The Garden
By Thomas Ault
The sea was writhing with waves that overshot the boulders next to me with enthusiastic boldness. My eyes could barely make out the scene around me, but I knew I had been saved. I knew there was no doubt Neptune had given up keeping me and knew a fair trade would be the ship that had gone down in the storm.
Barely alive, but awake, I grasped the smaller boulders whose heads lifted about the waves. As my hands slipped from their mossy handholds I felt the punishment of their sharp edges as the water turned my skin to wrinkled flesh, ready to drop away from the appendages I called hands.
I had no idea where or show I was, nor did I have any idea how I survived. I searched in vain for another living being, but there was no one to be seen. All that appeared in front of me were sand crabs that I watched as they made their way into the little holes in the sand just above the water line. They seemed to be the only living things around me.
I gathered my senses and raised myself up onto my knees. The vantage point from that height was better, but I had to strain to find the strength to stand. A piece of driftwood lay beside me and I grasped It, and pulled it from its sandy grave. It was the perfect size and I pulled the rest of my weight up, using it as a crutch. As I stood erect and surveyed the land around me, I saw something shinning. It’s bulk was half buried in the sand. Painfully, I made my way down to it, leaned over and picked it up. I brushed the sand from its outer skin and discovered it was a trophy! What was a trophy doing here in the sand? The letters engraved on it were vague, after the water and sand had done their work, but I could make out the letters , B.B.H. and then a year came into view. I rubbed it with my palm, and the sand fell away enough for me to make out the date, January 2007.
Could this B.B. H. be the initials of the one who owned the trophy? Could they be the initials of the name of the ship that had thrown me to the sea? Carefully I made my way toward the tree line that abruptly ended at the sandy beach. It seemed to be blocks away but was only a hundred feet or so. With each step I took, my body cried out to me in agony. The pain seemed like a piercing group of needles punishing my shoeless soles. I struggled to walk the distance but fell on the sand, just feet away from the weedy fringe of the tree line.
I don’t know how long I laid there, but the sun was raising its radiant head over the horizon beckoning to all that another day had come to life. I raised up on one elbow an searched the shoreline in hopes that some other human being may be there. There was no one.
Finally with my strength regained, I stood. The pain in my feet has subsided and I could think more clearly than before. The sleep had been good for me. As I gazed over the area, another object came into view, but one that did not fit the scene of the rocks and boulders of the shoreline, but none-the-less, it stood out in the morning sun. I picked up my walking stick and started toward it to investigate what it might be. As I got closer, I knew I had to be seeing things. It looked like a vacuum cleaner. I asked myself, “How in the world could a vacuum cleaner find its way to this forsaken island? “ I got closer and examined it. It looked the worse for wear, but at least it was something I could recognize. I still could not fathom its being there or where it might have come from. I drug it back to the tree line through the sand, and there, I laid it beside the trophy. I questioned once again, could both of these things have come from the sunken ship?
Survival was the upmost thing on my mind. Nothing else really mattered. It seemed to me that moving into the trees may be of value and I might discover fresh water. Maybe a group of trees that could be used for shelter, or even better, a cave. I walked a partial path, probably made by some wild animal. I followed it through the forest and discovered it led to a pond, and even better, bubbling from the ground was a spring that fed it. I knelt down and cupped my hands into the pond gathering up the cold clear water. I touched my tongue to it and found it to be sweet and pure. I gulped down several swallows of my newly found treasure. I was now assured that there were other beings on the island, man or beast I was not sure, but definitely, life could be sustained!
I raised myself up once more after having quenching my thirst. I carefully studied the area, and to my surprise, I discovered a cave not 100 feet from the pond. What luck! I walked toward it keeping me walking stick in readiness lest some wild creature should advance quickly at me from the cave. No such thing happened. It was quiet and I stood alone gaping at the cave in front of me. It has some overgrowth of vines covering part of its entrance and as I moved them aside, I was delighted to find the floor was reasonably flat and of limestone. Although it was somewhat pitted for time and the ripping water, it appeared to have been hollowed out years go by the ravages of time, water and wind. I could hardly wait to bring me new possessions from the forest edge and into my new abode.
It was an easy task making my way back to the beach as I had made quite a ather through the underbrush and between the many trees while coming in search of this marvelous place. Soon I returned with the vacuum cleaner and trophy to my new home, the cave.
As I stood in the entrance and looked out, a light rain began to fall. It was a soothing one without lightning and thunder and seemed only there to clean the leaves and rocks on the forest floor before me. Then I saw a rabbit bouncing along on the other side of the pond. He stopped, took a drink, then proceeded on his way. My thoughts then turned to cooked rabbit. I set about making a snare to catch one of these inhabitants of my new island. A snare trip was needed. Looking around I found some small sturdy vines that were alive and consequently supple. I gathered up several of them and took them into my cave where I busied myself entwining them into a sturdy rope weave. This would serve as a rope to hold a limb steady in readiness to ensnare the rabbit and lift him into the air with his foot held tightly in the slipknot. I laid the snare on the other side of the pond and set the trip to unloose a young tree bent to become the spring, when the time was right.
It had to be dumb luck when I found a pocketknife in my pocket. Why I had it I don’t know since the new rules for ships forbade the carrying around of this tool. It was a mystery implement but one that was truly appreciated. I cut a few small dead branches from the trees around me and made a small tee-pee -shaped pile of wood and surrounded it with small rocks and boulders I brought up from the beach. The easy part was setting everything up for the fire and the difficult thing was starting it.
I looked carefully along the cave’s exterior for a piece of flint or some other rock that would create a spark. I found none. Finally, I managed to find some dried grass and placed it under my tee-pee-shaped pile of wood. I still needed some method of starting the fire. As I looked around me, I knocked the trophy over and out of it a small round metal container rolled onto the ground. I had not looked inside of the trophy before so tis came as quite a surprise. I picked up the container and discovered it was an old watertight camping match container. After several minutes of straining my swollen hands I managed to push the small metal bar form the top allowing the lid to be unscrewed. To my delight, I found an even dozen matches, safe and dry inside. Someone is looking after me.
I waited for some time before doing anything further. I contemplated that my next move was something that had to be done carefully. After all, my life now was depending on the things I had forgotten about over the years but now had to rely upon for my very being. As I sat in front of my new home, I watched in silence as a large rabbit moved cautiously along the side of the pond. The sweat beaded on my forehead. Each step toward the circle of my homemade twine made my heart pound more quickly. I could feel the lump in my throat as he gradually moved closer and closer to the loop. They it happened!
“Get up!”
Groggily, I opened my eyes as the covers were thrown from my body and left me in the chill of the early morning air.
“Wh-what’s happening?” I grunted in surprise.
“It is time to get up Bill, it’s seven o’clock!”
I unwillingly rolled from my bed. Here I was, having the dream of my life and wishing I could have found out the myster y of the things I found, but…I will new know the truth. I guess dreams are like that.
