It lathered up a bit and he scrubbed the armpits of the shirt, he’d put some fine sand in it as well. Sarah said that would help too. It did and it took no time to clean the shirt. She’d come earlier this morning to do her bath and laundry. They were going to main camp later, it had been a little over a week since their last trip in, and the trip to the gorge.
They’d not talked much about Abby and Dan, though he knew it bothered Sarah. It bothered him to an extent, but these were new times they were living in and they had to adapt, there was no choice. They were adapting very well too. They had begun to establish a daily rhythm.
He squeezed out his shirt and started in on his underwear and socks. He didn’t know what he would do once they wore out. The heals of his socks were already getting a little thin. Cheap, everything was cheaply made anymore. Easily replaceable, but no longer. Once the socks were gone, they were gone for good. He thought that perhaps he should start going barefooted, start to toughen up his feet and save his socks.
If it got cold, he’d need his socks. Now his mind was fixed on his socks and he let out a breath. Christ, he needed to get a grip. He laughed at himself. Maybe Sarah could knit him a pair of socks out of grass and he sniggered and thought perhaps he might suggest that to her, just to see the look on her face.
At least cleaning his socks and underwear was faster, and then started on his jeans. Those were a pain in the ass and heavy. But he had to admit that the material would last longer than cargo pants or a lighter material. His thoughts returned to Connor, and he shook his head, the bastard had turned so quickly, had gone primal so fast, well not primal as much as perhaps his true colors came out.
Did anyone ever know someone? His wife had been sad and depressed, but he’d have never guessed in a million years that she would have stabbed him, nearly killing him. He then wondered about Sarah, she was incredibly sweet and caring, smart and intuitive. She was exactly how she was when they’d first met. She’d changed subtly, but they all had, adapting to the new danger and the new situation. Had it only been three weeks since they got off the plane in China? They’d been here a little over two weeks and it was as though life had slowed.
The minutes now ticked by slowly, there were no distractions around, no TV, no movies, no computers, games, smart phones to text and to chat. There were no interruptions in their lives, it was all there, every conscious moment.
Here in this primeval place, there were real feelings, real connections, real conversations. Real emotions, real everything. Every utterance was magnified. Every action purposeful and at times planned out, so as not to waste time. Time had become precious. Time to hunt, time to start a fire, to cook. To wash and to bathe, to make tools and weapons.
Their lives weren’t so busy that they couldn’t relax, because they did. But they also had to make sure that they planned for the future. Nothing was free here, it was gained by muscle and sweat. If you didn’t do it, you didn’t have it.
He stood, shaking out his laundry and hung everything over a bush. Though the pond was a distance from the cave, he and Sarah agreed to do a lot of outside activities away from the cave, in case someone saw them. They wouldn’t want to be near the cave and give away their true location. She was now making a ginger and berry tea for them. She’d bathed first.
They’d been up and practicing since dawn, he had fashioned a spear chucker, the actual spear was seated into it and when he launched the spear, the cradle launcher gave the spear a longer throwing distance and more force behind the throw. He had made Sara a slightly smaller one, so she could better control her aim.
They’d been target practicing for hours and had both become good at it. She’d also woven from long grasses and fronds, a container, a long cylinder or quiver to hold their spears and had also woven a strap to go across their chests. They each only had three spears, since it was difficult to find straight and heavy limbs. They’d used saplings, and those were good, but it took time to find the correct length and balance.
He’d sharpened the spear’s ends into sharp points and had blackened them in the fire and reshaped and sharpened the tips once more. He hoped the fire would harden the tips. Four likely spears had broken and not done very well. It was a learning process, but would give them an advantage over fast game.
He found Sarah at the small fire and she looked up and smiled at him. He grinned back, and studied her face, the weight had fallen away from her, and though her face was thinner, it was very pretty and now a deeper golden color. Her long bright red hair had been pulled back and braided, she’d formed a comb from a prickly plant, its bark covered with nasty two-inch spikes. She’d sanded the spikes down with a rough rock and bled all over by the time it was done. He’d tried the comb out, but because his hair was short, it raked painfully across his scalp. She’d laughed at
