Chapter 5

Mike was on the raft paddling to one of his favorite spots. He heard a funny buzzing sound. He scanned the sky and saw it, a plane. Joyously, he started waving wildly, shouting even though there was no chance they could hear him. The plane continued towards their island.

Inside the cockpit, the co-pilot was scanning the island not looking for anything in particular. This island wasn't even on their charts. He saw the orange spot first, a color not usual in nature. "Hey Jock. Get closer. I think there is something in that lagoon."

The pilot banked and dropped down. As they flew closer they could both see it was a raft with a man waving wildly. The pilots looked at each other. They didn't see a yacht or a boat that the raft could have come from. They followed the coast for a bit and saw the tail of the plane sticking straight up in the air. The middle section had slid off leaving the tail sticking straight up.

"Didn't a plane go down a few months ago?"

"Yeah. Turn around."

The pilot banked, dropped a little lower and headed back.

Mike fell back into his raft as the plane went by. Had they missed him? No, it couldn't be. So close ... He started to cry. Then he heard the buzz again getting closer. This time as the plane went by the pilot waggling his wings, the universal sign that he had been seen. Mike's emotions soared even as the plane climbed off into the tropical air.

"That's got to be the plane that went down," the co-pilot said. "I've got the GPS for the island and for him," he said, jotting down the exact coordinates.

"Should we call ahead?"

"They wouldn't believe us anyways. Let's get going." The pilot added power and climbed back on course. "I wonder if he's the only survivor."

"We'll know soon enough."

Mike paddled back to the camp. He screamed as he ran up the beach. The girls came running. A plane, a plane was all they could get from Mike. Finally he was able to tell them a coherent story. 'Would they be rescued?' was all they could talk of.

Two hours later, a French naval plane took off and headed for a set of coordinates. The crew wondered if this was a wild goose chase. They saw the island on radar first, right where it should be. It was listed on their chart as a reef. But they could see it was larger than that.

Mike and the girls heard the deeper rumble-buzz of the four engine plane. They ran out onto the beach. As it drew near they all waved frantically.

"On the beach, there."

"I see them." He went over just a few hundred feet high.

"Four people, three women I would say." They'll need a coaster to get close. That reef looks dangerous "They looked healthy." The pilot nodded. They continued around the island but saw nothing else. As they came back around the four people were still on the beach. The pilot waggled his wings and turned towards home. "Call it in..." The French Navy coaster put to sea an hour later. They would reach the island the next day.

The four souls watched the plane disappear. "They're leaving," Emma said.

"They saw us. They'll have to send a boat. Probably tomorrow," Mike said. "I bet it's too far for a helicopter."

"Tomorrow. We'll be rescued tomorrow," Darcie said.

The girls broke into chants of, "We're rescued!"

Mike was looking at the girls with swelling bellies. He'd have some explaining to do. He considered if he should go running off into the jungle. Obviously the cops weren't going to be happy.

That night they sat around a roaring fire, why save wood, and talked. Jenna brought out their clothes that she had saved. It wasn't much, panties and bras and Dockers and a shirt for Mike.

The next day they finished off the food they had collected. There was no point in saving or even gathering more. They all watched the sea. Emma spotted it first; a dot on the sea. As it grew larger, they went down to the beach. Their mood was surprising subdued. Maybe they didn't really believe they would be rescued. Maybe they weren't sure they wanted to be rescued.

The boat pulled in close to the reef. They unloaded a motorized raft which trolled along the reef until they found the passage that Mike had used some much for fishing. The rubber motorized boat screamed across the lagoon barely touching the water. The French seaman jumped out as the girls ran down. They made a scraggly looking sight, having had no combs, no razors, and no mirrors for months. Mike looked back at the camp before he walked down the beach to the raft. He was losing paradise.

The French lieutenant in charge of the boat wasn't pleased when he realized he had three pregnant teens and one man. Had he irons on his ship, he would have clapped Mike in them. Instead, he had the ship's doctor examine them all. The doctor pronounced them healthy, at least until he could get a doctor who spoke English to look at them, and he confirmed the girls were all pregnant. As he didn't speak English and the passengers didn't speak French, conversation was limited. He did supply the girls extra shirts and pants to wear.

After the girls were taken below, Mike stayed topside as the French cutter cruised down the lagoon. Mike saw the plane come into view, that is, the tail sticking straight up. The cruiser anchored and dispatched the rubber boat this time with divers. He watched wondering what they were looking for. He found out when they returned with two thick plastic bags.

As the divers brought the bags aboard Mike heard one say, "Ils ont seulmente quelques os." That made sense. The fish and crabs would quickly have turned the pilots into meals and left nothing behind except the os. At least the pilots would be returned to their families.

Mike didn't bother to mention Roxanne. She had a beautiful place all her own looking out over a tropical paradise. What better place to rest.

Food was especially popular since it was something other than fish and coconuts. "I don't want to ever see another coconut," Darcie proclaimed.

"Or fish!" Emma said as she chomped into some fried chicken. The crew laughed as the girls gnawed the chicken bones clean.

They were met at the dock by the French Magistrate, a Monsieur LeGrande. He was not happy with Mike and his face conveyed his displeasure quite distinctly to Mike. Mike was beginning to think he should have stayed behind. On the third day they were taken in front of the Magistrate. "At first, I intended to have you locked up for life," he said to Mike.

The girls all cried out, "No!"

M. LeGrande raised his hand. "But, the island turns out to not be under French control. In fact, no one appears to claim it, so your crimes cannot be punished by me. I have no jurisdiction, nor, does it seem, anyone else."

Jenna smiled, "Good!"

He looked like he was sucking a lemon, "As for you girls. We have contacted your government. It appears your parents left you quite well off. They both had large insurance policies and your father had stock in his company. After he went missing, they sold the company publicly for a large sum. You girls are rich. I can send you back to the United States."

"What about Mike?" Darcie asked.

"I suspect that would create some trouble..."

"I don't want to go without Mike. He's the father of our children. He's my husband," Emma said.

"Husband?" M. LeGrande asked.

"We considered that we were married once we realized we might never be rescued," Mike said.

"Well, you can't marry three anyway," M. LeGrande said, clearly flustered by this bizarre hearing.

"How about Brunei?" Mike asked.

"Brunei?" M. LeGrande asked. Mike might as well have asked about Oz.

"It's Muslim. They allow multiple marriages. What's the age of consent?" Mike asked.

M. LeGrande motioned to his assistant who was checking the computer then buried his face in his hands. The girls and Mike distinctly heard mumbling issuing from behind those hands...

"Thirteen," the clerk at the computer said.

"I'm thirteen," Emma said.

"Fourteen," Darcie echoed.

"Sixteen," Jenna said.

M. LeGrande raised his head. "Mesdemoiselles, are you sure you want to do this?" M. LeGrande asked.

They all nodded forcefully.

M. LeGrande said something in French, then in English, "On your heads be it. You can be on the next plane to Brunei. Here are your passports. They were sent over from the consulate once we told them we had found you alive."