I keep walking I don’t know how long, until an already familiar voice calls out to me from somewhere.
“Hey, stop. Hey.” Louder this time when I don’t react right away because my brain simply can’t make my body move fast enough. “Hey, stop.”
I stop, my back stiff as a board as I look around. But I don’t see anyone. Disregarding the voice as part of my dehydrated imagination, I keep walking.
“Wait!”
I stop once again, my shoulders slumping as I turn around and find the stuck-up giant moving my way. I squint into the morning sun, trying to see him as my eyes adjust to the brightness shone in my face.
“Is it you?” I shield my eyes from the sun with my hand, my eyes burning. My tongue is swollen, and I can barely speak.
The closer he comes, the larger he looks. I let my eyes get used to the halo behind him, trying to figure out if he’s real or just part of my feverish imagination which tends to run wild from time to time.
How long can people survive without water before going crazy? Am I past that point? If not yet, then I’m quicklyapproaching it, because there’s no way it’s the same stuffy man I’ve seen. King is an office rat with a stick so high up his ass, it was probably scratching his tonsils. This guy, who ditched the jacket and rolled his sleeves up, looks like a natural, relaxed part of the local fauna. Who seems entirely too comfortable to be without a keyboard and a sharp Parker pen in his hand. And shoes. His giant feet are bare. The closer he comes, the more they look like skis.
Yep, dehydrated.
“It’s me,” he grumbles in an annoyed manner. “I found water, but I don’t have anything to bring it in. Let’s go.”
He turns away, gesturing for me to follow him. My default setting is to fight with someone who orders me around. But that’s on a good day, and this is a bad day. A very bad day. So I silently follow him, hoping he won’t murder me in the nearest bushes. Even though I know he probably dreams of doing so.
It’s when my eyes land on his back that I falter, nearly tripping. Sure, I know he’s big. He’s always looked imposing in that suit of his. But after our first encounter I stopped seeing him as a man and started seeing him rather like an annoying creature sending me angry glares every chance we meet.
But now… I feel like a veil has been taken off my eyes, and I’m seeing him in a new light. His shoulders are the broadest I’ve ever seen, stretching the dirty, white material of his shirt to the fullest extent. If he were any bigger, I’m positive it would rip.Wait, thereisa rip. Right down the right side of his back. His pale skin peeks through, nearly blinding my poor eyes.
With every move, his muscles ripple beneath his shirt, hypnotizing me. On first look, I’d never think he had so many of them, and definitely not so prominent.Was he hiding all of that under that suit all this time?I press my fists into myeye sockets, wiggling them and trying to bring my old vision back because I’m clearly tripping.
When I stumble again, I roll my eyes at myself for being toothirstyand shift my attention from his back to my surroundings.
We walk in silence for a few minutes—ten? Or is it twenty?—through tall and short palms of different kinds. There’re no paths, no people, just chirping birds and a few chickens here and there.How did chickens get here? If there’re domesticated animals, there should be people, correct?
Soon, I hear the sound of splashing water. It’s not loud, but it’s there. Unless it’s my imagination, but I don’t think so this time. The more we walk, the louder the sound becomes.
King pushes green, hanging branches to the side, revealing a small waterfall of the purest color I’ve seen only on laptop backgrounds. Until this moment, I didn’t know something could look so pure. I rush toward the falling water and cup my hands under the stream, filling them with the icy goodness. And drink it.
I drink it until I can’t take anymore and only then do I sit my ass down on the plushy grass and look at my nemesis who delivered me to this wonderful source of life.
Now, when my thirst is satisfied, I can appreciate the view. And by the view, I mean my surroundings, not the fine ass in front of my face.
We’re in a small opening between the palm trees. Some are overgrown and some are not. And even though the place seems like a human hand hasn’t touched it yet, it looks in order. Like nature is taking care of itself without our interference, and it couldn’t have looked better.
The waterfall forms a small pond that doesn’t go anywhere. Most likely, there’s some sort of underground river or cave leading water away from here.
“It’s a small island.” King’s words take me out of my observation.
“What?” I look up at him, and yet again, he’s standing against the sun, and I still don’t see his face so I can’t read his expression.
“The place is an island, and there’re no people,” he explains, slower this time, like I couldn’t hear him before.
My head whips around. “No people? Are we on a deserted island?”
“Uninhabited. To assume it was deserted would mean that someone used to live here. But I found nothing. The place is empty.” He scratches his cheek. “Do you have a phone on you? Mine sank with the boat.”
Sank. With the boat. All the minute pleasure of enjoying the moment instantly plummets down when I remember the human life that might have been lost.
“Phone,” he reminds me in a slightly irritated voice. “Do you have it?”
“I think so.” I start patting the pockets of my shorts and, to my surprise, find my phone still inside. “I got it!” I cry, pulling it out.
