Island Internal | Chapter One

Chapter One

          My eyes are closed. The first thing I notice is the roaring rumble off in the distance. I think of summers down the Cape. I recognize the rumble - ocean waves reaching for the shore. Closer now a wave crashes over itself. Close enough to be signal above noise. I hear the sand accept the water. A cool rush smacks me in the face. Water pours up my nose, gets in behind my eye. Ahk, salty.
          I'm on my feet now. I look down at the me-shaped impression on the white-sand beach. The water is turquoise with a subtle milky quality. The tree line lies twenty feet up the beach and is spiky with ferns and dark green bushes. The bushes blossom with exotic flowers tinted the colors of passion. Palm trees stand in singles and pairs, tall and angular over the beach and undergrowth. Beyond them, a mountain range backdrop of craggy cliffs and lush forest. The mountains look more like a giant's mighty wall - keeping out intruders, else keeping something in. To the right, the cliffs protrude out over the ocean.
          I fill my lungs, taking it all in. The air is warm and might have felt heavy if not for a breeze coming in from the sea. The sun shone high over the mountain range. My mouth is dry. I am thirsty. In search for potable water, I walk toward the vegetation. I do not attempt to answer the question that, this whole time, has been knocking around against the back of my skull, "Where the hell am I?"


          I pick up a trail a few yards into the forest. I have no idea if I'm following the path of some indigenous tribe, a wild boar, or maybe even a grizzly. A boy from Boston - I can not say for a hundred percent certainty it wasn't a grizzly bear making this trail. I watch every step. In parts, the path cuts into the earth and I can follow easily and see where I am stepping with some confidence and a wider gait. At other times, the path is encroached on all sides by growth. The ground is green there, too. The forest reclaiming what is hers. Whatever uses this trail, there can't be too many of 'em.
          I probably shouldn't but, after an hour of walking, I start to let my guard down. My mind wanders. Back at the beach, I could see as far as the cliff face to the right and to the left, I could see the shoreline bow out and cut back in on itself as it approached the horizon. No telling what was farther to the right, or even behind the imposing mountain range that seemed to lop off not more than a few miles from whatever lay on the other side of the Giant's Great Wall.
          What struck me most standing on that beach was nothing. There was nothing else. I did not see another shoreline anywhere. I did not see boats about. I did not see a single pelican or a cackling white gull like are all too common back home. I did not see so much as a buoy in that water. Nothing.