Island of Icarus Read Online Free PDF Page B

were his fresh source of meat and eggs. They had been shipped here at his behest, then encouraged to breed. The ducks, along with three crates of rabbits, were set loose on the island. He kept two cages of common finches at the cabin for his experimentation. “All of this lush greenery, and no mammals,” he said. “Every creature that lives here is a transplant from the mainland. No mammals ever reached here, nor amphibians. None that I have seen.”
    “A fascinating ecology,” I said. “It will be interesting to see how the rabbits have come along.” I surveyed the duck population and nodded appreciably. I would return to record details later—the starting population, the current population, time elapsed.
    True to his word, Marcus found eggs, and we took these back with us. I felt more comfortable this morning with my host. The friendly, academic dialogue did me good. I felt most at home when engaging in scholarly pursuits. Marcus’s intelligence and skill were remarkable, matched only by his humility and honesty when admitting that which he did not know. He showed great interest and attention as I identified plant genera and lapsed into a casual lecture about botanical identification, and he expressed delight when I showed him an edible fruit he’d avoided until then.
    After lunch, I dared to ask him for a tour of more of the island. My ribs were feeling well in spite of our morning walk, and I was eager to test my limits. We spent the afternoon ducking through brush and climbing over rock outcroppings in search of rabbits. It was a damp, exhausting business, but I was flush with the pursuit and with the friendly attention of my companion. We returned to the cabin late in the afternoon. My ribs were tender and my leg smarted, but I was content and we had rabbit meat for supper.
    We did not say much over the meal, but that was just as well, for my mind was busy digesting all of what I had observed that day. Afterward, Marcus kindly provided me with clean paper and a pen, and I disappeared into the room to detail my observations. For a time, I lost myself in the scratch of the pen on paper and the flow of my thoughts onto the page. I wrote until my hand cramped any my eyes grew bleary by the lamplight, and I had only to tumble into to bed to fall blessedly, deeply asleep.

Chapter Nine
    The next morning I woke feeling damnably sore and as stiff as a corpse. I rather smelled like one, too. With no soap or towel or clean clothes to change into, I winced my way out to the bathing lake that Marcus had shown to me. I blundered only briefly in the wan early morning light before I found the sound of running water and followed it to the lake.
    I found a thick fray of ferns to hide behind—silly, on a remote island, but habits die hard—and gratefully removed my sour clothing. I wadded it up, having made the decision to clean it as I bathed.
    I stepped from the privacy of the ferns and cried out loud in alarm. Marcus was sitting in the water less than a dozen feet away, naked torso disappearing into the black water and one arm draped casually over the bank. Surprised, he looked up.
    My arms darted down to cover my nakedness with the ball of clothing. “Pardon me!” I exclaimed, face flushing hot. I began to back away.
    His surprised expression quickly changed. “Don’t be silly!” he said. “Join me. You only startled me.” He slid sideways in the water, making room for me at a bare stretch of the lake’s edge where the foliage had long since been trampled clear.
    It was a simple accident, blundering onto my bathing host and newfound friend. But we were both men, were we not? And he had seen me nude before, for all that I had been unconscious. Yet I was frozen where I stood, afraid to move, for the heat from my face had traveled straight down to my groin. Under the concealing bunch of clothing, my cock stirred.
    Marcus read the dismay on my face as shyness, and he turned his face away with a good-natured laugh.