“He’d learning his lesson weeks ago, during his first venture into the jungle, when in his haste to find food he’d stepped in a ditch and turned his ankle. It’d swelled up horribly, forcing him to crawl back to camp. He was laid up for days after that, unable to provide for his family. Luckily for him Lucia was a strong and capable woman, proficient with a rod and spear, but that feeling of uselessness ate away at him all the same. It was bad enough that his architectural skills were poor, that ...every time a tropical storm blew over the island the winds toppled over the hut he’d constructed from tarps and downed palm trees. He only wanted Eddie Jr. to look up to him the way he’d looked up to his own father—as a strong, capable provider. He leaned against a tree as the land scaled upward, catching his breath. Sweat poured over his face. His thoughts drifted back to Spain, to the modest apartment just off the coast where he, Lucia, and Eddie Jr. had lived in reticent luxury. They didn’t have much—two bedrooms, a small drawing room, and an even smaller kitchen—but that was fine by him.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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