Deserted

I’m not sure how I got here. Well, I’m not sure how I am the only one that got here. The sun beats down on my pale face. The hot sand burns my toes. This place would be paradise if I weren’t stuck here. Three months ago was when this whole mess started. A book review led me to a book about traveling to exotic places, and that book got me stranded on a deserted island. Okay, this was not directly the book’s fault, but trying to travel to exotic paradises on a budget gets you an illusion of a cruise on a falling apart fishing boat.

What am I gonna do? I can’t survive here. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die so quick from so many terrible things.

No. No I can do this. I’ve watched plenty of those survival shows. How hard can it really be? Those idiots do it all the time.

What do I need to do first?

Gather food? Find water? Make a shelter?

Make a shelter. Yeah, that’s it, I’ll make a shelter, then find food and store it there, and well, it rained last night, so maybe I can collect water with leaves or something.

The storm last night was intense. The waves crashed like bricks while the water pounded down on us. I must have gotten knocked out because I don’t remember crashing. All I remember is waking up here this morning. Alone. Not a person in sight. Not even wreckage from the boat. It must have sunk, the other parts taken by the storm. Oh God, how can I do this? I’m all alone. Maybe I can make a friend out of a coconut or something. Didn’t a guy do something like that in a movie once?

Okay, Evan, stop it. Time to think, time to start surviving. Shelter. Find a spot in the trees, but still on the beach. Gather big leaves and vines. There are a few curved trees at the opening of the woods. I can use that. After gathering what I can find, I lay out my supplies. Huh, how do I do this? A few vines, some big palm leaves. I start tying the palm leaves together, and then to the trees. I work fast. I still have so much to do. All I need is a roof for now. I’ll worry about the rest later. Roof done. A smile crosses my lips as I’m satisfied with my small shelter. I sit down under my work…oh God this is really uncomfortable.

Floor. I need a floor. What can I use for a floor? There’s only sand, but I guess I can push out the sticks and leaves until it’s just dirt. That’s what I do. By the time I finish, I have dug a little ditch in my shelter. Look at that. Now I can stay cool during the day. This is going well.

Movement.

I snap my head to see something moving on the beach. A crab. A crab! I run after the little red shelled crustacean. It’s so fast, but I dive on top of it and grab the thing.

“Ow! Stupid little…” I throw it down as hard as I can on the rocks, and luckily that does the trick.

Food. I did it! Hahaha, I have food! I take the crab to my shelter and rip its legs off. I suck the meat out, and oh…ew…this is disgusting. I eat it anyway knowing I won’t have a choice, but gross. I need to make fire next. How hard can that be?

Fire is hard.

How the Hell do people do this? I got sticks, rocks, dry brush and nothing. I rubbed sticks together, on rocks, fast, slow. Nothing. How will I survive if I can’t make fire? That is like survival necessity number one…well two after shelter…okay three after shelter and food. Whatever. I need to figure this out. Oh…wait. I lean back with my elbows on my legs and I feel a lump.

I have a lighter.

Well…I’m sure the water flooded it too much to work. It lights right away. Well, this won’t last forever I’ll need to figure out this fire thing eventually. Though I already ate that crab raw so, I guess I don’t need fire right this minute, but I’ll need to learn. I’m circling now, has insanity already set in? Will I be here long enough to need to learn to make fire myself? I’m sure people will start looking soon, but who knows where the storm took me. The others may have even washed up on a different island, so they could just think I’m dead. Maybe I need to build a boat. I stare at the crashing waves, maybe I’ll worry about that later.

Okay. Shelter: check. Food: check. Fire: check. Water. I need to make something to collect the water.

It rained a lot last night. The leaves are still wet from the storm. If I can just find something to collect the rain drops, I can store enough to last me at least until tomorrow or the next day. I walk along the beach. I can’t believe nothing else washed up to shore. How was I the only thing? No boat wreckage. No stuff. No nothing…ow…wait a second. I stubbed my toe and something. When I look down, I see the sun glistening on something. I kneel down and begin to move the sand around. A beer bottle. I laugh. The only thing from the boat, and this was the same brand I was drinking. Now I have something to collect the water in.

I begin the long process of shaking branches into the bottle to gather the water. So many trees, not enough water, but all I need is enough to survive. How much water does a person need to survive? I groan…I’m going to die here. Can’t think like that. Have to keep going. Have to survive. Must gather water. Food. Shelter. Water. Fire. I can do this. I am doing this. I am a survivor.

Now that I understand how to survive, I take a minute to sit in my hut. Boredom starts to set in. palm leaves are all around me, so I pick some up and begin to fiddle with them. Not sure what I am making, I twist the leaves until a circle is formed. I laugh a little at the object in my hand. I’ve made a crown. Well, I am the only one on this island, so that would make me King. I laugh again as I put on the crown. No one can make fun of me here. I can do whatever I want. I am King of this island. My first decree as King is to find an easier way to collect my crab. I need to make a spear or something. I’m not getting bit by those little bastards again. Back to the woods, I find a long thick stick. I take it to the beach and begin scraping the end on the rough rock. As the wood begins to shred away, I find myself focusing in on the task at hand. I am sweating, but I don’t care. I will not stop until it is done. Faster and faster until finally there is a point. Not the sharpest spear I’m sure, but it will get the job done.

My hunt begins now. I walk slow, crossing one foot over the other, looking for my prey. I hear something move, and there it is. Another crab. Sneaking up on it, I jab my spear at the crustacean, but hit the sand instead. I almost lose my balance, but regain it and chase after the thing. Catching up it, I give it my all, and jump closer to the crab; stabbing it right through the middle. I’ve done it! I skewered the little meal. It’s wriggling around, but I ignore that and rejoice.

“This is my island! I will survive now! I am the King! Right little crab?” I laugh at it and dance around a little.

“Mr. Baxter?”

Spear in hand I look up. Is this a mirage? There are two men and a woman standing in front of me. All wearing identical clothes; a white shirt with a colored vest. Something gold is shining on their chests. I laugh again.

“I must be going insane.”

The man in the middle clears his throat. “Mr. Baxter, we’ve been looking for you all morning. Some of the other guests noticed you left last night and you weren’t here this morning. We’ve been looking everywhere, but then we saw the smoke and heard yelling.

“Wait…guests?”

“Yes sir, you and the other guests docked last night. They mentioned you were drinking quite a bit.”

“No, no that isn’t right. We wrecked. The ship wrecked. I washed up on the shore. I was all wet from the water.”

The woman spoke. “It rained last night…do you remember the boat wrecking?”

I stared with my mouth open. “Well, no, but…wait you said you’ve been looking all morning?”

“Yes sir, it’s nearly noon.”

Noon? Did they just say noon? I’ve only been out here for about five hours. I look around at all the progress I made. I built a shelter, gathered water, hunted food, made a fire. All that in less than a work day? This felt like days, hours at least. More than five. My face must be showing how I feel. My wide-eyed expression must be comical to the hotel staff, because they are all smirking a little. I can’t believe I got so shit-faced on the boat I don’t even remember docking. I don’t even remember taking my party to the hotel lobby and wondering back out to the beach in the middle of a storm. How could I have been so blackout drunk? I rub my face and follow the staff back to the hotel.

In a daze I stagger as I follow the hotel staff to the small resort. Approaching the white building, flashes of memory hit me. I’ve walked though these doors before. Last night. I recognize some people from my boat as we walk through the lobby. All of them staring at me, just like the ghosts I thought they were. I spot the bar from the other side of the room.

“I need a drink.”

The woman that led me here grabs my shoulder with a gentle touch. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough…King of the Island?”

I realize I am still wearing my crown.

Oh God, I’m never living this down.