Island Life

Gary pulled a dried starfish from the pile that separated him from his castaway-companion James. “So, what books do you wish you’d brought with you?”

James leaned his head back and let out a groan.

Gary threw the starfish towards the surf like a throwing star. It pinwheeled through the air and disappeared into the side of a foamy wave. “I know I’d have brought something by Stephen King, but I’m not sure I could pick just one,” Gary said.

“Will you just quit with all the stupid?” James said. “If we can’t find another source of water, we are going to die.” They were limited to rain that collect in leaves, and the occasional fallen coconut.

“I was just trying to think about something else,” Gary said.

“Well, why don’t you think of something that can help us?”

“Staying positive does help.”

“Gary, you’re an idiot,” James said. “And that question is beyond stupid.”

“No it’s not. I wish I did have a book to help me go someplace else in my mind for a little bit. I’d think to myself, yeah, things have gotten pretty bad but at least I’m not being run down by a possessed car, trapped by a rabid dog, or hunted by a demon clown. I mean, things could be worse you know.”

“If you are stranded on a deserted island the first book you would want, the one at the very top of the list, the only one you should even care about, is a book about how to survive on a deserted island.”

“Oh yeah,” Gary said. “Good choice.” He turned and looked at the remains of their yellow life raft. It was propped up by driftwood to form a lean-to shelter. It wasn’t pretty, but it did provide shade when the sun was directly overhead, and it also gave them a small patch of dry sand when the flash storms came through. “We’re not doing that bad.”

“There’s always a bright-side with you isn’t there? What makes you think we’re doing good? That we still have our limbs? That we’re still breathing? What would make you say we’re done for? When the last bit of rotting flesh is picked from our bones by the island rats?” James grabbed one of the dried starfish from the pile and chucked it at the ocean. It hit dry sand and cartwheeled towards the surf falling just short of the wave line.

“We caught a fish yesterday,” Gary said.

“We had to eat it raw.” James stood up and stretched his back.

“I guess we could use a good cook book,” Gary said.

James laughed and shook his head. “The waves have calmed down a bit. Let’s try for another fish.” He picked up the bamboo spears from next to their shelter and tossed one to Gary. “Maximum Bob,” he said.

“Who?”

“The book, Maximum Bob, by Elmore Leonard.”

“Oh, I haven’t read it. Do you mind if I borrow it when your finished?”

“Sure.”

“Jurassic Park.”

“Definitely…”

The two castaways waded out into the surf.