LAND OF THE GIANTS
“Storm”
It was a quiet day in the Spindrift camp. Unusually quiet for there were only two people present, the other five absentees having gone into town hours before on a food searching mission.
With his jacket slung casually over the cockpit chair, Captain Steve Burton lay under the main control board, scrutinizing hundreds of tiny wires that snaked their way through the metal walls of his disabled ship. Wires that had to be individually checked for burnout, looseness, and everything else under the sun. A tedious chore for which Steve had this time drawn the short straw.
Emitting a heavy sigh, Steve rolled up his sleeves and pulled down the first wire.
Meanwhile, across the brief hallway in the cabin, stewardess Betty Hamilton struggled with a “wire” of her own. Since what few needles they used to have had broken after more than two years of strenuous use, Mark Wilson, Spindrift’s resident genius and all-round repairman, as a last resort, had managed to thin a crude yet slender piece of metal into a useable needle. Despite Mark’s best efforts, he could only scrape the wire so much before it too would break. Still thicker than what she preferred, Betty accepted that it was better than nothing as she began to sew copilot Dan Erickson’s uniform jacket. This being his last one, she was extra careful not to tear the surrounding threads in the process.
Although the tasks were monotonous, Betty and Steve, nevertheless, savored these rare moments alone because ever since landing on the planet of giants, privacy of any kind had become only a faded memory.
Hearing footfalls in the corridor, Steve glanced up to see who it was, and laughed at himself for there was only one person it could have been.
Leaning against the hatch jamb, Betty held up the acorn bucket, letting it dangle off her index finger. “Dishes need to be done and I’m out of water,” she told him, with bored indifference.
“You want an escort?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the blue wire, following it through to its end.
“Nah,” she shook her head. “I can find the place in my sleep, and there haven’t been any giants near us lately to worry about.”
“Just be careful, okay?” he urged, his attention now on the orange wire.
“Aren’t I always?” Betty scorned lightly, disappearing from view.
Steve again laughed for it was a stupid thing to have said to Betty. She and Dan were the two in the group whom he usually didn’t have to worry about. Not wanting to think about how many times each of them had been captured, the handsome pilot returned his concentration to the orange cable.
So far, all the wires had been in good condition, much to Steve’s annoyance for just one of those circuits had prevented them from activating the exterior lights. Not a priority, yet still important for times of emergency, times which occurred daily on this planet.
Targeting the next colored wire, Steve was in the mist of
tracing it when the shrill beep of an alarm sounded overhead. Springing to his feet, it was what he
had feared. The radarscope. Giants were approaching, and they were
heading for the same pond Betty was on her way to.
And possibly already there, he thought fearfully, glancing at his watch.
Rushing to engineering where the radios were kept on constant recharge, Steve quickly counted. They were all there except two; the two Dan and Mark had taken. With no way to warn the flight attendant, Steve did the only thing he could—took off at a dead run for the watering hole.
The pond was huge to the little people, yet relatively small for giants, being only big enough for three young children to play in. It had been created four months ago when an excavation company had come exploring for some unknown element-or-other, and an entire box of dynamite had accidentally blown up.
At least that’s what the giants had been made to believe. Dan had almost been killed when he misjudged the distance it took to escape the blast, and its power had hurled him fifty-five earth yards into an ivy choked thorn bush. It left Dan, miraculously, only with scratches, and even he admitted the injuries were well worth it. The giants had left with no further exploration of the area, leaving the little people’s camp as yet undiscovered.
The explosion had occurred next to a small bluff. Blowing off its immediate side, it revealed hard granite behind it. With nowhere else to go, the blast impact had gone downwards, taking out a good chunk of the ground, which later filled in with water from a hidden underground spring. For the little people, they now had fresh water to draw from, as well as a clean place to bath.
Arriving at the pond, Betty crouched low near the water’s edge, filling the bucket to its rim. Upon standing, she turned—and froze. In the rustling of the tree branches, she could see two giants, both men, coming straight towards her over the forest trail. But what made her heart stop was when one of the men addressed something down about his knees.
Her heart pounding, Betty kept her eyes glued to the men as she broke off the stem of a nearby weed. Normally, she and the other strandees would have needed a hacksaw to cut this plant, but the reed was young. Its stem was green, flexible, and only came to her waist. It was also hollow. She then stepped into the icy water, maneuvering until she was under the safety of a low-hanging evergreen branch. Here, it was deep enough to submerge—if she had to.
A moment later, a brown dog, an obvious trained hunter, broke into view. Resembling a golden retriever, the dog sniffed the area with the intensity of a pursuit, working its way along Betty’s trail.
Betty held her breath, retreating a few more steps under the shadow of her cover. She knew dogs couldn’t follow a scent over water, but she couldn’t help being afraid.
And if the giants came into the pond for any reason, she calculated, it’s a sure bet they wouldn’t do it through the weeds. Then silently prayed she was right.
The dog followed Betty’s trail to the water and was hunting earnestly for her when it paused to peer back at its master, giving an impatient bark as the man approached him.
“Wha’cha got boy, huh?” The man asked, playfully stroking the animal’s head
Taking one last breath, Betty descended into the cold water so slowly she caused not one ripple, tilting her head upwards till only the tip of the hollow stem was visible.
The dog barked and whined at the water, begging his master to investigate, but man and canine had two different agendas in mind.
“Come on, Duke,” the giant commanded. “We’ve got a picnic to get back to.”
Ignoring him, the dog bounded into the pond, stopping only when the water reached its chest. Barking several times, he took a drink, then chased after his master who had already vanished down through worn path.
Steve had sped out of the ship, and was halfway to the pond when his path was cutoff by two giant men. The same, he suspected, who had set off the radar alarm. With no choice but to follow them, he was cautious in his pursuit; keeping close enough to see them, yet far enough back to be able to dive into a gopher hole should their dog pick up his scent.
Steve sprinted up a small boulder. He knew he risked discovery, but it also afforded him a better viewpoint of the general area near the watering hole. Although too far back to make out anything the giants had said along the way, Steve was nevertheless grateful. The men had arrived at the pond, but hadn’t given the usual signs one gave upon discovery of a little person. All the same, their casualness did nothing to disperse his apprehension about Betty as he mentally pushed the trio to hurry up and leave. He hadn’t met her on the trail leaving him to conclude that either she had taken another way home, or she was still there.
Several agonizing minutes later, the threesome finally departed.
When he was sure they were gone, Steve bolted the rest of the way to the clearing, but Betty was nowhere to be seen. Scanning the area, he swallowed his alarm.
“Betty!” he called, consciously keeping one eye on the trees in fear the two giants might return. Or worse, their dog.
“Betty!” he daringly shouted louder this time.
“Here.”
Steve jumped at the soft voice that had come from behind him. Whirling, he stared at the unrecognizable figure emerging from the weeds. Water dripped from every part of the woman’s body, her gold hair laid in mangled streaks all over her head and face, and her lips were blue. Betty clutched herself for warmth, but it did no good. Her teeth chattered like an antique typewriter.
Dread and empathy rose in Steve’s throat as he simultaneously stripped off his jacket and rushed to her. Pulling it around Betty’s shivering shoulders, he furiously rubbed her icy forearms. Worry and anger creased his forehead as he looked over her pallid face. He wanted to scold her for being stupid at hiding in the water, yet he knew she wouldn’t have done it unless she had had no other choice. Under those circumstances, he knew he would have done the same. He also wanted to say something comforting, but that would have been too...personal.
Suddenly Betty quivered violently, jolting Steve into what was important.
“We have to get you to a fire,” he stated, hoping he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.
Betty nodded but didn’t say anything, her glazed eyes staring off at nothing.
Steve put his arm around her, holding her close to keep her warm as he led her back to camp.
Laying her head wearily on
The fire was as high as Steve dared to make it. Holding his jacket over the flames to dry, he looked over at Betty, silently accessing her condition.
She was perched as close to the warming heat as possible, huddled under two blankets bundled tight around her shoulders with a third around her legs. Draining upside down next to her were her waterlogged boots. Although a little color had returned to her cheeks, Betty’s lips were still an unnatural color, and she shuddered uncontrollably from time to time.
“Betty,” Steve began, “this isn’t working, you have to go inside and change into some dry clothes.”
“I don’t have any dry clothes,” she scowled through chattering teeth. “I did my laundry this morning, remember?”
“Check again. There has to be something you can change into.”
Betty looked at him and blinked, then nodded, frowning in resignation. When Steve spoke in that tone of voice, she knew she couldn’t win. Upon standing, her movements were stiff, slow, and awkward as she made her way towards Spindrift.
Is she walking that way because she’s cold? he wondered as he watched her. Or because of her icy clothing? Or, worry slammed into Steve’s chest, the start of an illness?
Steve’s jacket was almost dry when he realized his coworker hadn’t returned. Concerned, he started for the ship when Betty abruptly appeared at its entrance, stopping him dead in his tracks.
Betty’s eyes nervously darted about camp as she shifted the wet clothes from one arm to the other. Stepping off the stairs, she refused to meet Steve’s gaze as she hastened past him to the fire. Knowing a reprimand would be immediately forthcoming, she didn’t give Steve the chance: “This is the only thing I had left,” she sputtered, arranging her clothes on the sitting log. “Valerie locked her suitcases, and I couldn’t find the keys.”
But Steve wasn’t angry, he was stunned. Betty wore a white sequined gown with long slits up the side, halter-style top, and open in the back. She looked beautiful. Too beautiful, which reminded him of just how long they’d been there.
“It’ll do for now,” he muttered swallowing, wondering what he had done in a former life to be so tormented like this.
Returning to the fire, he once again held his jacket up to the heat, and concentrated on anything but Betty standing across from him.
Betty trembled. Partially from cold, but also because she knew Steve was angry. She had seen that stolid expression on his face enough times to recognize his simmering rage. Everything she did seemed to annoy him, but this time it wasn’t her fault.
“I feel silly,” she stammered, hoping to waylay his wrath. “This was the last place I ever expected to wear this thing.”
Steve’s back stiffened. Me, too, he thought. Laying his jacket open on the boulder, he gestured towards the ship. “I’m going back to work in the cockpit. Mark expects it to be done by the time he gets back.” Without waiting for a reply, he spun on his heel and left, very much grateful for the legitimate excuse.
Forty-seven minutes later, the inspection on the main control board was completed and Steve was about to slide to the adjacent panel when a sudden boom filled the room with ear-ringing loudness. Scrambling to his feet, Steve ran outside, and was immediately caught by what Betty was already entranced with.
The sky was filled with the biggest, puffiest clouds either of them had ever seen. But instead of being gray, they were various shades of pink and purple. Along its borders, lightning streaked from one mass to the other as wind rapidly blew the show past them.
Then came the singular, black wall cloud. A definitive line, it had rounded edge like prepackaged cookie dough. Above it was the bright beautiful sun; below it, ominous blackness.
Suddenly several lightning streaks zigzagged across the sky. One struck a tree top near Spindrift with a force so powerful that it shook the ground where the little people stood.
Needing no further warning, Betty snatched up their things as Steve moved protectively beside her, scanning the sky for more bolts.
They heard the tree limb crash through the branches, but ignored it, hastening their retreat to the ship. They had gone only a few feet when both concurrently stopped in their tracks, tilting their head to listen.
The sound was eerie. Like millions of bugs flying through the trees, yet no insect communiqué was heard, just the sound of the leaves being struck.
All at once, both knew what it was. Rain! Large, hammering drops that could knock a human off their feet. Without a word, the two ran in tandem for the ship, springing past the hatchway just as the squall broke.
Inside, Steve rushed to the cabin to close the starboard shields only to find himself awestruck by the sight.
The raindrops were bucket-sized, in and of themselves. The deluge pelted the forest hard and within seconds the ground was saturated in a combination of water, debris of leaves and small branches. A bird, its neck bent at an unnatural angle, fell motionless into the clearing, and there was nothing left of the fire, but a faint wisp of smoke.
Steve, from his post at the small window, watched the camp’s lean-to with grim speculation. We’ll be lucky if there’s anything left of it, he frowned. With solemn ceremony, he closed the view shields, isolating them from the outside chaos and the destruction he knew would be there in the aftermath.
Betty, her eyes wide with fright and wonder, burrowed into
a chair, gripping its arms till her knuckles turned white. Above them, the drops sounded like
cannon balls hitting the roof.
Staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, she fearfully searched for signs of
leakage.
The hull IS well built, she reminded herself, but it wasn’t much a comfort.
The rain itself was nerve-rackingly loud, even for the usually stoic Steve. Clenching his teeth, he too scrutinized the hull, wondering if she could hold up to such a stalwart battering.
Then came the thunder. The first boom had startled them both, but it was its deafening echo, which came a few minutes later that caused them to cringe as it pounded their ears, and made the ground shake so hard that it rattled the tiny spacecraft.
Betty stood and paced, wrapping and unwrapping her arms
about herself, only to drop them a second later.
It’s only a thunderstorm, she told herself, covering her ears with her hands in hopes of muffling the soul-piercing sound; grimacing as the thunder only seemed to get louder.
Glancing at Steve, she envied the man at this moment. The group’s purported pillar of strength had taken an aisle chair, and was listening calmly, almost fascinatingly so, to the havoc outside.
Clutching herself once more, the stewardess paused at the galley entryway. “I’m getting a drink of water, you want one?” she asked with a brave yet shaky smile.
Steve shook his head. Glaring upwards at the storm and enthralled by its fury, he was, at the same time, calculating the damage they would have to face when it was all over.
Betty huddled under the galley’s counter, trembling as she concentrated hard on remnants of home. The initial thunderclaps had come minutes apart, giving them time to prepare for the next onslaught, but the storm had escalated dramatically, showing no mercy as it bombarded the Spindrift with all the fury it held. Even holding towels over her ears had done nothing to alleviate the deafening booms that came one relentlessly on top of another, attacking her senses and leaving her no place to hide from the storm’s rage.
Feeling something on her shoulder, Betty’s head shot up. It was Steve.
Taking her arm, Steve pulled her up to him. “Why didn’t you come to me,” he annoyingly demanded over the rumbles.
“I didn’t want you to know I was afraid!”
Another earsplitting boom engulfed the room, jostling the ship.
Startled, they clutched each other; Betty burying her head
into
Steve didn’t know how much more his ship could take, and feared they would find out all too soon—wincing as another bolt struck what felt like only a few feet away, rocking the floor violently. He felt Betty shudder and unconsciously pulled her tighter, absently caressing her bare back, his thoughts lost in the storm.
Betty closed her eyes as she gripped Steve’s waist for dear life, holding her breath against the next thunderclap she knew would be forthcoming. She’d been captured by giants many times, but she couldn’t remember a time as terrifying as this one.
Betty’s skin felt cold to Steve’s touch, much to his alarm, yet she felt good in his arms.
Too good, he acknowledged as he rubbed her back and shoulders hoping to stem her shivering. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed holding a woman—even if that woman was Betty—until now. And Betty was a woman, an idea he had long ago pushed aside for the safety of their stay there. A fact, Steve, once again, decidedly forced to the back of his mind.
Quivering, Betty hadn’t known just how cold she’d been until now. The warmth of Steve’s body and his hand on her back had relieved some of her chill, while his closeness gave her an odd sense of security. She knew being in his arms wasn’t correct protocol, but she didn’t care, for the embrace was a much welcomed distraction from the storm, and one she wasn’t about to give up readily.
Another tremor shook the ship, but Steve didn’t notice as he caught himself thinking of the woman he held and silently berated himself for it. But it was difficult not to be distracted. Betty’s frame fitted perfectly to his, and despite their crude, harsh life here, he found her skin surprisingly soft as he moved his palm along her spine, enjoying the sensations it sent to him. Except for the mole in the middle of her lower back, her skin was invitingly flawless.
Despite having told herself that Steve’s gentle caresses meant nothing more than to warm and soothe her, Betty couldn’t keep her heart from racing as sensations long ignored were stimulated. Had they been on Earth, she knew she would have drawn her companion closer, but they weren’t on Earth, she scolded herself, and this wasn’t a romantic interlude—the ground-moving thunderclap was a reminder of that.
Steve closed his eyes as Betty, frightened, dug her fingers into his back, kneading his tense muscles. Whether she was doing it intentionally or not, he didn’t care. The act was startlingly sensual, resurrecting his deliberately repressed feelings—Steve suddenly wished he were back on Earth where one didn’t have to be afraid of romance, or its consequences. On this planet even holding hands was risky for if it lead to something more, a person couldn’t just walk away should the romance turn sour. Or the lover died.
But for now, Steve just wanted to lose himself in the intimacy while there was a chance to. Impulsively, he snuggled into her hair, hoping she was too afraid to know just how much their closeness was affecting him.
Feeling Steve’s warm breath on her neck, Betty’s heart skipped. More than anything, she wanted to respond, but she knew, in truth, this never would have happened on Earth and that Steve Burton probably wished he were somewhere else, with someone else.
Nevertheless, Betty wished she could preserve this moment forever. She knew it would never happen again, at least not between them, and quite possibly, never again with any other man. With all her heart, she wanted to escape into the fantasy and forget, for one fleeting instant, their dire circumstances.
Steve knew he was close to where it was dangerous to be, yet the clean smell of Betty’s hair, her warmth, and the security she generated was overpowering, setting off an averse stirring within him that was impossible to ignore. He was the leader of the group, he reminded himself, and he had to do what was best for all, even if that meant pulling away. But he was tired of being the leader, and for once, he wanted to be simply what he was, a man. A man kissing a woman….
Betty knew she was letting herself be consumed by the intimacy and she knew had to stop it, but the reasons why deserted her….
In the same instant, in the same heartbeat, the two found each other’s lips, kissing passionately, hungrily against denial, against loneliness, and against fear, the storm all but forgotten.
Steve tried hard not to think of the reasons, of the consequences, of the future, and what it could mean, pushing it away for he didn’t want to remember. Not for a few minutes at least. But he couldn’t do it. His logic and his conscience wouldn’t let him. He had to stop.
But before Steve could, he felt Betty go still. Slowly she released him from the kiss as she pulled her arms from around him. She had had the same idea as he had, he realized as sadness washed over him. The moment was over. Steve he kept his eyes closed, fighting to retain every sensual impression, at the same time scurrying to think of something to say.
But there was no chance. The thunderclap was so loud it hurt, followed by an almost instantaneous crash on Spindrift’s hull. Steve dropped them to the floor without hesitation, covering Betty’s body with his own. Their hearts pounding in fright, both peered around, expecting to find the entire frame collapsing around them. It wasn’t, but Steve wasn’t about to wait till it did. Grabbing Betty’s hand, he pulled her to the cockpit, sanctioning her into what he hoped would be a safe place.
“Stay here!” he ordered. He then ran to the main hatchway, opening its shield.
The storm, albeit still powerful, had moved from the area, leaving the already anticipated damage.
Steve didn’t need to step out of Spindrift to see what had caused the tremendous crash for the reason was right before him. A large tree branch now stretched across the entire clearing, ironically, giving them better coverage than what they had had before. But it also made it damned near impossible for them to take-off, even if they had been able to.
Preoccupied with decisions, and overwhelmed with guilt, Steve ignored the figure that had quietly come beside him.
“Ah no,” Betty moaned as she too surveyed the area.
“Yeah,” Steve exhaled angrily. More things to repair with materials they didn’t have. Squatting, he took a pebble that had found its way onto the carpet, and threw it outside with all the anger he held. Half-second later, the stone splashed into the pond that was now their front yard.
Leaning against the wall, Betty studied Steve’s face. She saw his jaw tighten and felt the tension as he tried to avoid her. She knew he was singularly taking the blame for what had happened.
“Steve,” she gently begun.
“Not now,” he snapped. Shooting to his feet, he spun around, disappearing into the cockpit.
Over and over again, Steve berated himself, insisting he should have stopped it right at the very beginning. Yet remembering the wondrous swarm of emotions he had experienced, he couldn’t regret it. He felt oddly alive again. Like he had just awakened from a prolonged sleep.
But it was still wrong and he knew it. Betty was a friend. Nothing more.
Sitting at the control board, his head on his palm, Steve stared at the havoc in front of him, not seeing any of it. Instead, his mind anguished over finding the words that would put his situation with Betty back to where it had been before the storm. Back to a professional level.
Behind him, he heard the hatch slide open, and felt his stomach tighten. He wasn’t ready for this yet.
Quietly Betty stepped into the room. “I’m sorry,” she told him, her tone soft and sincere. “I’m sorry you weren’t on Earth when it happened, and I’m sorry you weren’t with the woman you would have preferred to have been with. I do want you to know, Captain Burton, I am not taking this personally.”
Just hearing her voice made Steve wish he could have crawled into a hole. “You underestimate yourself,” he returned, feeling shame as he added, “And overestimate me.”
“Captain,” there had been no mistaking the change in her tone. It was hard, almost to be point of being callous, “if nothing else, let’s be honest with each other. You were never attracted to me, and I was never attracted to you. We were both scared. All that was was a distraction, nothing more, pure and simple. We have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing to feel guilty about.”
Steve couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Betty had always struck him as the romantic type, and not a woman who would take such encounters so lightly. Swiveling around, he studied her face. She didn’t flinch, nor turn away as he had. Her expression was one of utmost sincerity and determination.
“Are you sure?” he asked, almost afraid to hear her answer.
“Yes,” she returned without hesitation, her answer decisive. “Steve, if I believed everything a man told me, I would have been married a hundred times over by now,” which brought a grin to Burton’s face. “Now if you’ll find me a screwdriver, I’ll go open that damned suitcase even if I have to use my teeth!”
Standing, Steve picked up the screwdriver he had left there earlier, and brought it to her.
Taking it, Betty’s eyes nervously took in the corridor. “And just to set the record straight, the guilt isn’t yours alone. I could have stopped it at any time, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. I know,” she emphasized, “there’s nothing between us. Never has been, never will be, never would have been. So you can relax,” she then gave him a teasing smile, “your reputation is safe with me.”
“Thank you,” he sighed, feeling the tension drain from his throbbing head.
“Don’t mention it,” she replied with a flippancy that made them both grin.
“No,” Steve chuckled, thinking ahead, “I guess we shouldn’t.”
Bravely they met each other’s gaze—and grinned, relieved they could be so honest and forthright with each other.
Steve then cleared his throat, nodding at the gown. “You, ah, better get changed. Valerie sees you in that, we both know what she’ll think, but it’s what she might do afterwards that worries me.”
“Right,” concurred Betty, already hearing Valerie dogging them about some imaginary fling that wasn’t so imagery.
As she stepped into the corridor, Steve found himself full of new respect for Elizabeth Hamilton.
“Betty,” he called out.
Stopping, she turned. “Yes, Captain?”
Steve took one last, long look. No matter how much he wanted to denial it, standing there in that gown, Betty was still an unexpected vision. One he could at least remember for a long time.
He shook his head, his expression sober. “Don’t ever wear that dress again.” It wasn’t a request, it was a command.
Understanding, Betty gave a brief nod before continuing to the storage compartment.
Observing the white, sultry figure as she disappeared from view, Steve couldn’t help but feel regretful despite the twinge of guilt that went with it, and at the same time, grateful for the stormy interruption.
Up here, you can’t walk away, he reminded himself.
Walking away was one thing, he ruminated as he resumed his seat, but can I ever forget?
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