The Island

Chapter 1

Chapter 1
         Felton woke to the sound of screaming. He’d had this dream a hundred times and it was always the same. His parents muffled screaming which he heard through his mother’s hand smashed over his ear. His brother crying.
But now he was awake; and he could still hear their cries. Like leftovers in the back of his mind; or voices shouting very far away. He sat up and pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead.
He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He’d lain down next to the beach after collecting firewood and coconuts for the evening when the overwhelming urge to lay back and watch the world go by overcame him. He rarely indulged these whims since it usually meant neglecting the day’s chores. But today he just wanted to relax.
         The sun was warm and he was covered in a thin layer of sweat. His head throbbed from the heat and lack of water.
         As he blinked his eyes into focus another scream filled the air. His head was suddenly clear as he turned toward the direction of the sound. He scanned the mild waves crashing ashore and rippling water beyond for something that could have made that soul-wrenching sound.
He began to daze as he watched the waves. He remembered Tyler trying to explain surfing to him and thought these might be the right kind of waves to do that sort of things; were there surf boards on the island.
         Felton stood up and looked further out to sea as another wave crashed in front of him. He was certain he’d heard yelling, but he could see nothing. The island could sometimes play tricks on you, he thought, as he squeezed the wet sand between his toes.
         The sun was high in the sky and it glared off of the water, temporarily blinding him. He blinked his eyes rapidly against the onslaught. He obviously had slept too long or else he wouldn’t be this sensitive—or muddle-headed for that matter.
         Something caught his attention further out in the water. He squeezed his eye-lids low over his eyes and could just make out an arm rising above the blue water, arching through the air and then back down. Felton cupped his hand over his eyes to better cut out the light as his heart began to pound in his chest.
         It wasn’t possible. They would never swim out that far. His father had warned them as small boys to never go that far; even on clear days. The current was so strong, he said, that it could sweep you out to sea in a matter of seconds. And there were no life guards on the island. No emergency crews or divers or anybody to help.
         Felton was knee-deep in the water when he heard the cry for help. He knew then as he looked further out that his brother was indeed in the ocean; impossibly far from the shore. And the hand that he first saw come up from the water and then disappear, must have been his fathers.
         Launching forward and under an incoming wave he swam toward where his father had been. He’d been swimming in these waters since he was two but on this day the experience didn’t help him.  He felt as if his body was new to these movements; his arms dead weight in the water. He choked in desperation as water filled his mouth and spilled down the back of his throat.
         Reaching the approximate place he had seen the arm he stopped and treaded water; frantically spinning in place. His dreads flopped heavily against his face as he turned his head from side to side. All he could see were endless ripples of blue water in each direction. He couldn’t even see his brother now. Had he gone under too? No way. He’s too strong.
         He dove under the water and opened his eyes. The salt stung his already sensitive eyes and it was all he could do to keep them open as he searched high and low in the dark depths for a sign of his father. He resurfaced, sucked in a gulp of hot air and then dove back down. Nothing. Just the endless depths of the ocean and the burn in his eyes.
         Rising to the surface again he began to shout at the top of his lungs.
         “Dad!”
         “Ty!”
         He shouted their names over and over again until his voice was gone, and his screams were silent. He dove until the water looked like black fog. But they were gone.
         Felton looked around the surface again as he felt his legs begin to cramp. He didn’t know how long he’d been in the water. It felt like hours but may only have been seconds. His arms and legs were like lead. The shore looked miles away.
         He started to swim back with his head held carefully out of the water. His eyes burned and watered as he paddled clumsily back to shore. He scanned the long expanse of beach ahead of him but saw no signs of his family.
         He ground his teeth against the pain until his feet finally touched soft ground. He crawled out of the water, blind from the salt and deaf from the pounding of water against his ears. He collapsed on the hard sand.
         He couldn’t move. The tide was coming in and within an hour the water was flowing over his mouth and he woke with a start. He rolled over and coughed, shielding his scorched eyes with his arm. He turned his head to the side, away from the setting sun.
         Surely he had dreamed all of this. His brother was probably watching him right now and laughing his ass off because he fell asleep in the sun again. Felton sat up and turned toward the trees. The island was still. He turned back toward the water and remembered the screams that had motivated him to swim so far out. He remembered the arm reaching out of the water and his brother screaming for help miles away from the shore. It had to be a dream.
         His body protested loudly as he rose to his feet but he ignored it. He had to wake from this dream. He had to find his brother and father so that he could laugh at himself and end the rising panic that was building inside him. He didn’t shout for them; though he doubted his voice would even work. What if no one answered?
         With a sudden burst of adrenaline he ran to the path that led from the beach to their house. They should be home now preparing fish for dinner and building a fire. Life on the island required they follow a strict routine. Their survival depended on it.
         It was a long walk up the hill and he was extremely tired. He slipped often over sharp rocks and twisted roots that he never had before. He had run this path for twenty-two years. His feet had made it what it is today and yet he now climbed it like a stranger. As if his body already knew that this path was no longer the same.
         He reached the top of the hill in time to see a large storm cloud blanket the sun. The filtered light cast the house in eerie shadow as he approached it from behind. They had built the house out of random materials that had washed ashore over the years as well as with bamboo. It was quite impressive considering what they’d had to work with. He’d never seen a real house and as long as this one kept out the rain; that’s all that mattered.
         “Tyler?” he hollered as he rounded the house. His voice squeaked and he put his hand to his throat in surprise. That answers one question, he thought. The part about the water hadn’t been a dream—at least the part where he yelled for as long and loud as he could. Tyler would never let him live this one down.
He froze when he reached the front of the house. The firewood he had cut that morning lay neatly stacked next to the fire pit, untouched. The carving table where they prepared fish was clean and the dried fish hanging from it blew lazily in the wind. From the looks of it they hadn’t been here since morning.
         Felton didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the fire pit but it was the clap of thunder that broke his trance. He turned to face the incoming storm that was sweeping in fast over the sea. He could see the line of rain far off shore and watched in horror as it raced toward him. Not because he was afraid of storms, but because it quickly overtook those spots in the water where he had searched.
         The rain pelted the water where his brother had been and Felton imagined his body tossing and turning under the onslaught. The wall of rain moved forward and engulfed the place he had seen his father’s arm surface and then disappear. And he knew at that moment that they were gone.
         Felton had grown up on this island. This is all he had ever known. Over the course of his life here he had never once been scared or felt alone. Until now. Now he felt the silence of the island and knew that he was utterly alone.
         As the storm came closer and drops of rain splashed on the dry sand he began to move. He stepped slowly toward the shower, matching it pace for pace. He stared into the wall of water as it washed over him. He was so weak that his knees nearly buckled, yet he remained standing. He walked on.
         The edge of the cliff had always been out-of-bounds for him as a child. The rock face plunged down into the ocean where it met jagged rocks and crashing waves and Felton’s father had always warned him to stay away from it. But now there was no one to warn him; no one to shout to turn back.
         His father had taught him all about people and society and everything he was missing out on. He had educated him and Tyler on Freud and Neitsche; Shakespeare, Darwin and Jesus. It all seemed so pointless now. The island, history, civilization… rescue. Without his family there was nothing.
         Felton spread his arms wide and lifted his palms to the sky. The heavy drops of rain pelted his arms and his chest. He lifted his face and let the water drench him. He felt his muscles weaken as his weight shifted forward . It was as if he was being pulled forward by invisible hands.
         He thought of his brother and his father and imagined them out in the sea; calling to him. With that thought in his head he closed his eyes, and jumped.