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   Title         : Island Girl     Author     : MeatBot

   Keywords : Pedo, Mg

   Date        : 20161204

   Mail         : meatbot777 at gmail dot com

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   Synopsis : A soldier meets a young girl in the jungle after being
separated from his squad.

   Disclaimer : Copyright by the author.  Permission is granted to archive,
repost, or publish in no-cost or low-cost archives, periodicals,
anthologies of this type of material if unaltered and attributed to the
author.  This is a work of fiction.  The author does not condone any sexual
activity among persons under 16 in real life.

   These are just words, people.  Just words.  If you have a problem with
words see a competent shrink or an English teacher.  I have never been a
soldier, and I wasn't even alive during the big war.  This is story not
very historically accurate, but gimme a break, it's just a story.  Worst of
all, it's not politically correct by today's standards.  Sorry, it was a
different time.

   So much story, so little sex.  Sorry.  That, too, was a different time.

                                --==+==-

   There is possibly nothing in this world more satisfying than being a
simple foot soldier and taking out an enemy sniper.  I should get the
goddam medal of honor or something for doing that very thing.  No telling
how many lives I saved, including my own, of course.  That the motherfucker
was a jap didn't really matter to me when I finally got him in my sights.
He was just another bastard that was trying to kill me.  Seeing the back of
his head explode was one of the high points of my entire life.

   But...  a few weeks later...  just a few weeks after that came the real
high point of my life.  I'll tell everybody about that goddam sniper, even
though I can't prove that I really killed him.  I mean, I picked up his
tags and shit, but I could have picked them off any dead jap.  Nobody else
was there.  Nobody saw me shoot him.  And...  thank god...  nobody saw the
other thing I did, on that island.  I don't think I'd get the CMH for that
one.

   The war had turned in our favor, as we had hoped it would.  The
industrial might of the gigantic US had built machines, incredible machines
of war...  maybe not better than the jap's war machines, but a hell of lot
more of them.  I mean, come on...  think about it...  an island about the
size of California, trying to take on the US?  I coulda figgered that one
out from the start.

   We were sweeping through the islands, the South Sea Islands, the
Marianas, Micronesia, the Marshalls...  all of them...  we were liberating
people and taking back territory like crazy.  The Japs were falling back to
their mainland.  We knew the war was pretty much over, just some mopping up
to do.  Well, and the big problem...  taking the Japanese mainland.  That
one was gonna be hard.

   The japs still fought like devils.  I guess they hadn't heard the war
was almost over.  When we hit the beach, we left half of my squad face down
in the mud.  The rest of us were pissed like nobody's business about that,
and we smashed those fuckers back into the stone age.  We killed nine or
ten japs for every one of ours, at least.  We paid dearly for that island,
but we won it fair and square with blood and guts, flamethrowers and 30.06
rounds.  A few japs were left in the jungle and the caves, but most of them
were buried in long trenches outside our camp.

   That sniper, though.  He was a nuisance.  He'd shot five or six guys
from my camp alone.  We called him "Cross-Eyed Willy" because he honestly
wasn't a very good shot.  He'd winged a few guys, and even bounced a round
off a guy's brain bucket once.  Once my CO was yelling at us, and something
pinged off the side of a truck behind him.  He froze, and searched the
jungle.  Maybe ten seconds later the shot sounded, and my CO gave the guy
in the jungle the finger with both hands while we all laughed like crazy. I
almost felt sorry for the poor fuck out there somewhere, wastin' bullets.
Them japs got bad eyes, so I hear, I imagined him angrily taking off his
little round glasses and cleaning them while he cursed.

   Anyway, it got close and personal for me, a few weeks after we took the
island.  I was assigned to go with some poor fuck and deliver some supplies
to Santi-aye, a small base on the other side of the island.  We'd have to
drive right through sniper territory, but so what.  I sat in the rider's
seat with my bang stick and tried to stay awake.  We got probably right
about the halfway point, ten miles out in the bush, and the goddam engine
choked and died.  We rolled to a halt, and my poor soon-to-be-dead buddy
just stared at me.  I could tell he was scared.  I sighed.

   "Let's pop the hood," I said.  "I know a little about engines."

   Five minutes later, I had to tell him we were fucked.  We were basically
out of gas.  Somebody had slit the fuel line, not simply cut it, but slit
it, so it sprayed out when the line was pressured.  I was surprised we
hadn't smelled it in the cab.  Probably some weaselly jap had snuck inside
the perimeter at night, and slit the goddam fuel line.  And the jerry-can
had a hole poked in the bottom of it.  We were fucked.  They had done told
us that nobody had traveled this road in the last two days.  I knew we
might be out here a while, for a night, at least.  I didn't like that and I
was sure Rodney didn't either.

   We stood there, sweating in the hot sun.  We'd both long since taken our
shirts off.  I stared at his dog tags, wondering what the "J" of his middle
initial stood for.

   "Rod," I finally said.  "We're fucked.  Grab your gun and..."

   Something made a thumping sound behind him and he said "Whuff!" as air
was driven from his lungs.  His whole body jerked in an almost comical
fashion.  His dog tags flipped up a few inches and fell back against him as
his body collapsed onto the ground.  I heard the shot about that time,
maybe a second later.  Close, it was goddam close.  Bullets go fast, but
they ain't instant.  I knew the fucker that shot him was close.

   I fell to the ground and rolled under the truck.  Fuck, what good did
that do, the thing was two feet off the ground, if not more.  I rolled in
the sand to the other side, and jumped up, knowing the truck was now
between me and where I figgered the guy was.  I worried about my feet
though.  I yanked the passenger door open and grabbed my shit, my canteen
and the small pack I'd put together.  I saw Rodney's Garand and popped the
clip and stuck it in my pocket.  My rifle was on the truck, behind the
raised hood.  I bent, hiding as best I could, and fumbled around until I
pulled it free.  The windshield shattered, and a second later another shot
sounded.

   Fuck!  I thought.  It's fucking Cross-Eye!  I didn't want to die, and I
sure didn't want to die because of that fucker.  I kept the truck between
him and me (I hoped) and dived into the jungle.  It wasn't even twenty feet
from the road to deep dark jungle, and into that shit I went.  I didn't
stop for at least five minutes, and I hid behind some kind of huge tree
when I finally did stop.  The jungle was not quiet, birds, monkeys, and all
kinds of things squawked and chirped and made noises.  I said "Shhhh!"
loudly, and was rewarded with maybe a second of silence, before it all
started up again.  Fuck.  I just hoped to fuck Cross-Eye wasn't stalking
me.

   When I finally started moving again I tried to parallel the road, as
best I could.  My plan was just to follow the road back to camp, so what if
it took a day or three.  I'd stay in the jungle, but just a few hundred
feet in, if that.  I'd try and keep the road in sight.  I sure as hell
didn't want to get lost out here.

   I put maybe a quarter mile between me and the truck.  I knew the truck
had food and shit in it, and I wanted to come back at night and get some
supplies.  And bullets, I sure as hell wanted more bullets.  I finally made
a little nest in a clump of bushes and snoozed as best I could until
twilight.  The bugs bothered me more than I thought they would, and some
kind of creepy-crawly rat-looking thing bothered me off and on.  I finally
smashed it with the butt of my gun.

   When it got suitably dark I tried to find the truck.  These guys
nowdays, with that night vision shit...  they don't know how good they got
it.  After a few false tries I located the truck and camped out in the
bushes and watched it or rather listened to it.  Nobody bothered it or me
and after a sliver of moon came up I crept up to it.  I carefully pulled
myself in the back, under the tarp, and then made sure the tarp was down
and closed.  I flipped my Zippo, and spent a minute gathering shit up.  I
found a larger pack, and filled it and strapped it on.  I closed the
lighter, and waited a while so my eyes would get used to the dark again,
and crept out and back into the jungle.

   Even with that little moon, it was so goddam dark I was totally lost.  I
just went back into the jungle and camped out for the night, laying on my
pack, trying to snooze a little.  Hours later, about the time I thought the
sun should be coming up, I heard the voices.

   Very soft and low, but voices.  I strained to hear, quietly sitting up
and holding my rifle, and at last I heard what I thought was Japanese
speech.  I was gratified to be this close to them, close enough to hear
them, and them not know I was there.  I'll blast the bastards, I thought.
Yeah, in complete blackness.  After that, that few seconds of mumbled
speech, I heard nothing else and at last the sun came up.  I was surprised
to find myself barely twenty-five feet from the truck, basically out in the
open.  Well shit, I thought, and moved quietly back into the jungle.  Maybe
an hour later I saw a split second's glimpse of a figure behind the truck,
but before I could sight in on him he was gone.  I never saw anything again
and I finally assumed they had left the area.  It was afternoon before I
was brave enough to move, and then I crept through the jungle like a crab,
trying to look all around me as I moved.  By nightfall I was exhausted, and
I slept like a baby in spite of trying to talk myself into waking up every
hour to listen for trouble.  I was disgusted to wake up as the sky
brightened, and I got all my stuff together and gave up on the skulking and
just walked away.  I tried to follow my plan of paralleling the road but it
was difficult since the road was so overgrown and crooked.

   I saw the footprints in a open area of sand, and stopped to stare at
them.  They had to be fairly fresh, because it rained here every afternoon.
Was I following Cross-Eye?  There were two sets of prints.  Well, I'd heard
talking last night...  he probably wasn't talking to himself.  Maybe he had
a buddy or a helper or something.  I knew some snipers hunted in teams. 
Maybe the japs did, also.

   Could I catch him?  Could I sneak up behind them?  Could I stalk him and
take him out?  Could I kill the fucker?  Oh, that would be too much.  I
knew a little about tracking, I'd hunted deer and boars and all kinds of
critters, growing up in Arkansas.  People...  hunting people shouldn't be
that different, except that people could shoot back if they figured out I
was sneaking up on them.

   The prints would be easy to follow.  Before I started I went through my
packs and threw out unnecessary stuff, and secured everything else so
nothing on me rattled or made noises.  Yeah, I'd do it, I'd hunt this
fucker and either put a bullet in his ass or get one in mine.  I'd try to
avenge my buddies, and do a favor for Uncle Sam.  I went back to the truck,
dragged Rodney into the jungle and buried him.  I painted my face with some
camo shit I'd had in my pack.  The hunt began.

                                --==+==-

   Okay, I could tell you the whole story, I could bore you to death with
details, with isolated memories of spending the day in treetops or beneath
piles of brush, of spending hours creeping across open ground with bushes
tied all around me...  the whole thing went on for two weeks, I figger.  By
the time it was over, I'd lost all track of time, of even what day it
was... almost even who or what I was at times...  I just lived for the
hunt.

   Stalking someone takes you out of the regular day-to-day grind, and
takes you to a place where normal shit don't mean anything.  Like, sitting
for twelve hours covered with brush, waiting for a second's glimpse of your
quarry.  You'd die of boredom ordinarily, but stalking takes you to a whole
different place.  It's a whole different mindset, as they say now.  Your
mind goes into a slow mode or something, I don't know how to explain it. 
It takes so much out of you that I'm not sure if I could do it on a regular
basis, but I managed real well that time.  I seemed to know what to do and
where to be.  And I gotta admit, I was a little cross-eyed myself.  I shot
at him twice and missed, though the range was pretty extreme both times. 
The Garand ain't that great on elevation and windage, it's more of a
close-up weapon.  That bullet, though...  when it hits, it hits hard.

   They figured out somehow, and fairly quickly, that I was stalking them.
They split up and rejoined.  They laid in wait for me once, and I have a
hole in my pack to prove it.  Good ol' Cross-Eye.  By the night I snuck up
to his fire and got his head in my peep-sight I almost felt an affection
for him.  I had to wonder if he'd just given up, building a fire and then
sitting barely hidden in shadow...  was he tired of the game?  Did he
realize that I was going to win no matter what?  I have no idea.  Yeah, I
felt a little affection for his stupid ass...  but I squeezed the trigger
and he slumped forward, most of his head gone.  The 30.06 is a brutal
round. The game was over.  I had killed his pack-boy two days earlier, and,
like I said, I think he just gave up after that.  I think I was tenacious
enough that he knew he wasn't getting away from me.  I think he knew it was
time to just end it.  Still, to this day, on a random day in May I drink a
toast to him.  My enemy, my own personal enemy.  God rest his soul. 
Goodbye, you little yellow slant-eyed fuck.

   I slept for two days after that.  Bugs crawled all over me, and a skinny
flea-bitten dog was laying between my legs when I woke up.  I laughed and
the mutt took off like a firecracker and I never saw him again.  Dogs, I
told myself.  They got dogs out here, in the jungle.

   I went through Cross-Eye's shit.  Coffee...  fuck, he had coffee.  I'd
thought those guys only liked tea.  I dragged his poor dead ass a few
hundred feet into the jungle, and re-lit his fire with my Zippo.  Damn,
that coffee tasted good.  I drank a whole pot of the shit.  I just sat
there for the rest of that day, my mind blank, and drank coffee.  That
evening I spent an hour digging a hole in the sand and dropped him in it.

   The next day I tried to get my shit together and move out.  I was awake
early enough to see where the sun came up, so I figured I knew which way
East was.  I packed up my stuff and what of Cross-Eye's I wanted and
started out, hoping to intersect the road at some point.  By that evening I
was disappointed, and more lost that ever.

   It felt like I spent a week in that jungle just wandering around.  I
don't think my mind was completely recovered from the hunt.  Fuck, I
finally thought...  this island ain't big enough to spend the rest of my
life being lost on.  I was living on crackers and some kind of Japanese
bread or cake by then, and getting pretty hungry for some real food.  To my
amazement, one morning I stepped into a clearing and was stared down by an
angry-looking group of wild pigs.  But an angry pig is no match for 200
grains of copper-clad lead moving at 2570 feet per second.  The rest of the
pigs scattered, and I started a fire with my lighter and began sharpening
my bayonet on a rock.

   The pig tasted great.  Greasy as hell, but that just made it all the
better.  The fire sizzled and crackled as fat dripped into it.  Damn, the
whole jungle smelled great after that.  I worried a little bit about what
might smell it and come to visit.  Did big cats live on these islands?  I
didn't know about that, but the thought of it made me a little nervous.  I
kept my rifle close, and ate more roasted pig.  Damn, I thought, if I just
had a cold beer.

   No big cats came to visit, but a pussy cat did.  Some movement caught my
eye, and I looked up, grabbing my rifle.  My heart stopped, and started
again.

   It was just a kid.  Out here, in the middle of the jungle...  in the
middle of nowhere.  A goddam kid.  I laughed, relaxing, and shook my head.
It was a she, a girl...  she just stared at me, from maybe forty feet away.
Or I thought she stared at me.  As I stared at her I realized she wasn't
staring at me, she was staring at my roasting pig.  My beautiful aromatic
roasting pig.

   I turned and bent and sliced her off a large chunk of lovely white meat.
I held it out to her.  She hadn't moved a muscle, after she'd appeared in
front of me.  She stood there like a little statue.  I held the meat out,
and moved towards her.  She moved back almost automatically, keeping the
same distance between us.  Okay, I thought, okay.  I took a few more steps,
and laid the portion on a large eucalyptus leaf on the ground.  I returned
to my spot near the fire, and sat.  The girl slowly came forward, until the
leaf with the meat on it was at her feet.  Then she just stood there.

   I finally turned, and hummed to myself and stared off into space for a
minute.  When I turned back she was thirty feet away again, daintily eating
the chunk of pig meat.  Good, I thought.  Good.

   Where had she come from?  Did she live close?  Who did she live with?  A
million questions went through my head.  I looked at her critically, trying
to learn anything about her I could just from seeing her.  She was bare,
except for a small strip of cloth between her legs.  She might have been
anywhere between eight and twelve...  it's hard to tell about these little
brown kids.  Brown...  her skin was the most lovely smoothest creamy brown
imaginable.  Lovely, she was just lovely.  I felt...  I felt a peculiar
attraction to her.  I wanted to touch her, to run my hands over her
wonderful skin.

   She had long straight jet-black hair, and huge brown eyes.  Her lips
were fat and brown.  Her nose was just a little bump, cuter than hell.  Her
chest was flat but her little brown nipples were puffed out nicely.  She
was small, four feet and a few, and way too skinny.  I cut another piece of
pig, and held it out to her.  She regarded me solemnly, not moving.  I
shook it.

   "Darlin'," I said, "please don't make this hard.  I'm too tired to get
up every time.  Please just c'mere and take it."

   At that time I had no idea if she understood English or not, but I think
she got my drift at least.  She slowly came forward, her feet and legs
moving almost imperceptibly.  At last she slowly reached out, leaning
towards me, and I handed her the meat.  She slowly moved back maybe ten
feet, and stood and stared at me as she ate.  A third and fourth piece
followed the same way.

   I tried to talk to her, I really did.  All I know is English though. 
For all I know she's deaf, I thought finally.  She never acknowledged
anything I said in the slightest.  Okay, I finally thought.  I guess I
don't need to talk to her to feed her.

   When she finally seemed to have enough we just faced each other for a
while, staring.  I was sitting, and she was standing.  Finally I patted the
ground beside me.  "Sit!" I told her.  "Sit."

   She regarded me for another minute, and finally slowly folded her legs
and sat.  Not next to me as I'd asked, but about ten feet away.  That was
okay, it just made me tired to see her standing for so long.

   I had an idea.  I reached in my pack, and pulled out my harmonica.  At
the first note, she jumped about ten feet in the air, in a sitting
position. It was so funny I had to stop and laugh, and she honestly looked
so offended at my laughter that I forced myself to stop.  Then she looked
puzzled.  I tried again, a little softer this time, and played "Down in the
Valley" for her.  By the end she was smiling, and she seemed pleased.  She
actually nodded when I got done, and I laughed.  Nope, she wasn't deaf. 
Good.  I played a few more songs for her.

   I stopped and made a pot of coffee, using the last of my grounds.  As I
took the pot off the flames, I noticed she had somehow moved a few feet
closer.  By the time it had cooled she was closer yet.  I finally filled my
tin cup, and took a sip.  Damn, but that stuff tasted good.  I held the cup
out to her.  She scooted forward, wiggling her butt somehow, and took the
cup cautiously.  Without her eyes ever leaving mine, she took a hesitant
sip.  She made a face and handed the cup back.  Okay, so she didn't like
coffee.  I wished I had some sugar, some kids liked sugared coffee.  Oh
well.

   That was it, we passed the evening in companionable silence, although at
times I did talk to her.  She never replied in any language, or even gave
me any indication she heard me, as she'd done before.  That was okay, it
was just nice to have somebody to talk to after the last month of
isolation, even if they didn't talk back.  I enjoyed her company.  I
wondered how long she'd hang around.  As the night drew down and twilight
fell, she still showed no indication of leaving, though.

   "I'm Bill," I finally said to her loudly.  I motioned to myself. 
"Bill." I started to say, "William," but I figured that would just confuse
her.  I said it a half dozen times, pointing to my chest.  She stared at me
blankly.  I wondered if the tiniest bit of it was getting through.

   "Bill!  Bill, dammit!" I said, giving up.  She stared at me.  I was
silent.  Maybe we'd just have to do without names, I decided.

   "Beel dammit," she said, mimicking me great on the cuss word.  The Bill
needed some work.  I smiled, pleased, and said "Bill" a few dozen more
times.  Again, when I finally stopped, when I shut up, she said "Bill,"
just as I'd hoped she would.

   Well, that worked.  I was pleased.  I motioned to her, and then held my
arms up.  I thought my body English was clear.  I wanted to know her name.

   She had to think a while on that one, though.  I did it a few dozen
times and a few different ways.  At some point, I thought, she'd just have
to figure it out.

   "Meee-sha," she suddenly said.  I perked up.  Beautiful!

   "Mischa?" I said back, hopeful.

   "Mischa," she replied.  Great, now I knew her name.  And it was
beautiful.  I wanted to hug her, but I kept my distance.

   I tried to get a few more things across to her, without any luck.  Like,
where were her parents, shit like that.  Stuff that's really hard to get
across, obviously.  Most of the time she just stared at me blankly.  I
finally gave up when I realized I could barely see her face in the gloom. I
built the fire back up, wishing I'd spent more time that evening collecting
firewood.  I settled in for the night, wondering what she would do, if she
would go or stay.

   A few minutes later I turned to her, and she was gone.  Oh well, I
thought.  It was fun while it lasted.  But only moments later she appeared
out of the night, and settled down on the sand even closer to me.  Pee
break, I figgered.  She was within arm's length now, and I was pleased. 
She stared into the fire, looking like her mind was a million miles away. I
wondered, I wondered hard about her.  Who she was, where she came from, if
she had parents, if they had been killed...  there was a million questions.


   "Mischa," I said.  She looked at me.

   "Goodnight," I said.  "Goodnight, darlin'." I had collected a large
batch of palm fronds, and made a nest of sorts with them.  I motioned to
it. "You can sleep with me, darlin'...  if you wish..." I didn't expect her
to understand that, and I'm sure she didn't.  I made a "come here" motion,
at least, hoping.  She gave me her usual inscrutable stare.  I sat in the
middle of my nest and held my arms out to her, and then hugged myself.  I
could almost swear I saw the tiniest of smiles on her face.  Well, I
thought, I tried.  I lay back, covering myself as best I could, and tried
to go to sleep.

   I jumped.  Something had touched my foot.  It was blacker than ink. 
But...  then I smelled her.  I smelled the girl.  I'd never smelled her
before, I hadn't gotten that close to her yet, but...  I smelled her.  And
she smelled more wonderful than anything I'd smelled in my whole life, I
think.  I just laid there and breathed her in as she settled beside me,
barely disturbing me, barely making a dent in my nest of palm fronds.  She
scooted closer and closer to me, and at last, with great satisfaction, I
felt her body contact mine.  On my upper legs, my stomach...  and at last
my chest.  She was silent then, and still.  I couldn't even hear her
breathing.  I quietly sucked air in through my nose, smelling her, though.
She smelled incredible.  I cannot describe it, other than to say it was
wonderful.  I loved her, in that instant, more than I had ever loved
anything, even Ellie Miranda, back home.  And Ellie Miranda had let me
stick my hand up beneath her dress.  This girl...  this almost nameless,
almost anonymous jungle girl, this little girl...  I loved her.  I
desperately hopelessly loved her.  I had no idea who she really was, or
even what, really...  whether she'd been born here, or come her in a
canoe...  who knows.  Who cares.  I just, at that moment, and maybe just
for that moment, loved her.

   What felt like an hour later I carefully and slowly lay my arm across
her body, and began the process of hugging her to myself.  It went well,
and at last I had the satisfaction of feeling her warm little body in my
arms.  I felt happy, I felt like I had accomplished something that was very
desirable to me.  I have no idea why...  was it just because I was lonely?
Because I hadn't seen another human in a month?  Well, I had, but I'd
killed them both...  I have no idea why, to this day, why I loved a little
girl so dearly, a little girl that I'd just met.  But I did.  I didn't
worry overly much about it...  maybe it'd be gone by morning.  Maybe she
would.  I didn't know and oddly I didn't really care.  I just loved her,
that night, and I finally went to sleep happy, with her in my arms.

                                --==+==-

   I awoke early, as I always do.  It was barely light, but I could see
plainly.  Directly before me, so close she was almost blurry, the face of
the child I loved was positioned.  On impulse, I leaned forward an inch and
kissed her gently on the mouth.  Her eyes flew open and she scrambled
backwards, out of my arms, and finally stopped a dozen feet away.  She
stared at me accusingly, as if I'd done something offensive to her.  Maybe
I had.  But I stared back, and smiled at her.

   "Good mornin', darlin'!" I said, still smiling.  She stared at me. 
Finally, slowly, she smiled.  And oh god, was she ever beautiful when she
smiled.  I mean, she was beautiful before...  but when she smiled my heart
just ached.  She was, I thought at that moment and still do, she was and is
the most beautiful thing on the planet.  Nothing comes close.  Mischa,
Mischa, I thought.  I love you.  I love you.

   I told her that.  I knew she didn't understand it, but I told her that.
Over and over, until I think she'd finally heard it enough and maybe she
actually knew what I meant.  But I didn't expect it to mean anything to
her, and I don't think at that time it did.  But I wanted her to know it.

   I finally got up and found some firewood.  I built the fire up, and
heated us some pork and warmed up what was left of my coffee for breakfast.
She ate once again like she was famished, and I wondered how long she'd
been out here in the jungle on her own.  Just a day?  Or months?  At this
point, there was no way to know.

   And, I wondered...  were we a pair, now?  Was she going to stay with me?
I hoped, oh god I hoped so.  I wanted her, I wanted her company bad...  at
that time I didn't have any...  any ulterior motives.  I just wanted her to
stay with me.

                                --==+==-

   I still loved her pretty strong in the morning.  And to my great
pleasure, it looked like she was going to stay.  I wondered if that meant
her parents were dead or something.  Anyway, we packed up and moved out. 
Where were we going?  That I wasn't too sure about.  The camp, the big
camp, with the airstrip...  that was actually the only reasonable
destination.  I steered us north.  We'd finally hit the beach, I'd leave a
marker, and we'd start either East or West.  If we didn't find the base,
we'd go the other way.  It might take a while, but we really had nothing
but time on our hands.

   Mischa traveled well.  She carried my small pack, she insisted, in fact,
being pretty insistent without speaking a word.  I finally let her have it,
and off we went.  I reckoned we were heading due North.  Maybe two hours
went by, and suddenly Mischa stopped.  Her face had the strangest
expression on it...  I can't describe it, kind of sadness mixed with
resoluteness...  I know that's a lot to read from a kid's face.  But that's
what I felt from her.

   Then, the most surprising thing.  Suddenly she opened her mouth, and
talked.  Not like last night, when she'd said my name.  Long complete
sentences.  She stared at me, into my eyes, and talked to me seriously. 
Sadly, I didn't understand a word of it...  but I kinda got her drift.  It
was important to her, whatever it was.

   I nodded again and again.  I told her "Yes" a hundred times.  I wanted
to reassure her, to comfort her.  Something had bothered or upset her, I
felt like.  She got more and more serious, almost in my face, and chattered
away.

   At last I just leaned down and hugged her body to mine.  Weirdly, she
let me.  I crouched, bent over, and held her.  When she finally pulled
back, still talking, I could see tears in her eyes.  That choked me up a
little, and I grabbed her again.  At long last she pulled back again, still
talking.

   "Yes!" I said.  "Yes." I motioned in front of us.  If she wanted to go
somewhere, let her.  If she wanted to show me something, so be it.  She
stopped talking, and nodded.  She took off into the jungle, looking back to
see if I was following.  She led us forward in a straight line.

   We came out in a clearing.  Primitive huts were scattered about, maybe
twenty of them.  Immediately I saw a body, face down and obvious dead. 
Were these her people?  Was this her village?  She seemed to know the way
right to it...

   The smell of death was thick in the air.  Not extremely strong, but
unmistakeable.  People had died her, or had died and were still here.

   "Mischa..." I said.  She twitched, I knew she heard me, but she didn't
turn.  She stared at the figure on the ground.

   "Mischa, darling..." I tried again.  She finally afforded me a glance,
but her gaze returned to the body before us.

   "I'm here for you, baby..." I finished lamely.  I didn't really know
what to say, and it bothered me, although I knew it didn't matter since she
couldn't understand me.

   At last she slowly approached the figure.  But she went right on by it,
to a hut.  She stopped at the entryway, and then looked at me again.  I
nodded encouragingly.  She went in.  I cautiously followed her, into the
mouth of hell.

   There were maybe sixteen or twenty dead people in the hut.  Flies buzzed
about.  Insects and even tiny crabs crawled on the bodies.  From the very
old to the very young, they lay in dignified silence.  In the stifling heat
of noon on a tropical island, I stared at something that never should have
happened.

   Oh god, I thought.  Don't let this be my guys.  Don't let this be done
by Americans, or by allied forces.  A thought occurred to me, and I looked
at the floor.  Within moments I found one.  A empty shell casing.  Sure
enough, to my great relief, on the butt end of it was those scraggly hen
scratches that only a jap can read.  I was still sad, but relieved.

   War didn't mean what it used to.  No one was safe, now.  Civilians
weren't safe.  Some of the stuff coming out of Europe had turned our
stomachs.  And we'd seen a little of it here, even.  The japs were brutal
and harsh.  That forced our hand, it forced us to be cruel and heartless,
too.  The articles of war didn't mean what they used to.  The Great War
almost seemed friendly, compared to this one.

   She stopped.  At her feet, a man and woman crouched, hugging each other,
their faces to the ground.  A bullet wound was plainly evident on the man's
back.  It was obvious they had been dead a week or more.

   I heard a tiny noise from Mischa.  I touched her shoulder.  She turned
to me, and I took her in my arms.  She just spent a minute in my arms, but
to me, in spite of the terrible sight and the horrible smell, it was heaven
to hold her in my arms.  I forced myself to remember why this was
happening, it was obvious her family had died at the hands of the Japanese.
I felt a great sympathy for her.  She's just a kid, goddammit!  I told
someone or something in my head.  She's just a kid!

   At last she pulled away.  She turned, and we marched from the hut.  She
kept on going, heading right into the jungle.

   "Mischa!" I said loudly and she stopped.  I had an idea, and dammit...
it just should be done.  I made a digging motion, until I remembered she
probably had never seen a shovel before.  Shit.  No shovel.  I'd originally
had a plan to bury all the villagers, but I'd do her parents first and see
how it went.  She had stopped and turned and was regarding me with
curiosity.  I motioned her back to the village.

                                --==+==-

   It didn't go well.  The soil here was much harder than the sand-like
stuff at Cross-Eye's camp.  Mischa helped me, and we finally got a hole
suitable for her parents, or what I had assumed was her parents.  The ones
she really seemed to care about.  She didn't want to touch them, and I
understood.  They weren't large people, luckily, and I got them in the hole
at last.  We paused for a while, and I felt her hand creep into mine.  I
spoke a few words, stuff I'd remembered from other people's funerals, and
at last we began scraping soil onto the bodies.  I let her do the woman,
and she left her face uncovered until the end.  She suddenly pulled a mound
of soil over it, and said "Ichee-me!  Galde-as Ichee-me!" with rage in her
voice.  I understood, though I didn't understand exactly what she said.  We
finished, and I constructed two crosses out of bamboo and we placed them.
We stood for a moment, looked at each other and then walked away.

   She seemed different, for the rest of that day.  I noticed, and I
understood.  As I understood it, I'd helped her bury her parents.  That
would affect anybody, especially a kid.

   That night we made a camp, and settled in.  I gathered a good bunch of
firewood, before the sun went down, and we built a large fire.  We settled
before the fire, and I heated some pork.  We ate in silence.

   "Mischa," I said.  "I'm sorry.  I'm glad I was able to help, though."

   She turned and stared at me, inscrutable as ever.  Then she slowly
nodded.  I felt like she knew what I'd said.  I fixed her some pork, and
gave her a drink out of my canteen.  We hunkered down for the night.  She
was sitting closer and closer to me, to my delight, and tonight out arms
touched occasionally.  At last, as it began to get cool, I motioned to her
to come sit in my lap.  She regarded me again with that gaze for a few
moments, and then approached, and carefully settled on my legs.  I was
happy.  We stared into the fire, and thought our separate thoughts, though
most of mine were about her.  I felt like I knew more about her, now. 
But.. what now?  Was she mine, now?  Was she planning on staying with me?
It looked like she had no people left, unless some of them had fled into
the jungle.  But surely they would have returned by now, unless they now
considered the village haunted or something.  It looked like it had been
between a week or two since the massacre.  Plus, the japs had been on the
run even longer than that.  It made no sense to me, to kill off the
village. Not that anything like that could ever have a valid excuse.  War.
I was tired of war.  I hoped it was almost over.

   I felt her warmth on my stomach and chest.  My back was cool from the
night air, but the girl felt good in front of me.  The fire crackled.  I
thought.  This, I thought.  This would be enough.  I could just stay out
here in the jungle.  Be a deserter, though I'd probably be caught someday
and sent to prison or something.  But...  I could be happy, out here, with
her.  I wished it could happen.

   We finally lay down on a nest of palm fronds, and I wrapped my arms
around her.  She didn't seem to care.  I could never hear the child
breathe, she breathed so softly, but I felt her chest move.  I nodded off,
thinking once again of her.

                                --==+==-

   Mornings are never pleasant, except when you wake up with a beautiful
girl in your arms.  I just laid there a while, drinking her in, loving her
even more.  At last she opened her eyes, and giggled to see me staring into
her face.  I did it again, I leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth,
and she just giggled this time.  I was pleased.  We got up, had some ham
for breakfast, and set off.

   Way too soon we found the road.  I recognized the stretch of it, and
knew we were just a few miles from camp.  Late that afternoon we arrived,
after a fairly exhausting day of walking, me carrying Mischa on my
shoulders most of the way.  Weirdly, the camp seemed deserted from a
distance.  No trucks, no assault vehicles...  and at the gate, the guard
shack was empty.  Well, it wasn't a shack, just a roof to keep the sun off
a guy's head.  Anyway.  We walked unchallenged into the camp.

   After a few minutes I had to face it.  It was deserted, abandoned. 
Well, we'd done that the last island we took, killed all the japs and moved
on.  We didn't have the manpower to fill every little island with troops.
And this wasn't really a strategic point in the area, just an island the
japs had been based on, for unknown reasons.

   I look Mischa into the mess hall, to see if anything had been left.  Not
a lot had.  We found some bread and crackers...  and to my delight, three
bottles of beer.

   "Mischa," I said.  "Baby.  We're gonna celebrate tonight!" We spent the
rest of the evening looking for stuff to scavenge, but there wasn't a lot.
The clean-up squad had been pretty thorough.  We settled into a barracks
where I'd found a single broken cot, and I spent an hour rendering it
sleepable again.

   I broke out some pig meat, and we had a little dinner.  I wondered, as I
ate, what would I do now?  Just live here, with her?  That's what I'd
thought I wanted, the other night.  Now that I was staring it in the face,
it didn't seem so desirable.  After the war...  I'd always thought, after
the war, that I'd go back to Montgomery County and help my mom and dad with
the farm.  Now?  Was I destined to live the rest of my life on a little
rock in the Pacific that just had a number for a name?  Would the army or
navy ever come back?  Worse, would the japs?

   I popped the top off a beer.  Even warm, it tasted great.  I took
another sip.  I looked down.  Mischa was staring up at me like a little
puppy dog underneath the kitchen table.  I laughed.

   "Awww..." I said.  I looked at the beer, and then held it out to her. 
She grabbed it eagerly and took a big long sip.

   "Damn, girl..." I said.  "You're just a kid.  You need to slow down..."

   We sat there on that damn cot and downed all three of those beers.  I
tried to get her to take it easy, but she seemed to love the taste of the
stuff.  I could tell real quick it was affecting her, she giggled
endlessly, and crawled all over me.  That I liked, at least.

   It was finally dark, and the beers were gone.  I pulled her onto the
cot, and damn, that thing was narrow.  She was just a skinny little kid,
but there wasn't near enough room for the both of us.  I finally pulled her
up on top of me, and she lay there, giggling, trying to balance.  I didn't
want her to walk so I kept her in bed.  She was pretty tanked, and I bet
she would have just fallen over if she'd been on her feet.

   We lay there, in the dark.  Her breath was in my face.  It smelled like
pork and beer, and that indefinable essence of little girl.  I loved it,
and I loved her.  The night was gentle, warm and romantic.  There's nothing
like the south sea islands for romance.  Romance...  shit, what did I know
about that?  Nothing, damn near nothing.  I'd kissed a few girls, but that
was about it.  Kiss...  shit, at least I knew how to kiss.  I leaned
forward, pulling her head down, and our lips touched.

   She was quiet while we kissed, and then she giggled again.  I pulled her
down again, and again.  We kissed for longer and longer.  She seemed to be
loving it as much as I was.  At last I just plastered my mouth to hers, and
kept it there.  I touched her lips with my tongue.  Giggles again.  At last
I felt her little tongue in my mouth.  It was heaven.  My cock was already
harder than a iron rod.  I knew I'd have to sneak off after she went to
sleep and relieve myself.  One way or the other, it would just have to
happen.

   My hands were on her side, steadying her.  I slid them lower and lower,
until...  until I touched her bottom.  Her bare, almost naked, fat little
bottom.  Oh god, the feelings I had then.  I just almost couldn't stand it.
I rubbed and massaged her rump, glorying in the feel of it on my fingers.
She didn't seem to care, her tongue was still in my mouth.  After maybe
twenty minutes of this, I just couldn't stand it any longer.  I pulled at
the string that kept her loincloth around her waist.  She said something
into my mouth, I have no idea what, but it sounded like a "yes" to me.  I
felt around in front, and found the knot that held her cloth on.  It came
apart quickly, and I threw the whole thing in the floor.  I was in bed with
a naked girl!  I'd tried to pull that one off for the last few years, and
never succeeded.  Now what, though?

   We just lay and kissed, and I played with her butt.  I felt deeper and
deeper into it, into her sweaty little crack, and finally I touched her...
her asshole.  God, that turned me on.  I began to rub it, and she made more
noises in my mouth.  She had never pulled away from me in the slightest
this whole time.  I felt like she wanted this as much as I did.  I know
that doesn't justify it, what I did...  but it sure as hell made it
impossible to stop.

   At last I raised my finger to my mouth, and, stopping the kisses for an
instant, stuck it in my mouth.  Her taste was incredible, just out of this
world.  I almost came at that moment.  I licked my finger, and stuck it
back down to her butt.  I pressed it into her body slowly, as the kissing
resumed.  It felt...  it felt sexier than hell, to feel her tight ring of
flesh around my finger.  I pushed it in as deep as I could, and she
squirmed in my arms and giggled more.  I began slowly running it in and
out, and she seemed to relax and enjoy the feeling.  I literally felt her
little asshole relax, it got a bit looser on my finger as I sawed in and
out of her.

   I had a thought, and as I pumped her butt I reached my thumb forward to
where I thought maybe that spot on a girl is, that spot that feels so good
when you rub it.  My first (and only) girlfriend back home, Ellie, had let
me do that occasionally, and I'd even made her cum a few times.  I swear me
and Ellie were just days away from...  from doing it, having sex, when the
army grabbed me.  I'd hoped she'd let me do it that last night, but I think
she chickened out.  And we both knew her old man was right inside, with a
shotgun.  That kinda put the damper on things.

   Anyway, this little girl...  nothing seemed too wild for her.  I felt
her body tremble and her legs shake as I stroked her little pussy and
pumped her butt.  She bit my lip, even, at one point.  I had to wonder what
she'd seen, living in that little shack with her parents, if she'd ever
seen them make love.  I knew the natives on these islands were pretty
liberal about stuff like that...  some of the guys in my squad had even
got, ahem...  fucked by some of the island girls.  I didn't have anything
to trade, though, and...  I'm still a little shy, I guess.  I wasn't shy
that night with Mischa, though.

   By now stuff was oozing out of my cock like crazy.  My pants felt like
I'd peed in them, almost.  I had to wiggle around and get a bit more
comfortable, she was laying right on my cock, almost grinding it into my
crotch.  It felt sexy, though, crazy sexy.

   At last I think she came, to my surprise.  She moaned and writhed on top
of me, and I could feel sweat on her body.  My finger was ploughing in and
out of her asshole like an oil derrick, as my thumb rubbed her clit and my
other hand squeezed a buttock.  It was, bar none, the sexiest thing I'd
ever done in my life, and I had to stop and think for a second...  a kid?
You're doing this with a kid, who ain't even got tits yet?  What's wrong
with you?  But I only wasted a second on that one.  It was sexy, fuck
heaven it was sexy.  Of course it was...  it was the sexiest thing I'd ever
done.

   It took some work, but I finally got my lips wrapped around one of her
sexy little bloated nipples.  She didn't have any tits yet, but her nipples
were shaping up nicely.  They were fat and puffy, little mouthfuls of
heaven.  I scraped my teeth against it, and then kissed and sucked it.  She
squirmed and moaned and I took that as a positive sign.  I made love to her
nipples with my mouth as I fingered her clit and pounded her asshole.  I
don't know about her, but there was so much going on that my brain just
seemed to overload at times.

   When I felt her cum, I came.  I pressed her against my cock, and just
blasted myself with what felt like gallons of cum.  I used to jack off out
behind the pig shed and other places, and I never remember this much coming
out.  Well, 'course I never felt it on me, like that.  Maybe a little feels
like a lot.  Anyway, it was one of the best cums I've ever had in my whole
life, although I wasn't inside anything.  It was great.  I slowed my finger
in her butt, and finally stopped and pulled it out.  She seemed willing to
just lay there, her head beside me, and this time I could hear her
breathing; she was panting like a racehorse.  I laughed softly, and she
laughed back.  I touched her little butt, and resumed gently squeezing it.
I felt real messy down there, but I dealt with it.

   I had it in my head, now, to wonder if I could...  uhm...  fuck this
little girl.  I'm not proud of that thought, and I admit I shouldn't have
had it.  At least not that soon.  But I wanted her, bad.  I wanted to fuck
her.  I wondered about her little pussy, if it could take my dick.  I'm no
giant, but I'm not a midget, either.  When my football class would jerk off
together in the showers and I got to see other guy's dicks and I wasn't
embarrassed, I was probably bigger than well over half the class.  I felt
like I was in the above-average category.  I know my real girlfriend,
Bessie Mae, was always more than satisfied with me.

   Sorry, that's a story I won't tell.  Well, maybe I will...  since this
seems to be all about confessions by now.  Okay, I'm not actually a
virgin...  I fucked my Bessie Mae maybe a few hundred or more times. 
Bessie lived on the farm with me, and she was my best pal, from almost
before I can remember.  She was an American Yorkshire, and came from a good
healthy bloodline.  My grandpa had bought her sire before I was born.  My
dad gave her to me when she was just a tiny little piglet.  I raised her
and she followed me everywhere.  I was glad later, though, that she
couldn't talk, 'cos when I turned twelve and my cock started working she
was the most convenient place to put it.  And she was the perfect height
when I was on my knees.  I fucked her many times at night down in the hog
barn, but the best times were out in the pasture, beneath the stars, where
there wasn't so much pig shit to look out for, and where it was just the
two of us.  Bessie knew what I liked, she'd oink and back up to me, and I'd
slide my dick into her little pig cunt...  we never bred her, that's why I
think she was so tight.  Bessie was a good fuck, and I had hopes of finding
a gal just as good.  I wondered now if I had.  And I hope mom and dad are
looking after Bessie, back on the farm.  She's an old lady pig by now, but
I still love her.

   I just held Mischa that night as she slept.  I had to hold her, she
didn't stay on top of me very well if I didn't.  I think I got a little
sleep, at least.  When I finally opened my eyes the room was light.  Once
again I just lay there and watched Mischa until she woke up.

                                --==+==-

   Mischa didn't feel so great that next morning, I could tell.  I even
laughed at her, though that sounds mean.  She grinned up and me and held
her head.  I tried to explain about hangovers to her, but I don't think it
got through.  I had begun a program to teach her English a few days ago,
but we weren't making much progress yet.  She didn't really seem to care.

   We puttered around the base, and looked for more stuff.  To my surprise
and great pleasure, in the command HQ I found a radio.  A working radio,
complete with a large dry cell battery.  It clicked on, and I spun the
dial, not hearing anything.  I wondered if they'd left it for guys like me,
that might have gotten lost out in the jungle.  I searched the band several
times, to no avail.  Everything seemed quiet.  I tried to remember what
frequencies were used the most, but came up with nothing.  They should have
left a book with the thing, it had so many knobs and switches on it.

   That afternoon we left the base, and walked into the jungle.  There was
something I wanted to show her, and I admit...  I had motives, this time.
Out, maybe two miles into the bush, was a place I'd visited with some of my
buddies.  It was a swimming hole, just like the ones back home, except way
more cleaner and more beautiful.  Mischa and I sat beside the creek and ate
the last of my pork, and some shoe-string potatoes we'd found in a can in
the canteen.  The creek was a hundred feet wide at this point, crystal
clear and sparkling.  A wonderfully beautiful but tiny waterfall was on the
opposite side.

   "Come on!" I told her, and began stripping my gear and clothes off.  She
regarded me with puzzlement, but at last she dropped her loincloth.  I got
to my pants, and my nerve gave out.  Could I just go into the water with my
pants on?  I already had a hard-on just from thinking about what I had
planned.  Was I ready to show it to her?  Surely she'd seen one before,
living in a one-room shack.  And from her actions last night, I wasn't
afraid of her running screaming into the jungle.  I finally just pulled my
pants down.  My cock, hard as ever, flopped out.  She just stared at it.  I
think she was almost smiling.

   "Into the water, girl!" I said, and she followed me.  The water felt
great, cool but not cold, and it felt good to take an actual bath, of
sorts. I had found a used bar of soap in the showers, and I scrubbed myself
down and rinsed.  It felt great in my hair.  Damn, I wish I'd found a
razor, though.

   "Come here!" I held my hands out to her, and she came.  She had watched
the soap thing I did with curiosity, and now I stood her up in the shallows
and soaped her down good.  Damn, she felt good beneath my hands, as I
rubbed her slick body down.  My dick had gone down a bit as I washed
myself, but now, feeling her in my hands, her slickness and the hardness of
her fat little nipples and the gentle softness of her little butt, I was
hard again, full strength.

   Her eyes strayed to my hard cock again and again.  Suddenly, while I was
doing her hair, I started as I felt something touch my dick.  It was her
soapy little hands, wrapping around it.  She just held it as I scrubbed her
head, not jacking me, but just holding me.  It still felt sexier than
anything anybody had ever done to me.  I knew I was just moments away from
cumming.

   I finished washing her down, and we moved to deeper water.  She rinsed
herself, and we even crossed the creek so she could sit beneath the
waterfall and rinse her long beautiful hair.  Finally we moved back to the
middle of the pool.  I took her in my hands and turned her until she
floated on the surface of the water like a log or an alligator.  I barely
supported her with my fingertips, and kept her above water.  She looked at
me and grinned.  l steered her around the swimming hole, even dunking her
beneath the waterfall at times.  She smiled and relaxed in my grasp,
seeming to be happy.  I moved further and further down her body, until I
was at her feet, and barely keeping her afloat.  Then I moved up inbetween
her legs, to the closest thing to heaven I've ever found on this earth. 
Her legs spread as I moved up them, and at last I was cuddled up against
her crotch, her legs spread widely, my fingertips supporting her body in
the middle of her back.

   "Darling," I said softly.  "I love you.  I love you, I love you." I
leaned down, and just stared.  She was more beautiful than anything I'd
ever seen before.  I'd never seen a girl like this, never once, though I
did feel Ellie Miranda down there.  Mischa was so fabulous and so beautiful
all I could do was just stare.  Her sweet little clit stared back at me,
standing high and proud.  I knew my tongue would soon press it back down.
Her pussy lips were fat and reddish-pink, and they disappeared into her
crack down near her asshole.  Her cute little asshole...  I had to spread
her a bit and pick her up some to see it...  but her cute little asshole
winked at me.  I just fell in love all over again.  Anything that looks
like this...  I'd love a pig this much, if it was this cute.  I loved that
little girl harder than I ever thought possible.

   Finally.  Finally, I thought.  The thing I wanted most in the world, I
think even more than straight-up fucking...  finally I put my face into her
sweetness, opened my mouth and touched her with my tongue.  There is no
describing the taste...  and she was still a little strong, in spite of
being in the water...  but damn, the girl had a taste.  A fabulous, very
good taste.  I licked her clit, and all up and down her lips.  I pulled her
up a little, and licked her asshole, and damn...  damn the girl tasted good
down there too.  She just blew me away.  I know you're probably getting
tired of all my superlatives...  but the girl was fabulous.

   I have no idea how long I licked her pussy.  Maybe twenty minutes, maybe
two hours.  She came once in the middle, and once again at the end, and I
was glad I'd done it for her.  At last I steered her to shallow water, and
she stood unsteadily.  We both laughed, and I helped her to shore.  We lay
on the little beach a while and dried off.  I was still as hard as a rock,
and as I lay there, my eyes closed, I felt her hands on me once again.  She
took hold of my cock, and like a seasoned professional she began to jack me
off.  Whether it was instinct or from watching someone else, I have no
idea...  maybe it just comes naturally...  but she did a good job.  Of
course, I was pretty close to start with.  Within a few dozen strokes I
just opened up, and squirted cum all over the place.  She just kept on
pumping.  At last she slowed and stopped, as my dick began to grow soft.  I
sat up, now I was the one that was unsteady.  But I felt great, it had been
a great orgasm, about as good as I'd ever had.  I thanked her profusely and
she giggled.  I wiped some cum off her arm and chest, and we lay back
again, in the hot sun.  I hugged her to my body, loving her just a little
bit more.  As the afternoon drew down, we finally walked slowly back to
camp.  We never even bothered putting our clothes back on.  I hugged her
little body to mine as we walked.  I loved her.

                                --==+==-

   We had a surprise waiting for us at camp.  A guy sat in a broken chair
outside the PX, laughing at us as we walked up.  I had stopped a few
hundred feet away when I'd first noticed him and put my pants back on.

   "Well, howdy!" he said.  "I wondered when you were gonna get back!"

   "Howdy," I said back.  I was a bit miffed that someone had shown up and
ruined my island paradise.

   "Well, gaw'choreself a little fuck doll, huh?" He wasn't done laughing
at me.

   "No, I haven't," I said.  I was a bit irritated at the guys manner.  "I
haven't, and I would never.  She's just a kid."

   He laughed and nodded.  "Oh, it's no big deal," he said.  "There's
nobody left to stop you.  They all done gone.  She's all yours, buddy."

   "What's your name?" I asked.

   "Sisyphus," he answered.  I guess he saw my skeptical look, because he
expounded on that.  "Well, that's not my given name.  It's just who I am,
now.  My old name, my old name...  that don't matter no more."

   "Were you with the 442nd?" I asked.  He seemed to perk up.

   "Yeah!" he said, preening at bit.  Then he slumped.  "Kinda...  I guess
I'm a quitter now, a deserter.  I just had enough...  know what I mean?  I
just couldn't do it any more."

   "Yeah," I said.  "Yeah, I know what you mean."

   I squatted in the sand, and talked to the guy.  Mischa wandered off, and
returned with what looked like a can of sardines with the key missing.  I
showed her how to scrub the top off on a flat rock, and she ground away
with gusto.  At last the top came off, and she shared them with me and
Sisyphus.

   He finally stood, as twilight settled in.  "Well, gotta go.  Long way to
get home," he said, and after a few more pleasantries we watched him leave.
He disappeared out the gate.  I led Mischa into our bunkhouse.

                                --==+==-

   I didn't plan anything that night, not after the afternoon at the
swimming hole.  But my little Mischa was warmed up and ready to play. 
After we had something to eat we settled down on our cot.  I had stripped
naked for bedtime, and she'd never had anything on since the swimming hole.
I lay down in the pitch black night, and felt her naked body crawl on top
of me.

   I loved her by now to an extreme that cannot be adequately described.  I
loved her more than anything I had ever loved.  She was my life.  I could
not imagine being without her.  Why?  I had asked myself that question many
times, and I had no answers.  It's just the way it was.  Criticize me if
you must; shake your head at me.  I accept all possible blame for loving a
girl too much.  She was my life.

   We lay in bed that night, and I ran my hands over her body.  I squeezed
and rubbed her butt, and rubbed her asshole.  I slid my finger down to her
little cunt, and played with her clit.  I pushed my finger a ways inside
her tight hole, but I didn't want to rupture her hymen, which I imagined I
could feet circling my fingertip.  She seemed to love my attentions, and
she wriggled on top of me, almost seeming impatient to me.  My hard cock
ground into her inner leg, the way that she was laying, and she seemed
intent on squeezing it against herself.

   At last she sat up, and I felt her body weight on my upper legs.  She
was doing something in the dark, I couldn't tell.  I suddenly felt her
hands on my hard cock.  She scooted forward, and I felt the head of my cock
touch her body.  Her soft, soft body...  I could easily tell, from her
position on top of me, where I was touching her.  Right on her sweet little
cunt.  I could feel her pulling me to her body, almost pushing my cock
inside her.  I could tell she wanted it, that she wanted to try.  I wanted
to try, too.

   "Oh, baby!" I said, and I gotta admit it choked me up.  "I love you!  I
love you!" I pulled her down to me, forward on my upper body, and hugged
her.  Our faces touched, and a second later our lips touched.  I wished for
the millionth time that I could just talk to her.  I kissed her again and
again.  I finally carefully turned on the cot, and let her body slide down
below me.  She lay there beneath me now, and I could feel that her legs
were spread wide, just like she knew how to do it.  Like she knew what was
coming next.

   I wiggled around a bit until I felt ready.  I leaned down into her, and
felt my cock touch her.  We were both ready, and our hands met as we
grabbed for it.  I let her have it, and went back to using my hands to
support myself.  I didn't want to crush her.  She guided my cock back to
her little pussy, and I felt her pussy surround me.  Damn, damn...  it felt
better than Bessie Mae ever did...  I'm sorry, Bessie, but it did...  damn,
did it ever...  I pressed deeper and deeper into her tightness.

   She was tight, fuck, was she ever tight.  I almost didn't get inside
her, she was so tight.  I waited for her to squeal or start crying or
something when I burst her maidenhead, but she never seemed to have any
pain from it.  I've heard some girls don't, and, I gotta admit, although I
examined her in detail more than once, I'm not sure what all those things
are down there.  Maybe that wasn't her hymen I had felt that first time I
fingered her.

   At last I felt like I was all the way inside her.  My crotch was
touching hers.  My hands were buried in her pliant but firm little ass, and
she felt fabulous beneath me.  She was too short for me to kiss as we
fucked, but I did kiss the top of her head.  To know I was really doing it,
and she really wanted it...  it was just too much.  I wondered if I would
have felt this great on top of a big girl.

   I just know that from the start to the finish, she seemed to enjoy what
we were doing.  She moved beneath me, she moved in time with me, and she
groaned and gasped for air and panted...  and she seemed to love it.  I
sure as hell loved it, I'd waited almost twenty years for this one...  my
whole life...  I'd been passed over and passed by enough times...  and now
the sweetest little girl in the world was doing it for me, taking my
virginity.  I was finally glad that I'd kept it all this time, just to lose
it to her.  We were both virgins...  I'm pretty sure she was, yes...  we
were both virgins, and we were losing it to each other.  How perfect is
that?

   I didn't know how long I could last, I was so pumped up.  I felt like I
was holding back, from the start.  I wanted her to cum, though, before I
did.  I wanted to do it for her.  I wanted her first to be something
memorable.

   And I think it was.  At last she drew a gasping sigh of a breath, and I
felt her trembling beneath me.  Her legs shook and I felt goose flesh on
her butt.  She jumped and jerked and cried out, and I finally relaxed and
squirted into her body.  Damn, it felt good...  it was the most intense
physical thing I'd ever felt, and it just seemed to go on and on...  she
did it for me, she did it big time.  She made me feel more like a man than
anything else ever had.  I loved her yet a little bit more for that.

   I didn't really know where to go after that.  I scooted over a little,
so I didn't crush her, and we lay there, panting for breath.  I whispered
silly things to her, and she giggled, somehow knowing.  Crickets chirped,
and outside, monkeys howled.  The night was young.  I knew somehow we'd do
this again, before the sun came up.  And maybe again.  I felt her arms
around me, and felt her warmth in the cool night air.  I nuzzled her
forehead with my chin, and felt her sweat on me.  I loved her, god, I loved
her.  There was no way I couldn't love her, now.  She was mine and I was
hers, now.  We were each other's.  We loved.

                                --==+==-

   Okay, I've admitted it.  I fucked a little girl.  I truly fucked her,
over the next few months.  Months hell, over the next few years.  Mischa
grew up, and she grew up well.  Her fat little nipples were soon atop nice
little fist-sized breasts, and my fun grew even more.  She developed some
wispy black hairs on her little pussy, and her butt got plumper.  She grew
up, but stopped at a little over five feet.  She's still not a "big" girl,
but...  she's perfect.

   Her grasp of the English language took a while to develop, but when it
did she was chattering away like she'd been born to it.  She told me once
that the concept of another language hadn't occurred to her for the
longest, and I think I can almost remember the day it clicked in her mind.
There was no shutting her up, after that.  And, I guess because of me, she
has absolutely no accent...  well, if she ever lives in Arkansas maybe she
doesn't.

   We just lived on the base.  Nothing else really made sense.  I played
with the radio until the battery ran down.  I heard some talk on it at
times, but nothing I ever said was answered.  We just whiled away the
hours, talking, laying around...  and fucking.  Damn but we did a lot of
that.  As Mischa got older I began to feel a little desperation at it, as I
think she did, waiting for that first day when her period started.  I knew
everything would change, then.  I racked my brain for what I remembered of
the "rhythm" method, some guy had tried to explain it to me once, but I
wasn't that sure how it worked.

   Speaking of that, though...  Sisyphus actually helped us, on that one.
He still came around occasionally, we still had no idea where he lived, but
he'd just show up and we'd give him some food we'd collected or that I'd
killed and he'd disappear after a day or two.  Once he and I were sitting
outside the PX and he asked me if I was fucking her yet.  I just laughed.

   "Sis..." I said.  "You understand the rhythm method?"

   He laughed.  "She started bleedin'?" he said.

   "Not yet," I said, "but I think it'll be any day now."

   "You have to chart her periods," he said.  "You have to know about when
they'll start.  Then, from when it starts, you got about a week of messy
fuckin', then two weeks when you should just eat her pussy or butt-fuck
her. Then you got about a week of carefree fuckin', 'til she starts
bleedin' again.  But it ain't perfect, nothin' is.  Hey...  I could clip
you, if you want...  lord knows I've gelded enough bulls and stallions...
want me to?"

   I passed on that one.  I didn't want Mischa to get pregnant, but neither
did I want some reformed wild west cowboy like Sisyphus snipping my balls
off.  But I had him repeat the rhythm stuff several times, until I hoped it
was stuck in my head.  And I never did admit to him that I was fucking
Mischa, though it was obvious.

   At long last, when I suppose she was fourteen or fifteen, she had her
first period.  We were a little more careful after that, and our sex life
took a few turns as we tried to find things that were as much fun as simple
fucking.  She became skilled at what my friend Ralph the Elf called "blow
jobs," where she put my dick in her mouth, something I don't think a lot of
girls will do.  Well, maybe they all do it, they just hide it well. 
Anyway, with her typical lack of shyness, she became apt to drop to her
knees at any time, and take me in her mouth.

   I'd gone as native as her by now, just wearing a strip of cloth around
my goodies.  She finally started having to bind her breasts up, to my
infinite sadness, but I didn't want them to get all droopy.  She had fine
breasts, fine tits, and I loved sucking on them or simply squeezing them as
we made love.  There was nothing about the girl that wasn't sexier than
hell.

   The years passed, in a slow idyllic island fashion.  I had no idea what
day or month it was, and later I couldn't have told you the year with any
certainty.  I wondered every now and then how the war was going.  I was
surprised as more time went by that no ships stopped by, or no one returned
to set up the base again.  As well as I know the army, the base should have
been inventoried several times by now.  It made me wonder who had won the
war, if anybody had.  I still felt like the US would eventually win it,
though.

   One day, as we did occasionally, Mischa and I made the two mile trek to
the ocean.  We took some roasted wild boar I'd shot, and lay on the beach,
after walking a mile in both directions for anything the tide might have
washed up.  I lay in the hot sun, and felt it soak into my body.  I felt
good, I felt so good it should have been illegal.  I had the sexiest, most
beautiful girl in the world beside me, and nothing but relaxation and
fucking in my future.  I had it made.  What could ever go wrong?

   "Bill..." Mischa said.

   "What?" I said lazily.

   "Look!  A boat!" she said.  I opened the eye closest to her and regarded
her.  She was staring out to sea.

   I almost cried, hearing that.  Somehow...  somehow I knew that
everything had changed for us.  I slowly sat up, and looked out to sea.  Oh
fuck, I though.  Oh holy fuck.  Holy fucking fuck.

   The ship was just a dot, but it was recognizable as a ship.  As we
watched it over the next hour, it was obvious that it wasn't going East or
West, but coming straight at us.  Finally, about the time we would have
ended our morning nap and started our afternoon one, it pulled up a mile or
two off shore and I saw the smoke from the stacks dampen down.  It was some
kind of cargo or supply ship, it looked like, with a giant US flag on the
stern.  Well, that was a relief, at least it wasn't a meatball.  We sat in
the sand and waited.  I wondered if they had noticed us.

   "Mischa!" I said.  "Jump up and down!  Wave!" She did that for a while,
until I was pretty certain somebody on the ship must have noticed her. 
Sure enough, a small boat was soon headed our way.  It came right to us,
running up on the beach, and four guys jumped out, two of them armed with
my old faithful, Garands.  I had stood up by then.  Mischa was behind me,
for some reason she suddenly seemed shy.  I laughed at her.

   "Howdy!" I said, when the men had gotten within talking distance.

   "Hello!" the civilian looking guy said.  The soldiers just looked stern.
I'm sure I looked like a fright...  I have no idea how many years it had
been since I shaved, even.  They just stared at us.  I pulled Mischa
around, and hugged her a little tighter.  I wondered if I'd lose her,
before this was over.

   "Corporal William Brascom, US Army," I said, saluting the civilian.  He
smiled, and gave me a sloppy salute back.

   "Albert Evans," he said.  "Atomic Energy Commission." The four of them
looked around, and I'm sure they were sneaking glances at Mischa's
beautiful tits.  With a shock I realized that I, too, was naked.

   "Corporal," the man said, careful to just look me in the eyes.  "How did
you come to be on this wretched island?"

   "I got left behind when the 442nd moved out," I said.  "I was in the
jungle, killing a sniper."

   The man nodded.  He wrote on a notepad as I gave him my story.

   After that, after I'd told him a quick version of my tale, they invited
us to return to the ship.  They positively insisted, in fact.  As long as
they'd let me keep Mischa, I thought, I'll go with them.  If they say she
can't come, I'll insist to be returned to the island.  Hell, I'll swim back
if I have to.

   Mischa looked as nervous as I felt, but she let me help her aboard the
boat.  The men never asked me about her, they seemed to understand.  I knew
eventually I'd have to explain her, though.

   On the way to the ship, I turned to the guy.

   "Why are you all here?" I asked.

   "We have to clean this island out," he said.  "You know of anybody else
on it?  Any indigenous native population?"

   I shook my head.  "Just another guy from the 442nd that got left behind
named Sisyphus."

   The man looked at a tech sergeant that was with the group.  The sergeant
laughed and said "The scholar!" and the civilian laughed too.  "Looks like
we found him, after all."

   "Why?" I asked.  They turned back to me.

   "Why what?" the civilian asked.

   "Why do you have to get all the people off the island?" I said.

   "It's, uhm...  that's top secret.  I will tell you, off the record... 
we're going to test bombs here...  new bombs, big bombs...  we are
authorized to move all native personnel to safe sites being prepared for
them.  We are authorized to use whatever means necessary, including force."

   Well, I didn't understand any of that, and a lot of it didn't click for
years, until we got back to the states.  We never went back, they dressed
us and kept us on the ship as a group of guys offloaded supplies and moved
into the base.  I guess they were going to have to sweep this island and
the surrounding ones for natives...  even though I told them I thought the
japs had killed them all.  We certainly never saw anyone else there, other
than Sisyphus.  I still wonder, to this day, if they found Sisyphus.  I
kinda hope they didn't, he seemed more like the kind of guy that wouldn't
want to leave, even if they were gonna explode a nuke on his head.  I
imagine him now, at the end...  laughing and staring at the expanding
fireball until his eyes burned out and his body melted.  Good old Sisyphus.

   That's it, we're headed for the states, I got the news in the radio room
that I was not considered a deserter due to my previous service record and
the fact that the truck and Rodney's body had been found, making me a MIA.
I'll even get some back pay, amazingly enough.  Obviously, the world's a
whole different place now than it was...  it was gratifying to hear that
we'd won the war a few years back, but confusing to hear how.  Two bombs,
just two bombs ended the war?  I thought that was crazy when I first heard
it.  And, as I eventually realized...  that had a lot to do with why we
were taken off the island.

   We stood on the fantail and watched the island grow smaller behind us.
Mischa snuggled up beneath my arm.  What did our future hold?  Would I be
allowed to marry her, when we got home?  Would it be better to adopt her? I
probably couldn't do that, being a single male.  Plus, that would make what
I still planned on doing with her illegal.  Well, whatever...  at that time
I had high hopes that something positive would work out.  Most of all I
just knew that I loved her, and she loved me.  She could even tell me that,
now.  I told her then and I tell her now every morning and every night...
Mischa...  I love you.  I love you.

                                --==+==-

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