the stairs, and Eli stayed there, watching her as she made her way down the
hall to her room.  She turned back before opening the door and smiled and
waved, then went into her room and closed the door.  She counted to five then
opened the door a crack to see where he was going. 
Please go back to your
room
, she willed him.  Eli had passed the stairs and was opening the door
to his living quarters.  Stacy was set to roll.

She’s
definitely up to something
, Eli thought as he sat down on the couch.  He
didn’t have to wonder for long what she was up to.  He hadn’t been sitting for
two minutes when Stacy opened his door and came inside. 

“Hello, Eli,”
she said, smiling. “Do me a favor and turn on your computer.”  Stacy had the
pistol leveled at his head. 

“Shit!” Eli
jumped up in alarm.  “Put the gun down, Stacy.”

“No fucking
way, Eli.  Now go turn on the computer.”

Eli went to
the desk, sat down, and turned on the computer. 

“Get me into
e-mail,” she instructed.

While the
computer was going through its start-up functions, Eli was trying to figure out
how to get the gun away from Stacy without getting shot.  Stacy pulled up a
chair and took a seat.  She was drunk but her hand was steady. 

“Stacy, you
don’t want to do this,” Eli tried to reason with her.

“Actually,
yes, I really do,” she said.  “Paybacks are hell aren’t they, Eli?  I guess
you’re thinking of all the rotten things you said and did to me and you’re
wishing like hell you had been nicer.”

“That pretty
much sums it up,” he agreed. 

“You do get
merits for your drinking effort though, and for busting me on the movie scene,”
she laughed.

“Do me a
favor and don’t laugh while you’re holding a gun to my head.  It might go off
accidentally,” he said, moving the mouse around.

“Guns don’t
just go off, someone has to pull the trigger.  And I’m not going to do that
unless you make me.  I don’t want to kill you, Eli.  I just want to get away
from you,” Stacy said.

“We’re in e-mail,”
he said.

“I’ll
dictate, you type,” Stacy said.  She was trying to think of people’s e-mail
addresses, and she realized she didn’t know many without her contacts.  “We’re
sending it to two people,” she said, and she dictated the addresses. Re:  Stacy
Trent.  Message:  I’m being held by kidnappers on an island,” Stacy stopped. 
“Where are we?”

“In the Mediterranean.”

“The
Mediterranean! 
You brought me to the
Mediterranean
?” she said, bordering on
hysteria.  “
Where
in the Mediterranean?”

“I don’t really
know, I’m not good at geography,” he said lamely.

She went back
to dictating, “on an island in the Mediterranean,” and then she added, “or
possibly the Caribbean.”

Eli turned
and looked at her and Stacy shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t trust you.  Turn
around,” she motioned with the pistol.  “Have the authorities trace this
e-mail.  Love Stacy.” 

She read what
he had typed over his shoulder.  “Send it,” she directed.

Eli clicked
the send button and the message disappeared from the screen. 

“Okay, let’s
see,” Stacy said, thinking aloud.  “I need some shoes.  And by the way, how did
I end up with no shoes?”

“I don’t
know.  They probably got left on the plane,” he guessed. 

“Let’s go
check out your closet.”  Stacy motioned with the gun for Eli to lead the way. 
“Don’t try anything stupid, okay Eli.  I really don’t want to have to shoot
you, but I will if you fuck with me.  You understand that, right?”

“I have no
intention of fucking with you, Stacy.  Just don’t walk with your finger on the
trigger.” 

“I already
told you that if I shoot you, it’s not going to be by accident.”

They walked
down the hall into the bedroom and Eli opened his closet doors.  “They’re all
going to be huge on you,” he said.  “You’re going to trip and put a bullet in
my back!”  

“Well, I
can’t go barefoot, so unless you have a better idea?” she said, waiting for
suggestions.

“Consuela’s
shoes would probably fit you,” he said.

 
“Who’s
Consuela, and where do we find her shoes?”

“The
housekeeper; on the lower level,” he said.

“Lead the
way.  And Eli” she said, “be discreet.”

They left
Eli’s room and went down to the first floor, then Eli led the way to another
set of stairs that went to the lower level.  Stacy hadn’t even realized that
there was a lower level.  They walked down the hall to the last room and Eli
knocked on the door. 

“Don’t try
anything stupid,” she said, pressing the gun up against his back.

A small woman
answered the door. “Eli!” she said, giving him a hug.  “Como estas?”

Eli picked
Consuela up off her feet and hugged her, then he put her back down and pointed
to Stacy’s feet.  “Necessita zapatos.”

Consuela
looked down at Stacy’s bare feet.  “Si, si,” she said, disappearing into her
room.  She returned with a pair of huaraches, and smiled, offering them to
Stacy.  

Eli took the
shoes.  “Gracias, Consuela.  Adios,” he said, smiling.

“Adios,” she
said, closing her door.

“Oh, they’re
perfect!” Stacy said, putting the shoes on her feet.  “I used to have some like
these.”

Stacy stepped
around Eli so she could see his face. “You are such a liar,” she said.  “The
Mediterranean
. 
I ought to shoot you right now.”  She shouldn’t have done the
tequila shots; she was having a hard time keeping a straight face.  Stacy
looked around.  “Where’s the closest exit?”

“Right
there,” Eli said, pointing to a door down the hall. 

It sucked not
knowing her way around.  Stacy could have kicked herself for not planning
better. “Where does it come out?” she asked, then added, “and if you lie to me
again I’m going to be
really
pissed.”

“The back of
the house.”

“In plain
view?” she asked.

“Well, if
someone happens to be looking out a window, yeah, it’s in plain view,” Eli
said.

“You’re going
to take me to the boat dock through the jungle,” Stacy instructed. 

“The jungle? 
Why do you want to go through the jungle?  You want to get snake bit?”

“Because we
are less likely to be seen,” she said.  “Now let’s go.”

The door
opened into a steep outdoor brick stairwell that ascended into a courtyard at
the back of the house.  Eli considered running when he got to the top knowing
that Stacy wouldn’t be able to catch him, but he didn’t know how good a shot
she was.  She certainly seemed comfortable with a pistol in her hand, and
although it occurred to him that her confidence could stem from the alcohol, he
didn’t think so.  He decided to wait for a better chance.

They walked
along the back of the house and headed off into the jungle. There were masses
of tangled vines hanging from the canopy of trees and Stacy realized the place
would definitely be a haven for snakes.  They had walked several hundred feet
deep into the jungle, but Stacy kept imagining snakes intertwined with the
twisted vines hanging right above her head and it was giving her the creeps.

“Wait,” she
said, and Eli stopped.  “Go left and head to the beach.”

At least
she’s not an idiot
, Eli thought.  He changed course, stepping over a small
tree stump.  “Watch the stump,” he advised.  “You don’t have your finger on the
trigger, do you?”

“I won’t
shoot you by accident,” she repeated in a singsong voice.

They
continued walking, Eli whacking his way through the thick brush as best he
could.

“Do you know
how to use that thing?” he asked.