"I do have a talent for getting into strange situations," I admitted.

"I can see that!" Cakey replied, shaking the bars of my cage. "But don't worry. In the morning, as soon as the three of us are awake, I'm busting you guys out."

Boogers brought us dinner. She smiled at me, but didn't talk.

Cakey came to take the dirty dishes away.

"Hey, girls," she called as she sauntered into the cave. "How're you feeling, Marcie?"

"I'm getting there," I replied, as I scanned her face to search out her feelings.

"Good," she said. "Tomorrow morning I'm going to bust you guys out of there. Most of the girls are sleeping outside tonight. It's beautiful out, and — no offense — but I think they want to avoid you... a little."

I nodded, but didn't answer.

Cakey gripped the pantry's bars with both hands, and her look became stern. She said, "Marcie, I've gone over and over in my mind what I have to say to you." She looked me in the face. "The only way to say it is to come out straight and say it: You should have told somebody. If you and Wiggy were going to take off in that boat, you should have told somebody."

I swallowed hard.

She went on. "Do you know which direction she went?"

"No."

"Do you know how far this other island is supposed to be, or how long it would take to get there?"

"No. She wouldn't tell me. She said I'd second-guess her and make it harder."

"Yeah, she said the same thing in her stupid note. She was afraid we'd stop her." Cakey suddenly sniffed and kicked the bars violently. Belle and I jumped.

"She was right! We WOULD have stopped her! I would have cut that that stupid dory to pieces if I knew!"

I had a question, but was almost afraid to ask, Cakey was so angry and upset. Gently, tentatively, I said, "Cakey? Did anybody see which way she went?"

"We couldn't. I ran to the top of the hill and saw her go right, around to the back of the island. By the time I got to that side, I couldn't see her at all."

I must have looked as confused as I felt, because Cakey explained, "There isn't any place on the island high enough to look in every direction. We tried... *I* tried... but there are some parts of the coast where you can't see the ocean at all." She gestured to her right, saying, "If she went that way — and I think she did — we wouldn't be able to see her at all."

I shook my head. "When we talked about the other island, I asked her why I hadn't seen it. Said it was hard to see, even when you knew where to look."

"She didn't tell you where it was? Not even a hint? Did she at least point vaguely in some direction?"

"No," I said. "She didn't want me to know anything."

Cakey regarded me in silence. Then she said, "Marcie, I hope you know I'm your friend. But you also need to know that all of us are angry and upset about Wiggy, and it's hard to not blame you."

"I know," I said. I felt miserable. There was nothing I could say. Or was there? There was only one fact that mitigated my guilt in any way. I felt abject and craven saying it, but I told her, "Listen, Cakey. Wiggy knew about me... she knew my secret." I gestured vaguely toward my lap. "She found out on the plane because of a stupid note my mother left me."

"Oh, the one in the book?" Belle asked.

"Yeah," I said. "We were roommates because both of us wanted the same kind of privacy. Anyway... the thing is, when Wiggy told me her plan to leave, she threatened me. She said that if I told anyone about her plan, she'd tell everyone about me."

Cakey took it in silently, thinking. She nodded, and said, "I'll tell Mirina. I don't think it'll make any difference, though. Oh, did Mirina tell you her dream? The one about the boy on the island? Now she figures the dream was about you. She's saying that you don't belong here, and she's got a long list of what-ifs: what if Romy had come... what if somebody else had come... what if nobody had come in her place."

She swallowed hard. After a pause she said in a low voice, "In spite of all that, I think everybody knows that Wiggy would have taken off even if you weren't here at all."

I was trying not to cry, but tears rolled slowly down my cheeks. I wiped them with the back of my hand and sniffed.

Cakey went on. "About you... and your... your... the way you are... I think everybody has to get to know you again, you know what I mean? Up till now, everybody liked you. Now, they're hurt and shocked and scared... scared for Wiggy. Afraid she's... dead."

Belle quickly turned away and looked at the floor. Her hair fell around her face, hiding it, but I could see her tears dropping to the floor. Cakey and I turned a deathly pale.

"I think they're trying not to blame you, but it's hard. You're going to have to walk through the fire for a bit." When I looked up, shocked, she realized how it sounded. "I don't mean that literally. I mean, think about it. If she's dead, and you knew and could have stopped her... You're going to catch all kinds of hell, Marcie." She sniffed and gave me a tight-lipped, flat, attempt at a smile. "About the other thing... they just have to get over it... get used to... the new you. But with Wiggy gone, it hardly matters anyway."

Belle looked up. Her face was wet. "What are the girls saying about Marcie?"

"Mostly it's Mirina talking," Cakey said. "At first she just flipped out. She couldn't even touch you. Now, she's moved from there to being really, really pissed. She says that you deceived us... you deceived her, and she wouldn't have invited you on the trip if she knew who you really were."

"Oh God," I said, ruefully. Cakey gripped the bars, white knuckled, for a moment.

"Graffy and Grooty are sulking about it. They're really bugged. I think they have a *big* problem with it. The rest of the girls are okay, I guess. Knickers is just floored." In spite of everything, Cakey laughed. "She can't believe it. She's never heard of transsexuals before, and it's just impossible to her. The idea is crazy to her. It's like, you can't exist. She can't get her head around it. I think she believes that you're really just a girl and it's all some kind of weird mistake. But she likes you."

She sucked her lower lip for a moment, and added, "Oh, Donkey for some reason, thinks it's great. She says you're a hero and very brave, and stuff like that. Go figure."

She shrugged and managed a weak smile. "It's kind of like you farted in an elevator, you know? Nobody can pretend it didn't happen or that it wasn't you..." She paused. "That's not really a good example. There probably isn't one."

"I appreciate your telling me all that," I said.

"Hey, I'm your friend. I was pretty surprised, but I'm still your friend." A smile played around her lips. "I do have a mental picture of you that I'll never get out of my head." She grinned and shook her head. "Who knew, when we were shipwrecked, that anything like this would happen!" She laughed at her own joke, and even I smiled a little.

"I do have a talent for getting into strange situations," I admitted.

"I can see that!" Cakey replied, shaking the bars of my cage. "But don't worry. In the morning, as soon as the three of us are awake, I'm busting you guys out."
 

After the talk with Cakey, I felt better and worse. It was good to know that she was on my side. She and Belle and Donkey. At least I wouldn't be totally alone.

But Wiggy... oh, God! If there was ever a time to pray, it was now.

After Cakey left, Belle rehashed the whole conversation three times, trying to look at each statement from every possible angle. If I hadn't been so ill and so emotionally drained, I would have asked her politely to stop talking. But I didn't. Instead, I lay back and stopped listening to the words. I let the flow of her babetty babetty chatter flow through my ears without stopping at my brain. The sound wasn't exactly soothing, but somehow it kept the fear and the terror away for a while. It felt like a lifeline, like a radio from the mainland — something to hang onto when nothing else was there.

For a long time Belle babbled on and on, and I listened without listening. She didn't ask me questions or check that I was paying attention. She didn't look for any response or reaction from me. Maybe this was how she dealt with her nerves, her fear, her sense of loss.

As she spoke, I thought about home, about Mom and Dad. They had to know by now that we were missing. They must be frantic, I thought. They tend to worry about me even when nothing is happening, and now something really *is* happening. And yet I knew that somehow I'd get out... we'd get out, and all would be okay.

After a while, I realized that Belle had finished talking. I looked up at her and she looked down at me. It suddenly occurred to me to ask, "Where have you been sleeping while you've been stuck in here with me?"

"On the floor," she said. "I laid down a bunch of blankets and slept on top. Cakey tried to fold up one of the beds, but it wouldn't fit through the bars." Her eyes were drooping, her shoulders were slumped. She suddenly looked very tired.

"Listen, Belle, I'm awake now, and I think I'll be awake a long time. Let me give you the bed. I can bundle up on the floor. I don't think I can sleep any more."

"No," she said. "It's actually pretty comfortable. I like sleeping on the floor. Sometimes I do it at home. It drives my mother crazy."

I tried to insist, but she wouldn't give in.

"Besides, Marcie," she said, "you've been sweating like crazy on that bed, and no offense, but..."

"Okay, I get it," I said.

She changed into her pajamas, arranged her blankets, and blew out all the candles but one. She placed that one on top of the water barrel, behind a box, so it didn't give so much light. Then she lay down, turned on her side, and soon she was asleep, leaving me alone with myself.

Good God! I told myself. What a trip this had turned into! It was supposed to be a vacation. I was supposed get away from the reporters, away from the pressure, to somehow soften the effects of my trauma...

Tomorrow would be Friday, exactly four weeks since I was abducted. In my mind's eye I saw the scene again: me talking on my cell phone with Maisie... hands grabbing me from behind... Ida's terrified face as the van door closed. I shut my eyes and felt the world slip away, leaving me in a place of cold, dark terror.

I'd come on this trip to get away from all that, and now I find myself again a prisoner, peeing in a can in a corner. At least this time I have company, I told myself, opening my eyes to listen to Belle's soft breathing. As I listened, I had to smile. My sister. Belle really was like a sister to me.

© 2008 by Kaleigh Way

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