Red Sand by Ronan Cray Page B

rack of lamb, barbecued to perfection. The delicious smell overwhelmed them.
    “Please eat your fill and regain your strength. Survival is not for the weak or the hungry.”
    His words were drowned out as the survivors lunged toward the plates. They slurped the meat off the bones.
    “What is this?” Lauren asked, snapping open a rib and sucking the marrow.
    “Who cares!” Emily said. “It’s delicious!”
    “Lamb, I think,” replied Carter. “They must have sheep on the island.”
    When the plates were nearly exhausted and a soporific silence settled on the table, Tuk stood up again. “I know it’s hard to recognize right now, but you're having an adventure.” Lauren glanced at Mason, who smiled as if vindicated. Tuk continued, “As bad as it may seem now, you will look back some day as if these were the best days of your lives. Back home, you have only boredom to look forward to. Others will beg you to tell this story to relieve their own boredom - first the media, for people you don't know, then the strangers in your home town, and then a smaller and smaller number of people who care less and less about you. One day, as you approach old age, and this becomes the only story you tell others, you will realize that this moment," he pounded his fist on the table, “THIS moment, was the only moment you were ever truly alive. Enjoy it, my friends! It is a gift!
    The table fell into a contemplative silence. Lauren watched Mason stand up. “Mr. Tuk, thank you for your kindness. The food and drink are wonderful, and your hospitality is appreciated. You mentioned you rescued eighteen people, but there are only seventeen of us here. Our friend Howie is missing. Would you please help us find him?”
    One of the men against the wall muttered, “That was fast.”
    Lauren had been so absorbed in self-preservation that she had ignored her promise to watch after her other boat mates. She hadn’t even noticed that Howard was missing, which, in retrospect, should have been obvious at a dinner table.
    Tuk answered, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t take roll call. I’ll send my men to look for him.” He waved two men out of the room immediately.
    Mason made as if to go with them. Tuk stopped him, “No, please. My men will look for your friend. You will be of more help to him when you are rested and well fed. If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”
    “I want to be sure Max is okay.”
    “Certainly he is. We have a medical man on the island who is looking at him now. So, please, don’t worry. Enjoy your meal.”
    Lauren couldn’t help but think this was the best meal of her life. She’d never tasted vegetables so fresh. The water felt like drinking mountain air.  The ribs were divine. It was a much more tender meat than she’d tasted before. She guessed it was goat, not mutton.
    Tuk spoke loudly, smiling, giving the servers a moment to retreat:
“We have been here six years,” he began, which immediately elicited a horrified gasp from the survivors. Would they be here so long? “By choice, I should add. Like you, our ship foundered and left us here, stranded, on this island. While the first few months were difficult, we decided to stay, to cut our ties with home and remain in this place for the rest of our lives. That may seem strange to you, now, but we’ve carved out an original life for ourselves on this rock.  A life without masters, without bills, without rules but those of our own making, an only two of those, as I have explained.
    “Why? I’m sure you’re thinking that very question. Ships pass by this island regularly. Why would we choose to forego rescue in favor of these…. primitive conditions?
    “By way of explanation, let me tell you a story. There was an executive on vacation in Mexico at a resort by a small fishing village. One morning, he happened across one of the local fisherman coming back from the sea. He asked the man, ‘How long do you work each day?’ The man