"Duncan, look up at that!" Rachel stood up in the life raft, causing it to rock precariously in the calm waters. She was pointing at the only thing on the horizon that wasn't more blue ocean, a barely visible gray something in the distance.
"Rachel, I told you, I left my glasses in the cabin, I can't see a thing. Rachel sighed in exasperation.
"Just row you dummy, I think I see land."
"Why don't you help, if you're in so sure."
"Fine, give me the oar then" Gladly, Duncan passed the white plastic thing to her and moved to the back of the raft, exhausted. She took the oar and, stil facing him, began to pull them toward the grey mass in the distance. Looking into the bag of supplies he pulled out an orange and began peeling it. The passenger ship they'd been on had seemed to have reasonable safety procedures for handling any situation that might arise, but seaplane pirates had not been expected by anyone. The two friends had managed to sneak into a lounge, inflate their raft and pack the food meant for their parents' dentistry conference into Duncan's gym bag. From there they had found a back hatch which lead to the life boats and rowed away in the night. The pirates evidently didn't keep good watch over their hostages, or they simply didn't care about an eighteen and nineteen year old boy and girl when their rich parents were safely under watch.
As they neared the island they could see the ocean floor through the unusually clear and calm water near the beach head. The rocks were covered in white barnacles and between them lay hundreds of clam shells. To Duncan all of it blurred together. All he could see clearly was the raft, the orange and Rachel. They had been friends since grammar school. Even after she went away to an all girls' college in America they stayed in touch. As he finished peeling the orange, he split it and offered one half to Rachel. She shook her head, still focused on the task of rowing. He tried not to stare at her but it was impossible. Her auburn hair framed a flawless face with rounded cheeks, pale skin, and brown eyes now narrowed in concentration.
"Are we almost there?" Rachel asked breathlessly. He nodded.
"I can see the beach head, I think we can get out and wade to it soon."
"Better not," she said, "We need to get the boat onto the land."
"Well I'll get out and pull it." As he said this, he unzipped his grey slacks.
"What are you doing?" Rachel had put the oar down and was not staring at Duncan.
"I don't have a change of pants and I don't fancy being wet all day. Look the other way." But instead, she took up the oar and began rowing again, not taking her eyes off his blue striped boxers. "What are you looking at, anyway?" She stifled a giggle. She had never thought of Duncan as anything but a close friend, but looking at him now she saw the well toned muscle in his calves. He's not bad looking all around, she thought. Duncan leaned over the side of the raft and lowered his feet into the water. His bare feet found purchase on a barnacled rock and he stood up, the water coming little higher than his knees. Holding the rope which encircled the raft he climbed from rock to rock, pulling the raft and Rachel toward the shore. She stopped rowing.
Soon they reached the shore. Rachel climbed out of the raft and helped Duncan lift it onto the beach. They dragged it along until they were confident it was above the highest tide line, then collapsed back onto it, panting.
"I suppose we'd better put up a shelter," Rachel said. Duncan set about pulling out the tent kit from their bags. He soon had the tent assembled, and was hammering in the pegs. Rachel stood by him, trying to be helpful. She found that he had everything under control, and wandered off to look for food.
The beach stretched out as far as Rachel could see in either direction, but it didn't extend particularly far inland. Soon she was clambering through underbrush in what looked to be a thick jungle. She soon came upon a bush which she recognized from one of the nature books she had read in preparation for her family's tropical vacation. Its berries were edible, and she set about gathering them, holding the front of her blouse out to make a pouch.
Once she could carry no more, she set out back to the camp Duncan had set up. The sun was setting over the ocean as she emerged onto the beach. Duncan was sitting on a log in front of the tent, assembling fuel for a fire. He struck a match from their supplies and soon had a pile of dry leaves lit under some medium sized sticks and a large branch. After this had caught fire, he threw on a decent sized log. Rachel dumped the berries she was carrying into a spare sheet and sat down next to Duncan. They sat for a while watching the sun set. Rachel felt herself dosing off and leaned back on a rock behind her.
The wind had picked up over the rocks and the waves swelled against the natural wall. Duncan looked up to see Rachel standing at the top of the sea cliff, facing toward him with her eyes still closed. He called out to her but received no response. As he ran toward her, he saw her step slowly backwards towards the edge. When she reached it, she stopped and began untying the laces of her white dress. Finally she pulled it over her head and threw it behind her without looking where it fell.
Standing now just feet from him in only underthings, Rachel took one last step back and made as if to jump into the shallow water below. Duncan, without thinking, grabbed at her arms. He gripped her right elbow and left wrist, pulling against what felt like her full weight. After a breif struggle, he was able to get both her feet upright on the edge. For a moment, she stood there on the cliff in the cold wind. Finally, her eyes opened and she shrieked. She attempted to pull her arms away from him but found she couldn't without teetering closer to the edge of the cliff.
"What are you doing? Let go of me!" Duncan gave one last pull and complied, letting her fall forward onto the grass a few meters from the rocky embankment. "How the hell did you get me up here? Where are my clothes?"
"I didn't get you up here, I found you here. You were about to jump."
"Oh dear, I thought I'd grown out of it."
"Grown out of what?" Duncan scratched his head.
"I used to sleep walk when I was a girl. But I thought it was all over with." She looked at him timidly. "It must be this island we're on. I suppose I should thank you."
"Don't mention it," Duncan replied, blushing, "Only... try not to do it again. I dunno if I'll be able to catch you a second time."
"It's not as if I was trying to do it the first time." She looked at him, worried. "How do you suppose I can stop it?"
Duncan caught her gaze and thought for a moment, then said, "Well how did you stop before?"
"Before when?" Rachel was sitting up in the grass now. She felt cold
"You know, when you were younger. You said you grew out of it. What did you used to do before that?"
