If my calculation is correct, today should be December 25th, which means… Christmas. Hmm, the forty-fourth Christmas of my life.
I solemnly promise it won’t be the last.
To keep track of time more easily, I decided to make a mark on the trunk of the big tree, the veteran of the island. One mark, one day. Another day, another mark.
I climbed that trunk twice and looked around; all I could see was water, nothing else around, all along the horizon. No boat, no shadow, not even a glimpse of a shark fin.
I have plenty of free time, so I try to occupy my mind with something, anything. This morning, I collected the most interesting seashells from the sand and admired them from all angles. They are beautiful.
While admiring them, the most valuable idea of the past two weeks came to me: I drew a chessboard on the sand and arranged the shells by colors and sizes.
Eight white shells and eight black shells are the pawns. Then I patiently searched for some special shells: rooks, bishops, queens, and kings. The knights gave me the most trouble. No shell seemed suitable enough, so I carved some makeshift knights out of pieces of dry wood. I carved them with my Mastercard.
Island life has its advantages and disadvantages.
Disadvantage: It doesn’t rain. If it doesn’t rain soon, we’ll run out of water, and that’ll be bad.
Advantage: This beach is peaceful. Apart from Eva, no other woman is flaunting her stuff around here, no man is flexing his muscles, no child is screaming. No one is building sandcastles, no Frenchman is coming to show me his… That’s what I call normalcy.
Disadvantage: I have no food. Except for a strand of green algae, which I swallowed today along with the water from the palm of my hand.
Advantage: So what if I have no food? I read somewhere that a little fasting makes you healthier and brings you closer to God. I feel there’s some truth in that. My liver feels better. I don’t feel it swollen like a basketball anymore. With the right mindset, I could probably live peacefully for about 40 days with just a tiny piece of algae a day.
Disadvantage: Oh, my life, I’m out of cigarettes! That’s a disaster. It’s not good… I don’t know how long I’ll live without cigarettes. Why are you doing this to me, Lord?!
But I’m a man, and men think. Ten minutes later, the conclusion is as clear as day: you don’t need cigarettes to smoke. No. All you need is to use your brain.
I tear various types of leaves into pieces. I’ll let them dry. Once they’re dry, I’ll crush them, mix them with the remaining salty tobacco, and then smoke them.
How will I smoke them?
Simple: I’ll use one of the pages of my passport. What was so hard about that?
* * *
Oh, my God! These poison passports!
I’m almost speechless, and my throat hurts like hell.
Last night, I dreamed of sharks tearing pieces of my lungs. It was as if I were on the beach, and wherever I looked, all I could see were pieces of my lungs.
To avoid being tempted to smoke cursed weeds, I shred whatever is left of the passport. I get a thousand pieces of paper and release them into the water. I’m a wise man with strong willpower. I decide to quit smoking.
My luck seems to be changing. As I become wiser, the fish have started acting foolishly. Today, around noon, I found three extraordinarily beautiful specimens in my small trap.
Finally, I have something to do. I quickly clean the fish of scales, gut them, then dig a hole in the sand. I wrap each fish in a large leaf and carefully place them all at the bottom of the pit. I cover the leaves with a layer of sand and light a gentle fire on top. Smoke rises cheerfully.
All this takes me about an hour. Eva is on the other side of the island. Well, she’ll have a very pleasant surprise when she returns.
I eat the first fish hot. I burn my mouth and fingers. My throat hurts even more, but I don’t give up.
I eat the second one more slowly, savoring every bite. I could eat the bones too. I haven’t tasted anything better in my life. I have the makings of a chef. The ones at the restaurant in Phuket could learn cooking from me.
Done? Is that it? What the hell… I’m not even close to being full.
I’m still licking my lips. I really want to eat the third one, but I promised to take care of Eva. A word is a word, so I place the delicious fish on a fresh leaf and decide to bring it to Eva right now.
I approach her quickly. She’ll be happy!
Eva is sitting on the sand, with her knees drawn to her chest and her arms around her knees. She’s staring at the waves. I know women have developed peripheral vision, so she probably saw me too.
Suddenly, she gets up quickly and hits my hand. The fish flies and lands in the sand.
“For God’s sake, Eva!” I shout angrily. “Have you lost your mind?”
The girl doesn’t pay any attention to me. She approaches the fish, examines it carefully, then asks me:
“Do you have more fish like this? You caught a four-colored fish. Are there others? I mean, exactly like this… with long spikes on the back and belly.”
“But what’s gotten into you?” I burst out.
“Do you have more or not?” she yells.
“The others didn’t have long spikes on their backs. Only this one did. I brought it for you. It was the biggest.”
Eva shows me the fish lying on the sand and tells me excitedly:
“Next time you catch one of these spiky ones, release it immediately. It’s poisonous. It’s toxic! Look at it closely! It’s called the ‘four-colored fish.’ It’s red on the belly, blue-green on the body, and has long black spikes.”
I look at the fish in horror.
“If you had eaten this one first,” Eva adds, “I’d be talking to myself now. I’ve seen the fishermen in Burma avoiding it in horror. Our guide told us that at the base of the spikes, there are small vesicles with a very strong poison. He said that if you somehow get pricked, the poison passes from the spikes into the blood and quickly reaches the brain.”
“And you die?”
“In the end, yes, you die, but first, you become paralyzed and have some horrible hallucinations. Then comes delirium, and finally, death by suffocation. The poison from the spikes won’t let you breathe.”
The horror seeped deep into my bones.
“Nowhere is safe these days!” I stammer. “Not even on a deserted island.”
“Exactly. Next time you catch one of these, don’t eat it and don’t touch it.”
“I won’t eat it and won’t touch it,” I repeat angrily.
* * *
I’ve been playing chess since this morning. The island and the ocean around me have disappeared. The only thing I see now are the 64 squares I drew in the sand. It’s my square world.
After each move, I get up and walk to the other side of the board. I’ve managed to win seventeen times and lose seventeen times.
But I’m not discouraged.
I’m not hungry at all anymore. My little fish trickery has been successfully multiplied. Yesterday afternoon, Eva helped me build a trap, and this morning I made another one. Soon, the entire shore of the island will be dotted with traps, and I’ll start a small business in the fishing industry.
Eva ate two of those flat, beautifully striped fish. They weren’t poisonous. I see her moving normally, lively.
It’s good here on the island. I have a strange feeling of happiness. I’ve found my own little piece of the world, and let the others go to hell. Perhaps somewhere far away, wars start or end, negotiations take place, cities are bombed, thousands and thousands of hectares of forest are being cut down, but what does any of that have to do with me and my island?
The future doesn’t scare me. I have food. I have peace. I’m fine here!
In other people’s world, there are billions of robots waking up early, drinking their coffee on the go, and rushing to work. Good for them! As far as I’m concerned, they can work until they drop dead. I’ll never do it again. I have my island here. I’m the king.
Somewhere – very far away – billions of wretches sell themselves for a piece of bread. Jobs, idiot bosses, banks, loans, medications, stress, bills… little brats that need to be wiped and educated to become good slaves.
But I’m way above all this nonsense. I’m the king of the deserted island! I have light. I have warmth. Everything is free. I give the finger to the Gas and Electricity guys. I have enough food. Fish means food, right? It has vitamins. What do I care about all those supermarkets with thousands of shelves loaded with millions of products?
Drinking? No, thanks! I don’t even feel the need to get drunk anymore. Getting drunk means escaping. Why escape? I want lucidity! I want to be awake here every second.
I want to feel life because life is beautiful!
If I want a terrific bath among foamy and warm waves, the Pacific is my private pool. The best drug for calming the nerves is a prolonged swim.
I’m a happy man, and right now, I’m going to start the eighteenth chess game.
This time, I’m sure to win!
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