We had pretty much cleaned up everything by the time her parents' boat re-appeared on the horizon. May had gone against type and put on a pair of panties under her shorts because she "didn't wanna lose any more of (my) stuff from inside" her. It made me sad to know that she felt upset about my leaving and was trying hard not to show it. I was really tempted to break the news to her, but thought I should leave it to her parents to speak to her.
Aunt Lucy and Uncle Larry were silhouetted against the evening sky as the boat approached the shore. My hands were free, but her right hand was still busy, rooting about under my shorts and briefs, tickling my balls and cock and whispering about what she would do to me tomorrow. She kept it up until they dropped anchor. Then she took her hand out and asked me point blank: "You're not gonna forget me again, are you Charlie?"
I looked at her and saw the sadness in her big brown eyes, and answered truthfully: "No, I don't think I'll ever forget you again, May. Not this time." She smiled, her eyes brimming, and turned away so I would not see her cry. But I knew that she was sad, my little May.
"May, I hope..." I began, then stopped. I really shouldn't spoil everything. Not right now. "What is it, cuz?" she turned back to me, her eyes searching mine. "I hope you will be happy," I blurted. It was lame I knew, but it was the best I could do, given how she was looking at me. It made me melt inside and I badly wanted to tell her the truth. But I couldn't. Not yet, anyhow.
She turned away. "I... will, Charlie," she said softly. "I'll try to be. At least I have the memory of these days with you. And your stuff... that's still tickling me down there," she said, trying to deflect attention away from her sadness. She rubbed her legs together provocatively. "It's making me want to do it again."
I smiled at her and we made our way out to the boat. The catch was just as impressive as the previous day's, with eels and even a large garoupa which Aunty Lucy said she wanted to cook for dinner tonight, in honour of my leaving the next day. I politely declined, telling them it would fetch a good price at the market and they should sell it tomorrow morning.
Uncle Larry then turned to me and said with a smile: "We're not going to the market tomorrow, Charlie. It's only right that we send you off to the pier."
May and I did not react, but I saw her glance towards me, her eyes clearly upset. I stammered and said it was alright, I would find my own way there and besides, fresh fish sell at higher prices, but they were having none of it. "Of course not, Charlie," said Aunt Lucy. "You're family, and you've been a real gem while you were here. I know you've been helping May a lot with the chores."
I caught May's eyes once more and knew that she was disappointed that we would not have the morning to ourselves tomorrow. I was a little unhappy too, that I wouldn't be waking up to a naked May snuggling next to me, but knowing what I knew, I wasn't too upset. I gave her a small smile, hoping that she would get the idea that something was up.
She apparently had no clue, however, because she didn't say anything to me while we were moving the day's catch to the house, and she disappeared into her room immediately after that. I didn't see her any more before dinner, and trudged off to our washing place alone, a little sad that my May was so upset.
When we sat down for dinner however, May was back to her old self, chatting animatedly with her parents about the catch and what they were going to do tomorrow before sending me off to the ferry. Perhaps she had worked out in her own mind that there was little she could do about it, so she had to make the most of it.
Finally, after we had eaten our fill, she stood up and started clearing the table. Her father stopped her and asked her to sit down, saying: "May, we have something to say to you."
The look on her face was one of confusion and guilt. At least, that's what I thought, but her parents didn't seem to get that. "May, you've been a good daughter to us for 19 years," her mother picked up the thread of conversation as she sat down. "We know you've been working hard, and you haven't complained even though we're not exactly living in comfort on this farm."
"May, there's something that your cousin here has suggested," said Uncle Larry, his moustache twitching. "At first we didn't think it was a good idea, and your mother took some persuading, but now, we've decided it may be the best thing for you."
"Cuz? Charlie suggested..?" she said, her eyes opening wide in surprise. "What did he..?" "He suggested that you should go with him to the city," said Aunt Lucy, her eyes moving from her face to mine and back again. "At first, I was against the idea because I didn't see how you would be able to adapt to life in the city. But your cousin was very insistent. And he was very confident he would be able to help you adjust."
May's eyes moved down to the table full of dirty dishes. "But... Mom, Dad... who'll help you..?" she began, and Uncle Larry laughed. "I knew you would say that! We'll do fine, May. We did fine before you came along and we'll do just as fine after you're gone."
"But... I don't... umm... I'm not..." she stammered as her eyes moved to her parents' face. She was studiously avoiding my gaze. Oops. Maybe her answer wouldn't be what I hoped for.
"We just think it might be a good idea for you, sweetheart," her mother said. "I mean, there's not much for you here on this farm. Or this island, for that matter. At least, if you went to the city, you would have a choice. A chance at a better life. One that we couldn't give you. And cousin Charlie has been very convincing about how he'll look out for you when you're there.
"Don't worry about the money," Aunt Lucy continued as her mouth opened in protest. "I've been saving some over the years, and besides, the great harvests we've been having this week have also helped."
May shut her mouth and kept looking down at the table. She still refused to look at me, and I could see that something was troubling her. Maybe it was simply that the thought of leaving the island was just too scary for her. Or maybe the idea of leaving her parents and striking out on her own was too way out.
"Maybe you should take some time to think about this, May," I blurted out. I hated seeing her so uncertain like this. This was not the bubbly, carefree May I knew. "You don't need to decide now."
She stared at the table for a few moments more, then she looked at her parents and said "I'm going out for a walk." With that, she stood up and left. I helped Aunt Lucy with the washing up that evening, even though part of me wanted to be out there walking with her. I wanted to talk to her, to find out what she was thinking and what was troubling her. I kept looking out the doorway, waiting to see her walking back into the house. As we dried off the last dishes, I realised that I wasn't even intending to persuade her to come back with me. Whatever her decision, I wanted the cheery old May back.
She came back to the farmhouse much later, when we were watching the news on the new TV. She walked in and sat next to her parents and hugged them. Then she looked at me. "I've made up my mind," she said. "Thank you, cousin Charlie, for the offer. But my place is here, on this farm, on this island. I couldn't leave it. I couldn't leave Mom and Dad. This is all I've ever known.
