Cretaceous Sea

'I was unaware those were such magic words,' replied Con with a sarcastic edge. Joe didn't rise to the provocation. His voice remained calm. 'It's not the words that count. You count.' When Con didn't reply, Joe turned on his flashlight and began to rummage through the disordered supplies. 'Let's see if we have anything that goes with dinosaur meat.' Joe looked through their hastily collected foodstuffs. He reflected that if Pandit had been a worse cook, their supplies would have been more ample. Pandit, who be-lieved in fresh ingredients, eschewed plastic food pouches. The only one they had contained peaches. He put it aside along with another item and brought out a box of crackers. 'This should cheer us up,' he said with-out irony. The crackers, accompanied by the charred dinosaur and the last of the bottled water, served for their meal. Joe kept his light on so they could see as they ate, though it lacked the festive quality of a campfire. The crackers were limp, and the meat already smelled faintly of decay. Despite that, Con ate heartily. As Joe had hoped, the food lifted Con's spirits some-what. Still, she found her surroundings dismal. The sloped floor of the plane required them to use their clothes and other supplies to make a level surface to sit or lie upon. As a result, their trampled 'floor' was as-suming the character of a rat's nest. The last cloth gar-ments they would ever own were damp and stained with mud and soot. Con's companions were even more dirty and disheveled. Judging from the way Rick and Joe looked, Con was glad she didn't have a mirror. She re-solved that if clean rain ever fell, she would take a shower in it. Joe turned off the flashlight when they finished eating. No conversation followed in the dark as the rain contin-ued to fall steadily and heavily. They were all tired, and the oblivion of sleep seemed particularly inviting. One by one, Rick, Joe, and Con found its refuge.

CON AWOKE IN the timeless dark. It was still raining hard. She had no idea how long she had slept, but she felt rested. Her spirits were improved also. Joe's right.

she thought, / need to maintain a positive attitude. She grabbed a flashlight, then tiptoed to the front of the plane. The meat was stored there. The sweet odor she had de-tected at the last meal was stronger now. Nevertheless, her stomach grumbled. / won't eat until the others do, regardless of what Joe said. Ignoring her hunger, she placed her flashlight close to the transparent fuselage and turned it on. Its beam illuminated the rain running down the plane's skin. It was clear. She turned out the light and sat down in a seat.

Joe whispered in the dark, 'What's up, Con?'

'I was checking the rain. It's clean now. I thought I might take a shower in it.'

'That sounds like a good idea,' said Rick.

'Let Con go first,' said Joe. 'The showers are defi-nitely not coed.'

'I wasn't suggesting ...' began Rick sheepishly.

'Glad to hear it,' said Joe.

The darkness gave Con privacy to undress before she left the plane. She exited into the downpour. Her first impression was how strange it was to be unable to see. She remained within touching distance of the plane, for touch was her only guide in the perfect darkness. It told her that she was standing in water over her ankles and the hard-baked ground had dissolved into mud. The rain felt pleasantly cool against her skin. It fell with stimu-lating force. She lifted her head back and let the heavy drops massage her face. Opening her mouth, she drank. The rain had a slightly sour taste.

Con used her hands to try to scrub herself clean. What I wouldn't give for a bar of soap and some shampoo. When she was grabbing things for their escape from the island, it never occurred to her to take some. 1 just always took them for granted. Objecting to their perfume seemed idiotic to her now. Perhaps I can figure out how to make some at our new home.

Someone turned on a flashlight inside the plane and light spilled into the darkness. Con whirled quickly to see if anyone was watching her. No one was. Once she determined that, she turned her attention to the newly illuminated landscape. As far as she could see, there was water. It gave the impression she was standing in a shal-low lake, except that a lake had no current. All the debris that floated upon the water was moving slowly in one direction. Con realized she was standing in the river. The light went out, returning Con to the dark. As she tried to wash her back, she thought of Rick. His strong, rough hands would make quick work of the task. She found the idea of him touching her like that pleasantly exciting. Joe would object, she thought. It occurred to her that her own father would object only because Rick was the help. He'd have no qualms about someone like Peter Green doing it. Con shuddered; the mere idea was repulsive.

Con finished washing, entered the dark plane, and dressed. Joe and Rick took their turns getting clean. She thought briefly of shining her flashlight on Rick as-a joke, but when she imagined Joe's reaction, she decided it was a bad idea. After Rick and Joe returned and dressed, Con turned on a flashlight. Everyone's clean faces and bodies marked an encouraging resurgence of civilization. Con's hunger reasserted itself. 'We should probably eat that meat before it spoils more,' she said.

'I don't think so,' said Joe gravely. He went to the rearmost part of the plane and retrieved a flat object wrapped in a fairly clean shirt. 'Not on your birthday!'

Joe whisked off the shirt to reveal the half-baked cake, covered with peaches, as he and Rick sang

'Happy Birth-day.' Con looked stunned for moment, then hugged both Joe and Rick.

'Rick told me that today's your birthday, assuming it is day.' Con didn't know whether she was going to laugh or cry. She felt like doing both. 'I... I don't know what to say.'

'Say,' said Joe, 'that it's the happiest day of your life.' 25