1: Paradise

     I hope my life gets better now that I'm free.

     The food is good here at this island I've discovered. That's a pleasant surprise. I can't remember the last time I saw bass this big.

     Rohan, you have stumbled upon paradise. And it's far enough away from any damn Skeeves. Plus, the island is too small to support a pack of wolves, something I will NOT miss, even if their skins do make nice-enough makeshift garments.
     Deciding to stay, I unload everything I can from the smallish sailboat I acquired a week and a half ago, and I set up camp near a rather-convenient old well. Perhaps over the next few weeks, I can build something of a more-permanent dwelling. It's spring, so I don't have the impending harshness of winter creeping up on me as swiftly as it might otherwise. And I might even have an easy go of it.

     For there ARE resources here, the place having obviously once been inhabited. There is yet another well, but I think I'll stick to the other one I found, not overly-trusting the dilapidated state of the nearby homestead.
    I can pull building materials from here. Maybe there are even a few tools lying around. Perhaps some furniture? I go carefully exploring.
    I find a bed! It takes a little work to drag it over to my new site, but it could be worth the effort. It's pretty moldy and might not be any more comfortable than sleeping on the ground, but I'm willing to give it a try. I could always go sleep in my boat, but being on dry land is better. The sea can still be a bit of a bitch now and again.
    Along with the bed, I find some crates, some weird round thing that looks useful, a stool, and a table.

     Back at my new site, I assemble a kind of lean-to with some of my materials. The bed fits nicely under it. Then I gather stones to put together a campfire, pulling up pieces of driftwood from the beach.
     With a sigh, I watch the bass I caught earlier as it roasts over the fire. I'm STARVING, but I dare not eat it until it's cooked.
     It would be so nice to have some bread. Of all the stupid things to miss, I miss bread. My mother used to bake her own. I loved coming home from school as a child to the smell of freshly-baked bread.
     But it does no good to wish for what cannot be. Life WILL get better.
     I'm lucky I escaped the Skeeves. Accused of murder. Me! The boy FELL off the cliff. I didn't push him. Why would I push him? It was that bloody Reck wanting to get rid of me, so eager to pin anything on me. He always saw me as a threat to his authority. Like I would even WANT to rule the tribe. Dammit, I just wanted to be left alone.
    Well, now I am. I'm alone. My gut clenches up. I blame the hunger.

     Fish finished cooking, I devour it, being careful of the bones.
     I stare at the dying fire as the sun sets. Although I'm enjoying its warmth, it wouldn't do to keep it burning. I still don't know just how MUCH resources I can rely on. If this is to remain paradise, I must be careful to replenish what I use.

    It may be a bit belated, but I give thanks for the gift of the fish to whatever deity is real. For the first time in weeks, I will go to sleep with a full stomach.

******************************

     Fire! I smell fire! Sama isn't cooking; it's too late at night for that. And it's coming from the wrong direction.

     Without alerting anyone else, I get out of bed to go and investigate.

     My shoes would make too much noise, so I leave them behind, thinking I might need to stay quiet.

     Right away, I see a faint light near the beach, and someone has built something. Asa? But why? Is he mad at us again? I let out a puff of air, wishing I could figure out why he gets like that sometimes. I sneak my way around, wondering what kind of prank I can play on him. A fog starts rolling in. Perfect.

     Snoring. Oh. He found another stash of 'brew.' A few years ago, he found some strange drink that smelled terrible, but he acted like he knew what it was. I worried he was poisoning himself, but Sama told me he'd be okay. He snored louder than a thunderstorm that night. And the next day he was a complete ass. I guess this time he wanted to be left alone. Fine by me, he can keep his grumpy self to-- 

     I stop.

     That's not Asa.

     I stand in perfect stillness as I watch the man in the strange clothes. The light I thought was a fire is some kind of strange magic lamp.
     The man rolls over on his bed, the springs creaking out their misery. Then he farts. Loudly.

     My hand flies to my mouth to stop my giggle. Sama says farting is rude, but I still think it's funny. And isn't it only rude if other people hear it? He doesn't know someone heard it.

     Who IS he, though? He has yellow hair, only a little darker than mine. And why is he wearing clothes made of hair? What if they're not clothes and just him?

     He reaches down in his sleep and scratches his butt, and the hair-clothes gets pushed up. No, that's some kind of clothes, even if he IS hairy, even on his butt, but that hair is yellow like on his head. 

     I have no idea who this person is, but Asa was right: there must be other survivors out there.

     And one of them found our island.

     He talks in his sleep, yells more like. And he suddenly sits up. I instantly pop down into a crouch.

     "Jers! NOOOOO!" His hands reach up, trying to grab something in the air.

     I make myself even smaller as I hide behind the brush, watching him as he looks around, probably realizing he was just dreaming. I have to focus to make sure I don't breathe too fast. What should I do? Breathe breathe breathe. Maybe he'll go back to sleep, and I can go get Sama and Asa.

     His hands cover his face like he might be crying, and he breathes faster. "Argh!"

     I jump a little when his hands suddenly move away--like he's really angry. He takes a stick and starts stabbing the mostly-dead fire.

     Then he talks too loudly, and I don't really understand his words. "Bloody fecking pail of cat shite left out in the sun 'til it covers with flies, will you ever leave me the fuck alone?!"

     I THINK I understand his words... but the way he says them is so WEIRD. It's like they're not the words... but they are. And I've only ever heard Asa say some stuff like that, but Sama would usually get onto him about it.

     The strange man sighs and puts his head in his hands. Then his voice gets much quieter. "I didn't kill you."
     WHAT?! Why would he be saying that? Kill? As in "kill"-kill?
     But he said he DIDN'T.

     "Fuck, Rohan. Now you're talking to yourself." He distracts my thoughts when he starts looking around, his face droopy.
     Then he looks right at me!