Page 4 of Stranded

I take a seat in the cave's shade and cross my legs as I watch and wait. I knew it was too far away to see anything as small as a life raft. So I needed to wait, to give it time to get closer to my island.

I huff out a breath after two hours of waiting. There were probably no survivors, right? I’m sure I would have seen them by now.

“What do you think, Steve? I’m getting hungry, anyway. What do you say we go back home and I cook me up some fried eggs and ham? Is it still called ham if it’s a boar and not a pig?” I tilt my head as I consider it. But I don’t know the answer any more now than I did the first time I asked the question.

I stand up and something catches my eye in the ocean, I instinctively hold my breath, hoping not to see it again. My heart sinks when I do. There’s something small in the water, bouncing slowly over the waves as it makes its way towards me.

I squint, hoping that will help me identify it. “Please be a whale,” I murmur. Another hour passes before I’m ninety percent positive it’s a raft.

“Crap shells! What am I supposed to do now?”

Deciding I need to get back home and make a plan, I start the painstaking journey of climbing down.

“Remember, Cliff. You and me are best buds. You don't want me to fall to my death, do you? Who would you have to talk to? Bob? Sheesh, yeah right! That bird brain is a shitty conversationalist.” I step on a piece of rock and it shifts under my foot, making me squeal in terror, my fingers digging in, gripping the wall tightly as my foot tries to find purchase.

“Not cool, Cliff. Not. Cool,” I say, trying to distract myself from that near fall. I carry on climbing down, sweet talking him the whole way so he won’t let me fall. I glance down and see my feet are only about eight feet from the ground, but the movement makes me lose focus and my grip slips.

I scream as I fall backwards, landing hard on my ass with a distinctcrunch. I wince, then cringe, pulling my bag around me and checking inside.

“Crab sucker!” I turn my glare to Cliff. “Way to go, you stupid wall! Now that climb was completely pointless!” I grumble, dumping out the gooey contents of my bag. “Awe, Steve, you’re all slimy now! Guess I gotta take you for a bath.”

I glance over my shoulder towards the ocean. I probably had anywhere from two to four hours for that raft to make it here. I had to be ready. There was no way I was getting caught by another raft full of stranded men. “But… they can’t catch you if they don’t know you’re here,” I tell myself as I walk towards the water to clean out my bag and give Steve a quick bath.

“What do you think, Steve? Can I keep hidden long enough for them to kill themselves or be rescued?” Lord knows I gave up on being saved a long time ago, realizing that going back to civilization was not something I was interested in.

I put a cleaned up Steve back in my bag and head back through boar terrain. I’ve been doing this for more than half my life, so I know how to move quickly and quietly through the jungle. Even Brutus doesn’t know I’m here. I smirk to myself when I hear a noise and jump to a tree branch, hiding myself as a couple of boar saunter through below me.

When they’re out of sight, I drop back down and quickly make my way back to the beach. I take off at a light jog. I can’t see the raft yet from here, which is a good thing. I still have time. After ducking past the few large leaves that block my well-worn path from the view of the beach, I jog back to my home.

They're going to know somebody was here at some point. But I want them to think it’s abandoned now. “No humans here!” I yell as I enter my camp. I yank the cord to pull the ladder down, no sense in hiding it, they’d find it and I’d rather they didn’t destroy all my stuff before they leave.

“I’m just going on a little camping trip, that’s all,” I tell myself, trying not to panic. But my heart is racing with fear. They can’t find me. I can’t go through that. Not again.

I stand in my main hut and look around. There’s nothing in here that’s personal, I have nothing left from my old life anymore. Knowing I don’t have much time, I grab my spare hammock from the corner and my largebag, quickly shoving it inside. I really want my pillow and blanket, but I need to pack light. Besides, I could come back for those later, right?

I run along the skywalk to the kitchen, shoving open the door and going straight for my jerky. I have ten pieces left. “Nine,” I say, shoving one in my mouth, feeling hungry after my climb and jog through the jungle.

I grab a few cooking utensils and bowls, placing them in my bag before I head out. I move back towards my main hut, but instead of going inside, I walk around the deck to the large tree trunk behind it. It’s one of the large trees I built the hut into and is one of the biggest on the island. Only the lemur’s tree is bigger.

I jump and push myself between the splitting trunks and brace my feet on either side as I work my way upwards. When I get about six feet higher, I’m able to reach a narrower branch and use that to hoist myself into the tree. I climb higher until the leaves hide me from below.

I consider moving somewhere else to live on the island, far away from here. But there’s something I have come to learn in my life. You can’t protect yourself from an enemy you don’t see coming. And what better place to watch my new enemy from, than above?

I take my time finding the perfect place to hang my hammock, securing it on both ends with some rope made from braided bark. I find a place to stash my large bag so I just have my small pouch with me. I pull Steve out and whisper to him, “You stay here, buddy. I’m gonna go watch for our new tenants. Don’t let anyone touch my stuff, alright?”

I double check I still have McStabby in its sheath at my side, then make my way through the tree, finding another way to get to the ground without being seen by the camp.

When I do make it down, I’m happy with the location, about fifty feet away from the edge of camp. I jog back to the beach to see if the raft has arrived yet. I come up short as I near the end of the jungle path, seeing the yellow raft only a hundred feet from the shore.

“Crab sucker! They’re here already?” I move behind a large palm tree, making sure to stay in the shade, and watch as it moves towards me.

“Eep!”

“Ahh!” I yell, jumping when Mo-Mo hollers from a branch right behind me. “Sweet baby crab, you scared me, Mo-Mo!” I whisper yell at him. He grunts in reply and I turn back to the ocean, pointing at the raft. “Look, Mo-Mo. We’ve got company.”

“Owww,” he coos in interest.

“Mo-Mo, they can’t know I’m here. You can’t give me away. I mean it, buddy. Do you understand me?” I turn my gaze to him in a moment of seriousness, hoping that he will understand what I’m trying to tell him. He seems to be smarter than any other animal I’ve ever met, and I hope he understands me now.

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