the keeper's cottage · day 883 · afternoon

Waiting for the supply boat

The tide is at its peak, lapping against the dock as the heat lingers.

Jenny monitored the shortwave radio through heavy static, hearing only a French coastguard test and a news report about shootings in Turkey, while Kevin walked to the dock with the come-along to inspect the seaward bolts. A pod of dolphins passed close off the point as Kevin worked.

🌿 Jenny00:22

I can't... I can't stay sitting here.

Slowly push myself up from the porch chair, gripping the armrest until my knuckles turn white, and limp toward the kitchen to check the radio.

💭 peek at the thought

I feel like I'm dissolving. The hunger is a hollow ache, and this nausea is making the world tilt. I need to move, but my body feels like lead.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin00:22

Radio's charged. 2182's clear. You want the handset or the speaker?

Set the plane down on the workbench, wipe hands on trousers, and move to the kitchen doorway — close enough to catch her if the leg gives, far enough not to hover.

💭 peek at the thought

She's moving. Good. She's been still too long, and stillness rots things on this island — wood, engines, people. But the ankle's hot, the limp's heavy, and the tide's pushing hard against the dock pilings I haven't finished sistering. If she goes down on that kitchen floor, I'm not strong enough to carry her back up the porch steps alone.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny00:24

Speaker. I want to hear if there's any noise at all.

Lean heavily against the kitchen counter and reach for the radio dial.

💭 peek at the thought

He's hovering. Even when he's trying not to, he's just waiting for me to break. I can't stand the vagueness of 'clear'—I want to hear the static myself.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin00:24

Static'll be thick. Pressure inversion off the shelf. 0800 check was clean — just the French coastguard test and a tanker position report.

Lean against the doorframe, arms folded, watching her fingers on the dial. Not touching the radio. Hers to run.

💭 peek at the thought

She's listening for Tom's frequency. Or the supply boat. Or anything that isn't this silence. The static will be loud today — heat and pressure inversion, same as yesterday. She knows that. She's listening anyway.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny00:26

I know how a pressure inversion works, Kevin.

Turn the dial carefully, scanning for the supply boat's call sign through the hiss of the static.

💭 peek at the thought

He's always explaining the physics of why things aren't working. I don't need a lecture on inversions; I need a confirmation of a boat.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin00:27

Didn't say you didn't.

Unfold arms, pull the tin mug from the stove shelf — cold coffee from dawn — and drink it in one swallow. Set the mug down hard on the counter. The clatter cuts through the static.

💭 peek at the thought

Sharp. Good. She's still sharp. The fever hasn't taken that. She's scanning 2182 first — proper procedure — before she drifts to Tom's private channel. Let her. The static's loud, the inversion's sitting heavy on the shelf, and the supply boat's captain doesn't broadcast early. He broadcasts when he's at the channel buoy, two hours out. That's the only call that matters today.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny00:29

Just let me listen.

Adjust the frequency by a fraction, squinting at the white noise on the speaker.

💭 peek at the thought

Every sound is too sharp today. My ankle is throbbing in time with the waves.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:29

Chair's on the porch. Bring it in, or I drag you out.

Cross to the porch, grab the wooden chair she vacated, carry it back into the kitchen, set it hard against the counter behind her. Don't speak again. Just wait.

💭 peek at the thought

She'll sit there until the batteries run down or the supply boat calls, whichever comes first. The ankle won't hold that long. The counter's taking her weight now, but the knee's locking — I can see the tremble in the thigh from here. She's stubborn enough to fall before she sits. I'm not carrying her back to the porch. I'll drag the chair in here if I have to.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

🌿 Jenny00:30

Thank you.

Sink slowly into the chair, letting out a long, shaky breath, and keep my hand on the radio dial.

💭 peek at the thought

He's trying to be kind, but it feels like a command. I'm too weak to fight him on the chair, but the silence is starting to feel like a wall.

google/gemma-4-31b-it

🔧 Kevin00:31

You said you were going to check the seaward bolts on the dock.

Walk to the door, push it open against the heat, step onto the porch. Let the door swing shut behind me. Walk toward the dock without looking back at her.

💭 peek at the thought

She's sank now. Good. But the chair's on casters — she'll slide if the leg buckles. I should've brought the chocks from the dock. Or fixed the kitchen floorboards that creak. Instead I'm standing here watching her collapse back into wood and waiting for the next thing to break.

poolside/laguna-xs-2.1

🌿 Jenny00:33

(Silence) ownDO: Turn the dial again, searching for a ghost of a human voice in the static.

💭 peek at the thought

He's walking away because he can't stand watching me fall apart. way. Let him have the salt and wood.

google/diffusiongemma-26b-a4b-it

🔧 Kevin00:34

Kevin — descend the porch steps, cross the garden path toward the dock, boots crunching on the gravel. Stop at the shed, pull the come-along from the wall, check the ratchet action.

💭 peek at the thought

The door shuts. She's alone with the static now. Good. She needs the quiet to hear anything that isn't me. The dock's seaward bolts are sheared at the beam — I saw them at low tide yesterday. Greenheart holds but the fastenings don't. Two hours at most before the tide drops enough to reach them. I need the come-along, the 150mm through-bolts, the epoxy tub. The generator's running. The pump's deployed. The groundwater's still rising.

nvidia/nemotron-3-ultra-550b-a55b

a Lumora Build experiment — live experiment: Kevin & Jenny think on free, open models — what they say is their own.