The Forgotten Island

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

WE ARENT IN KANSAS ANYMORE, TOTO

-Arya-

When I was younger, before my sister became too cool to play with me anymore, we used to play barbies together in our living room. We had a coffee table that my mother had formed from a fallen tree branch, which was perfect to play in as the wood twisted and turned around each other, resembling a mini forest of sorts. Our favorite scene to act out with the dolls was a storyline where they found themselves stranded on an island and learning to live in the “wilds” of those twisted branches of the table. Today, the possibility of a real-life version of that game loomed in my mind as I kept an eye on the horizon. This morning we had all decided that we would triple our food intake, which would give us two more days of food. All in all, it was an easy decision to make; as it was, we were slowly dying anyways, we had nothing more to lose. Keeping in mind how strange the birds looked, we also decided to take an additional risk and go fishing again. With our only bait being chunks of our ration bars, we caught several fish surprisingly quickly. Just like before, they were a muted yellow color that was oddly reminiscent of vomit or stomach bile. Keeping in line with the appearance of the birds, they had too many eyes, long jagged jaws, and fins one size too large for their bodies. Reggie cooked the fish for us with a small fire as the sun began to descend and we gorged ourselves on their meaty flesh. The heaviness of a full belly was foreign but comforting, but that comfort was fleeting as our bodies began to revolt against us. After months of extraordinarily little food our gastrointestinal systems could not cope with the sudden excess, and we each began running to the sides of the boat to squat over the edge. It wasn’t the first time we had suffered from bouts of diarrhea, but it certainly was the most violent; the sounds of splashing water and painful moans the crescendo of the evening.

Despite my aching stomach and the smell of feces floating away from our boat, I felt good that evening. We sat amongst each other ruminating on what we might find if we came across land. “Green is the color of the heart chakra” Fish softly said, “Perhaps the color of the clouds is a sign that we will find good things”. The birds, fish, and other strange objects appearing in the water made that hard to believe, but any land was better than this boat and our slow path to starvation. We were on the third day after the bird sighting when we saw it; couldn’t miss it even if we tried. A huge landmass appeared before us, it was a giant island covered in dense trees that looked like they were a mixture of deep reds and dark greens. Part of the island had some mountains that were currently surrounded in a thick green mist, making it appear very foreboding. I rolled my turtle pendant in between my fingers, grateful I had managed to hang on to that single part of home through everything that had happened. I had placed it back on my neck from its hiding place in my bra a couple nights after the ship had went down, the previous pendant lost during the chaos. Darnell surveyed the island ahead, taking stock as any leader would, Fish standing strong at his side. “Gather an’ prepare every-ting we can carry, we do not know what we will find in dat place. We will eat extra again tonight ta make sure we ’ave strength to face whatever is ashore tomorrow.” We prepared as he instructed, we ate some fresh fish, and we waited. Morning came quickly, Reggie and Chris fished again hoping to catch enough fish for a day or two should we not immediately find food. We rolled up our seaweed sleeping mats that I had made in the first few weeks at sea, splitting the supplies up into Val and I’s packs; when those were full, I fashioned a couple of baskets with thick straps out of extra seaweed for Darnell and Chris to carry what we couldn’t fit. I looked around at our pathetic group of 8; Fish, Darnell, Nate’a, Tammy, Val, Chris, Reggie, and myself. All of us were emaciated and looked half dead, our skin too dark and pulled tight around our ribs. The packing had only taken a short time, as we had precious little to our names. Most of the boats original emergency supplies would be coming with us, along with various contents of the seafaring boxes. The island began to grow larger before us as the sun climbed higher in the sky.

Darnell and Val, the last two air-borns among us, took their spots at the rear of our boat; the plan being to create a current of wind that would guide our boat ashore. The rest of us sat in the middle, making sure none of us could accidentally fall over one of the sides if something unexpected happened on the way. Darnell and Val took turns guiding us forward towards a spot of beach that looked relatively clear, and I searched desperately for any sign of civilization. I couldn’t wait to call my mom and tell her I was ok, to hug my sister and tell them how much I loved them both. I gripped my turtle pendant fiercely as I gazed at the island, trying to will that situation into the universe. Perhaps the gods would hear my silent begging, and give me another chance to see my family instead of the extreme opposite of being marooned on an island. As we got closer, we began too see that the beach was not in fact clear, but littered with a shocking amount of debris. Boxes, crates, shipping parcels, pool floaties, and other various items clogged the surface of the water, sloshing to the sides as our boat sliced through the water. Abandoning our center spot of safety, we all stood at the sides, eager to see what this place was that we had happened upon. A portrait in the water caught my eye, it was of a younger woman in a very poufy Victorian era dress, and a serious expression. It bobbed up and down in our wake, giving her an appearance that she was looking at us with disdain. Green might be the color of the heart chakra, but if this island was a heart…whose heart had we stumbled upon?