Brittany had the fortunate duty of awakening first.
 
 she thought, pulling 
herself with grace she was unaccustomed to from the bag.  
Brighty fell, rolled, and snorted, but resumed sleeping 
easily.  She went to the center of the triangle, and 
observed her three friends asleep.  Jared, still shaded; 
Mike, light twisted with darkness around his closed eyes; 
Brighty, bathed in sunlight.  It was oddly symbolic, almost, 
of how she felt for the three of them; for Jared, a darker 
emotion, deep within; for Mike, a lighter feeling that 
clashed with a deeper one; Brighty, the bliss of light 
emotions, and as with all light, the fact that you can only 
spend so much time inside it.

 She sighed, thinking,   A sudden blip 
caught her eye, and she pushed away her hair, shaded her 
eyes, and squinted to see what it was. 

 A spot of red, it seemed.

 

 Maybe it was Brittany's intuition.  Maybe it was just the 
grating of two powers against each other.  Maybe it was the 
fact that the Guardian saw in her something stubborn and 
different.  Or maybe it was because Brittany never really 
cared for red things shooting out of the fire and running 
their lives.  Whatever it was, her eyes suddenly narrowed 
and she raced away from the triangle on the beach toward the 
blip.

 Prepared to let loose a torrent, she nearly tripped and 
gaped instead.  On the beach, just out of the reach of the 
tide, lay clothing, piled nicely on each other; long shorts 
(she thought), a shirt stretched over that, a bra (right 
size, according to the tag), and a pair of plain ole' cotten 
underwear.  She knelt and touched the fabric, surprised when 
it didn't dissolved into spiders and other wrathful things; 
looking up toward's the forest, and back to the camp.

  she thought.  
  
Gathering her clothes, she looked up at the forest--and saw 
another red blip.

 "Coming, scarlet lady," she whispered, and took off.

 The boys woke at roughly the same time, though Jared was 
the first one to raise from his bag and squint at the light.  
Mike was next, half-shading his face; the lucky Care Cousin 
got off easily, not squinting because he didn't need to.  He 
bounded over to Mike, saying in an overly cheerful voice, 
"Good MORNING!"

 Mike had to smile, though a small part gnawed at him and 
told him that would get to be really annoying, really 
quickly.  "Good morning to you as well, BrightHeart," he 
said in a quiet voice.  

 "Leave me out," grumbled Jared, rising out of his bag and 
walking around them to the firepit.  The fire still burned, 
though it was only down to small, softly pulsing coals.  As 
he walked by, though, the coals flared slighty; he stopped 
in his tracks, eyes widening to saucer size as the sand in 
front of his feet shifted.

 "guys...Guys...GUYS!!!" he called, his voice shifting into 
higher, more nervous, yet steadier tones.  

 "Jared?" Mike asked.

 "Get over here!" he yelled back, a little trace of frantic 
in his voice.

 Mike exchanged a glance with Brighty, and he vaulted to his 
feet.  The raccoon, not understanding the urgency or the 
fear, followed, tottering along curiously.  He stopped short 
by Jared, and his face abruptly turned white.  BrightHeart, 
not understanding the frozen posture of his friends, asked 
in child-like wonder, "What?"

 "The sand....those clothes..." Mike mumbled, and Brighty 
peeked around his legs. 

 "Oh wow!" he exclaimed.

 "Oh wow?!?" Jared said, looking over at the Care Cousin.  
"The ground is producing clothes--CLOTHES!--and all you can 
say is 'oh wow'?"

 "It's a customary Care expression," Brighty replied 
quietly.  Inside his unprejudiced, untainted mind, a small 
kernel of a thought began to form--what if Jared didn't 
actually like him?  What if he was...BAD?  He quickly, 
mentally shook it away, then looked back and gasped.

 The other gentlemen followed his eyes--they'd been 
exchanging glares due to Jared's remarks (which Mike felt 
harsh)--and watched as a red sparkle skipped around the 
clothes.  Without a flash, a sound, or a big to do, the 
clothes appeared on top of the now undisturbed sand, not a 
grainy speck to be seen on them.

 "It has to be that red thing..." Mike began.
 
 "The Guardian," Jared filled in.

 "...it said it would take care of us," he finished.

 Jared's face broke out in a grin.  "One of the good 
things," he said.  "Especially since I flunked sewing."

 "What does sewing have to do with this?" Brighty inquired.

 "All those shipwrecked people--they always had to make 
clothes out of rattan leaves or weave some such stuff.  I 
always thought that would SUCK.  Besides, green is just NOT 
my color," he replied.

 Mike grinned uncharacteristically, before stooping to grab 
his clothing.  Jared followed, and while they didn't go the 
dramatic distance Brittany did, they did hide behind a few 
scant pieces of shrubbery to change.  Brighty just donned 
the bright yellow vest with a multitude of pockets that had 
been provided for him, and plodded back to the campfire.  He 
gave a small chirp, for while their backs had been turned, 
the fire had regurgitated the second surprise for the 
morning: breakfast.  It was also at this time, just as Jared 
was squeezing into his jeans and Mike donning a clean shirt, 
that he realized who was missing from the camp.

 "Where's Brittany?" he asked when they joined him, nasal 
tone varying in pitch as a note of concern crept into his 
voice.

 "I didn't see her this morning," Jared replied, reaching 
for the covered bowl, spoon taped to the bottom.  

 "Neither did I," Mike said, shaking his own covered bowl 
before opening to reveal some unknown cereal.  A cautious 
bite revealed that it did taste pretty good, and confidently 
he continued to eat.  "I'd bet that she woke up a little 
earlier than us, saw her clothes, and went to change.  She's 
a bit shy."

 "I'd classify that as 'modest,' Mike," Jared pointed out.

 Brighty nodded, not speaking due to his mouth being full of 
sticky oatmeal.  "Nobing oob wobby aboub," he managed to 
say, drawing laughs from both guys.  It was odd to be living 
with a live Care Cousin; it was even weirder to watch him 
try to talk with his mouth full.  It made him seem oddly 
more human than he ever had.

 "Why do you...say that?" Mike asked.  "You don't even know 
her!"

 "Defensive this morning," Jared admonished.

 "Uh-huh," Brighty added, carefully avoiding any words that 
he couldn't use gutteral sounds on.

 "Is your mouth stuck together?" Mike asked him.

 The raccoon shrugged.  "Baybe," he replied, upper part of 
his mouth nearly not seperating from the lower part of his 
mouth.

 Jared began to laugh.  "You're stuck, Brighty, you're 
stuck!" he called, giggles bubbling up from him.  The sound 
was foreign to both guys, and they both turned and STARED at 
him; he didn't cease giggling by any means, though.  "Oh! 
This is BEAUTIFUL!" he said with a grin.

 "Jared, it's not really funny," Mike warned.

 "Stop being so defensive, Mike! If this had happened to 
Daniel, you'd be rolling on the floor holding your stomach 
by now.  You know it's funny, so LAUGH!"  he replied with a 
wave, laughing between words.  When Mike seemed to glare at 
him, he added, "Mike, I'm sure Brighty knows the difference 
between 'laughing at' and 'laughing with'."

 Mike looked at the Care Cousin, who was feverishly trying 
to open and shut his mouth.  However, once Jared stopped 
talking, he turned, aimed a set of purple puppy dog eyes at 
him, and said, "I boo."

 That did it.  Both Mike and Jared began to laugh, and 
Brighty tried along with him, his laughs coming out as 
snorts....which, of course, set them off even more.  When 
Brittany walked up, dressed and slightly frustrated at not 
having been able to catch the red speck (yet losing her 
nightgown in the muck), she watched, hands on hips, as they 
rolled along the ground.

 "Am I interrupting something, or did someone find a 
laughing gas tank while I was gone?" she asked.

 "Welcome back.  Breakfast," Jared replied, a wide and 
bright smile on his face as he handed her the bowl with the 
spoon.  She plopped down on the sand and opened it, eyes 
lighting to find a mixture of several kinds of cereals.  
"Good taste, red thing," she said, adding a silent whisper, 
then began to hunch.

 "Guardian," said Jared.  "It's the Guardian I was talking 
about yesterday.  None of you seem to get it's name, so 
repeat after me...GUAR-DI-AN."

 "Guarbian," Brighty said.
 "Guardian," Mike said.
 "GUAR-DI-AN," Brittany said.  Then, to Brighty, "What's a 
matter?"

 "He tried oatmeal for the first time," Mike informed her.

 "He's a bit stuck on it," Jared giggled.

 "You gentlemen are so crude," she informed them, then 
walked around to Brighty.  They all had drinks that morning 
as well, appearing in flaming red cups and being either 
juice, milk, water or tea.  Brittany had the fortune of 
having water, and after whispering some words to Brighty, 
she took her cup and tilted it over his face.

 "Britt!" Mike called.

 "I'm helping him," she replied as the creature sputtered.

 "Helping him my..." Mike started, before she leveled him to 
a sitting position and went back to eat her breakfast.  

 "Much better," Brighty said.

 "HEY! What did you do!" Mike asked.

 "The only way to soften and thin oatmeal is to add water, 
guys.  So I did that," she replied, digging into the bowl 
and relishing her first spoonful.
 
 "Thank you, Brittany," he said.

 "You're welcome, Bright Heart.  In the future, I suggest 
you make sure your oatmeal doesn't sit TOO close to the 
fire," she replied.

 They finished their breakfast in relative quiet, Jared 
occasionally coughing up a surplus giggle or Brighty 
scraping his bowl to get to the last dribble of the meal.  
When they were done, Mike decided to bring up the topic that 
had been secretly bugging him since they had woken up that 
morning.

 "Where are we going to sleep tonight?" he asked.

 "What do you mean?" Britt asked.

 "We can't depend on sleeping here," he said.

 "Mike's right.  I think we need to look into constructing 
some sort of shelter," Brighty said.

 "Wait a minute," Jared broke in.  "We can't go playing 
Swiss Family Robinson on an island that changes shape!"

 "The beach seems stable," Mike replied.

 "All right, maybe it is.  Where are the tools, Mike?" he 
asked, eyes narrowing and shadowing his cheeks.

 "I'm pretty sure I can make some," Brighty replied.

 "Make tools?  Out of WHAT?" Jared retorted.

 "The Island metal, tree branches, stones from the caves.  
And I've got all sorts of inventions that can help! We Care 
Cousins are great at this kind of stuff!" he replied.

 "I'm sure you and I could at least put together a 
rudimentary structure," Mike said.  "We're strong enough."

 "But how do we know what's going to hold?" Brittany asked.  
"We've been here for a day!  We don't know what the weather 
will be like, or what's going to happen!" 

 "She has a point, Mike.  How can we build a lean-to if a 
hurricane is around the corner?"

 "Look, Jared, blue sky!" he pointed out, voice brisk.  

 "Hurricanes can come out of nowhere, Mike," Brittany said.

 "Look, we shouldn't fight.  Why don't we just..."

 "Shutup!" Jared retorted.  

 "Don't tell him to shutup!" Mike jumped in.  "He's in on 
this too!"

 "Only if he can contribute!"

 "Look, if it's that pressing, why don't we just go ask the 
damn Guardian?" Brittany broke in, sarcarstic.  "It seems 
that it provides everything anyway."

 "I don't want to be dependent on that, but on us!" Mike 
said, anger seeping into his voice.

 "Who says we can do it, Mike?"

 "If Gilligan can, we can," he shot back.

 "At least he got paid," Britt grumbled.

 "Mike, that's ludicrous!" Jared yelled.  "We don't know 
WHAT we're doing, or how we're going to do it, or with what! 
So just drop it!"

 "Why don't you just..." Mike started, but then a flash of 
red careened across his eyes.
 
 Fleshlings.

 "Oh, it's you," Brittany said.

 Fleshings, do not argue.  This Island is mine, my home, and 
I control it.  The beach will suit your flesh just fine; if 
you wish to create shelter indoors, you may use the caverns.  
That is all you will require.
It didn't even assume a shape, just a soft red ball that 
pulsed with each word.  When it had finished, it pulsed once 
more, flashing away to wherever it went.

 "Fleshling?" Brighty asked.

 "Apparently, she has no meat on her bones," Mike said 
wryly.

 "It.  It's an it," Jared added, the color of his eyes 
returning to their natural brown.

 "Well, we heard the it," Brittany punched through.  "Let's 
see what we can do with our alloted areas."

*	*	*	*
 They worked throughout the day, setting up the place they 
now where as their permanant spot on the beach before 
heading up toward the caves.  After an hour searched, they 
chose one will a large open space to use as Brighty's 
workshop; a smaller, branching section was given to Brittany 
by Brighty.  They also chose the cave next door to hang 
their weapons and conduct tests, due to it's obvious torch 
niches in the walls.  They skipped lunch in their silent 
work, and darkness had begun to combat the red of sunset 
when they made their way to the dinner table.

 It was a hearty affair--heavy rolls and beef stew, 
complemented by a personal drink for all of them.  Jared was 
mildly surprised to detect a small quantity of alcohol in 
his drink.  It was not enough to get him stewed, or even 
buzz him; it just added warmth to the drink.  A glance at 
the strange look on Britt's and Mike's faces confirmed that 
they also had an element in their drinks, of different 
potency.  Brighty was undeterred by his drink, but carefully 
sampled the food.

 The fire they'd built was cozily burning when Brighty 
remarked, "I sure miss Care-A-Lot."
 
 "Huh?" was the general response.

 "You've only been gone a day, Brighty," Brittany said 
gently.  

 "I have a feeling I'll be gone a lot longer than that," he 
said wistfully.  "You all sure need a lot of Caring."  He 
seemed to perk up.  "But I have my memories, and I won't 
leave until you three are all right."

 "Leave?"

 They all turned to Jared, who was again shaded by the 
fire's glow, as if it had cast a strange, repellent spell on 
him.  "What do you mean, leave?"

 "As soon as I'm done with this Mission," he reported.

 A low laugh from Jared.  "You'll never be done, Bright 
Heart."
 
 "Jared, all you okay?" Mike asked, suddenly suspcious of 
his friend's tone.

 "You don't get it, do you?" he replied acidly.  "Or maybe 
I...only I, lonely me...remember.  But we're not going to 
leave this place.  EVER.  Do you understand?  The Guardian 
is paying back Mike's gift of life with a lifelong gift of 
her own--the chance to stay here as long as we live.  Never 
to leave."  His voice dropped.  "Never."

    Source: geocities.com/soho/gallery/8281

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