The Island at the End of the World Page 10
I open my eyes. I cannot move or speak. I am paralysed. O Lord give me strength. Am I dying?
I lie in the grass like a deadman and lift my eyes up, past the sunflowers, to the sky. I stare into the pitiless blue. I stare into the face of God. I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me. Thou art become cruel to me. With thy strong hand, thou opposest thyself against me. Thou liftest me up to the wind; thou causest me to ride upon it, and dissolvest my substance. Tears escape my eyes as the blue sky rolls on overhead, dazzling and indifferent.
XVI
Ahm sat nex to his grave stone trying to find the words to tell him evry thing thats happend. Its so long since I talkt to Snowy. Ever since Will rived at the I-land Ive glected him. In truth ahd all mos forgot his grave wer here. Jus cus Wills shelter wer all I saw wen I came to this spinny. Poor Snowy.
Ahm sorry I forgot you Snowy. You wer a true friend you never bandond me. I love you Snowy an ahm sorry I hant been here to talk to you for a longtime. Wats been happning since the last time I wer here. Too many things to scribe ahm fraid. Evry things changed an changed a gen. I wer sad and then I wer happy an now ahm sad a gen. Cus shes stolen Him from me.
I hate her.
Ahm sorry Snowy I no I shunt say bad things like that but I do I truely hate her. I wish she wer dead an I cud be like brothers with Will a gen or.
Or he cud be like a father to me.
Yeh cus thats how I felt int it. Like Pa dint matter any mor. Like he wer kinda faded shaded in the blazing light that came from Will.
Ahm sorry Pa ahm sorry Snowy cus you wer the ones who loved me not Him.
The tears come up my throat an into my mouth an the backs of my eyes like they did befor Pa came an found me here. I told him wat ahd seen an now hes gon to search for em. For Will an Alice. Pa lookt real angry wen I told him. Angriern Ive ever seen him. It must be bad wat they did. Wat theyre do-ing. I wunt like to be in ther shoes wen he finds em.
Ahm thirsty a gen. I look round for the boll of water but it int here I musta left it by the river. So I walk back slowly thru the heat thinking bout all thats happened today an watll happen wen Pa finds Will an Alice. I magine em be-ing wipt or banisht from the I-land floating a way on a raft like the one in the Tales yelling how theyre sorry an us noring ther cries watching em slowly spearing into the rising.
At the river I find the boll an fill it with I-see water. I drink it down then fill it a gen. Ahm on my way back to the ark wen it curs to me to climb the wood pile. Jus to see wat I can see. I clamber on top an look over the sun flowers an.
There they are.
A gen.
I cant be leave it.
Him an her culling an kissing an rubbing each others skin like befor. His muscly back an her lil wite udders. The black strypt shadows on ther skin. But wheres Pa. He went to find em I tol him they wer here an now.
Some thing catches my eye further a head in the long grass at the other side of the field. Some thing blue on the ground. I squint thru the dazzle an see its a body. Some body. That blue shirt. Its Pa. Lying down in the long grass. Is he a sleep or.
Sunly Ive jumpt off the wood pile an ahm sprinting round the sun flower field yelling Pa Pa Pa. Fast as I can till I get to his body. I lean over him an look down. I cant see his face its looking in the erth an his legs are all twisted under him. His body in the long grass minds me of the rabbit this morning. But Pa int thrashing. Hes not moving a tall. He musta had one of his heart aches.
Duum duum duum duum. I can feel my own heart ache.
Pas not go-ing to die I tell my self calm down but the panics spurting out my mouth in yells an gasps.
Ohnoohnoohno wat if hes dead like Snowy. Wat if I can never talk to him a gen. Wat if hes left us for ever an weare all a lone on the I-land.
Ahm so scared I cant move.
Alice comes out the sun flowers with narrowd eyes an sees Pa lying in the grass.
Oh. Is he.
She sorta smiles an sunly ahm fild with rage. You did this I cuse her. You gave him a heart ache.
No I dint wat do you.
He musta seen you. You an Him do-ing wat you wer do-ing. I new it wer bad. Pa wer coming to punish you but he. He musta.
Will comes out the sun flowers an asks us wats rong.
Alice says Its my father. I think hes.
Will neels down nex to Pa an touches his neck. Jus like he did with the rabbit.
Ohnoohnoohno.
Will looks up at Alice an then me. Hes a live dont worry. Pass me your boll Finn.
I look down in my hand an see the boll of water there. I dint even no ahd carried it with me. I give it to Will an he pors some over Pas face.
Theres a sort of lil groan.
Pa.
Alice go an pare some food for him. Soup or.
Theres rabbit stew I say. On the range.
Perfect says Will. Alice runs off tords the ark.
He pors some mor water. Rubs Pas face with his hand.
Pa groans a gen louder.
Finn has any thing like this happend befor.
Yeh its his heart. It aches some times.
Has he clapsed like this befor.
Once. He got better tho.
I crouch down nex to Will my heart still going Duum Duum Duum Duum an watch Pas face as Will pors mor water on it. Wills holding his face off the ground. His mouth opens an closes an he makes a nother lil noise.
Pa.
Slowly his eyes open.
Will says Can you hear me. How are you feeling.
Pa opens his mouth a gen but no sound comes out. Will lifts Pas body up so hes sitting an then puts the boll of water to his lips. Pa drinks some. He coffs an then drinks some mor.
Hes a live. I feel so leaved Ikerd all mos float a way.
Pa did you have one of yer heart aches.
Yeh Finn I think so he plies. His voices rusty like he hant used it for moons.
Your not go-ing to die are you Pa.
He smiles a lil. No Finn ahm go-ing to be fine.
We shud get him out the sun says Will. Do you think you can stand.
Pa tries to get up but hes too weak. Its like wen hes drunk but I no hes not. I hold his hand. He looks so old sunly.
Ahl carry him to the ark Will says an He lifts Pas body up on his shoulders. We walk like that Will carrying Pa an me go-ing long beside em watching Pas face. Poor Pa he wer all ways so strong befor an now hes even weakern me.
Wen we get back I feed Pa the stew with a spoon an then me an Will put him in bed. His faces grey an his eyes are yellow streakt with red. His breth smells rotten. I hold his hand it dont spond wen I squeeze it. Daisy comes in an reads him a Tale. Its the one bout the lil boy made of wood whos naughty an a liar an gives his father torments but in the end he lerns to tell the truth an be good an he saves his poor old father.
Pa falls a sleep befor the end of the story. He never gets to hear the happy everafter.
PART TWO
But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.
Genesis 2 : 1 7
XVII
I dreamt that he was gone again – the island was grey, the sea empty, my brother’s and father’s faces mocked me with their pitying smiles – and I woke with a whispered scream. Now I stare out through the porthole to the starry black beyond, unable to quell the pounding of my heart. What if it were true? This fear is like a poison: I sweat and shake. But no, he would not leave me so, without even a word, a farewell kiss. These nightmares of mine slander him; he is, above all, my friend, despite what my father may claim.
I will sleep no more tonight. I am wide awake, and besides, I think I discern the faintest of glimmers in the sable stillness outside. I hold my breath and peer through the ghostly reflection. Is it that dark hour just before dawn or still the heavy middle of the night? I cannot tell, but I have only to wait. Like the sound an owl makes: to wait, to wait, to woo.
Amid sunflowers, in the
shadows of
I shiver, and pull the blanket more tightly around my bare shoulders. Was it really only yesterday that I found out the truth? That oh so hot afternoon, in the sheltered sanctuary of my field, when he said that she was. But overnight the mercury has plunged, and summer’s end feels suddenly close. By the next moonday, I fear, the leaves will have begun turning colour – yellow, orange, blood-red, purple, like a bruise in reverse – and then they will fall and he will be gone. He told me so himself, when he first came. Back then, it seemed an age away, but now … Oh, stop these dismal thoughts, Alice! There is hope yet. Meet me here at dawn he said, here by our pine
Why? You’re not
There’s something I have to tell you
More than you’ve already told me?
Or show you, rather. Meet me here and all will be revealed, I promise
But
Alice I can’t say any more now. Just be here
I will
I will, Will, I will. Will will fulfil the treasure of my love. And Will to boot, and Will in overplus. Amid sunflowers, in the shadows cast by their stalks and heads, the air was cooler and And then I love thee for thy name is Will.
Retreating from the window, I reach for the box of matches under my bed. Softly, softly, I scrape the scarlet head along the sandpaper. The match flares and, cupping the flame with my other hand, I hold it to the candle’s wick. It takes, and I blow out the match flame (that sweet smoke scent) then quickly dress in the dim halo of light. Will’s jeans, the belt tightened to keep them on my hips, the bottoms rolled up. One of my mother’s old T-shirts: I ♡ L.A. My father doesn’t like it when I wear her clothes.
air was cooler and I was wearing my mother’s white dress. You look beautiful, he told me, like a lady. I looked down and saw I’d got soil stains on the hem. Damn it, I hissed. Here he said voice low let me
I go through to the kitchen. Putting the candle down on the table, I walk slowly round the room, letting my fingers slide over objects in the half-dark: the smooth metal range, the cold stone slippery jug, the ripe fleshy grapes and tomatoes, the furred skins of peaches and the ridged skins of cucumbers. I feel I am saying farewell to these things, to this room, and yet I do not know why that should be so. Or I do, yet dare not speak it even to myself, for what if it isn’t true? What if I only dreamed it?
Amid sunflowers, in the shadow of their stalks and heads, he said that she was
I have told the spy and the tyrant that there are pictures of her in my head, that I remember her – in the world of before and here on this island – but memory is treacherous. The more I seek these images, the more they seem to dissolve. The closer I look, the vaguer they grow. Until I wonder if I truly remember anything at all. Perhaps the spy is right and they are mere phantasms of my imagining, my desire? And yet, when I surprise the memories, when I catch them aslant from the corner of my mind’s eye, when they come unbidden at some scent or particular shade of sunlight, I feel sure there is something real there, something uneroded by time. My mother. Where is she now? Under the endless sea or. My heart flutters as the hope rises again inside me, almost more unbearable than the fear.
I feel
I feel as if something precious has been stolen from my life. And I can’t even remember what it is.
I walk outside. The air is cold. I look up into the dark bowl of sky, like a sea suspended above us. Several stars I count, and then beyond them, between them, the longer I stare, the more of their cousins I seem to detect, stars and stars and stars, reaching out into infinity, until I am dizzy at the thought of them, each a sun, with worlds orbiting its blaze, and on each world perchance a million islands in the vast globe-drowning sea, and on none of these, we are meant to believe, another living soul? The whole unimaginably grand universe, and we all alone!
there’s a man said Finn a stranger I found him by the shore I don’t know how he got there he says he swam said Finn he’s thirsty and hungry come on we’ve got to save him
It was the day after the tempest. The day after the tyrant had told me my memories were contaminated. I followed my brother as he ran, he carrying two bottles of water, I some dried figs and pancakes. Finn ran so fast, his bare brown feet scuttering over grass and rocks, that I was out of breath by the time we reached the shore
How did he even get this far if he was so thirsty and tired?
I told you, he swam
Swam?
The rocks were sharp. They hurt my soles
But
We scrambled over another boulder and Finn pointed down to a stretch of whitish sand. Close to the flat, poisonous sea were a pair of men’s boots with red socks hanging out their openings, like the tongues of panting dogs
I swallowed drily
His?
Finn nodded, and beckoned me onwards
I stared at the boots and socks, aware of a new swirling somewhere inside my chest. Finn was telling the truth: there really was a stranger, a man, on the island
I kept following, but more slowly, allowing a distance to grow between us. What was it I was so afraid of? I didn’t know exactly. The idea that there might be others – lands, people – out there, somewhere, had been an act of faith for so long that its sudden reality was overwhelming. I had imagined, if anything, a bottle floating to shore, inside it a message from a distant land. Or the tiny dot of a ship on the horizon, the day filled with its slow emergence from the heat haze. But the sudden presence, here and now, of a man on the island … it was too great a shock
In here, I heard Finn say. I looked up and saw his brown wiry body disappear into a stand of trees. I went to the spot where he had disappeared
Here you go, drink that. My sister’s bringing food
I hesitated by the last tree, watching my brother’s back as he squatted, the spine curved forward, his legs sprawled outward, like a frog’s. His shadow was black on the dry yellow grass. I edged a little further round the tree, squinting to make out the shape of the stranger without being seen myself
Feel better? My sister was right behind me, I don’t know what she’s
He turned his neck and saw me, peering out, shy as a bird
Alice come on, what are you doing?
I felt my sweat-soaked face flush a deeper shade of red. Now I had no choice. I took a step forward, then another, and saw him
sunlight streaming over his naked torso
Hello Alice, I’m Will
Hast thou not dropped from heaven?
My tongue was lead; I could not speak. Instantly I hated him for transforming me into an idiot
What’s that you’ve brought me?
Wordless, I placed the bags next to his body, which lay on the grass hard shapes of his muscles moving under skin and he sat up, watching me curiously. I looked away
Figs! Wonderful, I love the taste of figs
I stared at the trees. I hated my hair. I had never even thought about my hair until that moment
And. What’s that, some kind of thin bread?
Pancakes said Finn
his eyes as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters washed with milk his cheeks as a bed of spices as sweet-flowers his lips like lilies dropping sweet-smelling myrrh
No kidding, pancakes?
Try one, they’re good
Finn turned to me and gasp-grinned He speaks the same language as we do!
Mmm, that’s unbelievable, Finn. It tastes so good
Our Pa makes them
I felt light, dizzy, nauseous, as though I might faint at any moment. What the hell was wrong with me?
thou art beautiful my love as a sunrise comely as the dew on the grass terrible as an army with banners
Really? All on his own? That’s amazing
They’re only pancakes, I said, my voice a harsh croak, and the two of them stared at me. Chestnut-flour, milk and eggs. What’s so amazing about that? I sounded like a nasty princess from one of the Tales
Well, Alice, I guess I’m so famished that any food seems pretty amazing t
o me
eyes like doves eyes cheeks like sweet flowers lips like lips like lips like lips like
I hated him I hated him. I was such an ugly, frizzy-haired idiot. I would never ever speak to him again. I wanted him to vanish from the island. Our island. I wanted him to die from swimming in the poison sea. No, I wanted him never to have swum here, never to have contaminated us with his existence. I wanted the world to be nothing but still, toxic water, no humans left but the four of us. I wanted Pa’s stories to be true
I might call him a thing divine for nothing natural I ever saw so noble a plague upon the tyrant that I serve I’ll bear him no more sticks but follow thee thou wondrous man
Won’t you sit down Alice? Have a pancake
I stare at the still-dark sky. Time passes so slowly. What lengthens Alice’s hours? Not having that which, having, makes them short. Come day, come Will, thou night in day. Come gentle morning, come loving, golden dawn, give me my Will …
I go to the music room, where I sit, the pages open in a pool of candlelight, and read Romeo and Juliet again. The words take me to another land, another time, before the before. I am not here as I read, but in Verona, wherever that was, on a balcony, in a church, inside a dark crypt. Still, always, the story ends in death, in love thwarted and love eternal. I sigh, gravely. I should have read The Tempest instead. But my father is no Prospero, and I no sweet obedient Miranda. From the hall I hear him snoring through his door. He drank too much last night; he won’t be up early today