16 views
The Island
INTRODUCING
The Island
written by
Jackson Snyder
concept idea by
Zach Preston
title by
Quinn Holmes
picture choice by
Nightingale Eminem
The kids insisted on buying an inflatable float on our way to the beach. They chose the biggest one, a yellow circle with some rocks and a crab in relief. In the center was a palm tree that was also inflatable, two meters of trunk and long plastic leaves. When we got to the beach, since we didn’t have an air pump, it took us almost two hours to blow it up. I would have preferred to stay on the sand reading, but Alberto doesn’t know how to swim, and Laura is still too little to take care of him. When we threw the island in the water and the kids saw it floating there they got so excited they insisted we get on immediately.
The plastic surface was so new that its smell masked the smell of bodies covered in suntan lotion. I observed with satisfaction that the palm tree cast shade, because in addition to plastic leaves it had some fronds made of fabric that made a kind of umbrella. I lay down and, as the kids endeavored to navigate by kicking the water with their feet, I started reading.
I don’t know if the wind suddenly picked up or if I was just so distracted that I didn’t realize the effort the kids were making to move us away from the shore, but the fact is that when I raised my eyes from the book the distance that separated us from the coast was so large that the crowds of beachgoers had become invisible. Laura and Alberto continued chatting in that tone I’d accepted as the background to my reading so I’d know they were still alive. Before I began to feel afraid, I felt a split second of joy at the thought that their voices were the only traces of human life anywhere near me. The next human thing I heard was my gasp, a moan of anxiety as I worried how we’d get back.
I checked the direction of the wind. The island continued to move us farther from land, pushed along by the leaves of the palm, which acted as a sail. I grabbed the trunk and bent it in half, fixing it in place with Laura’s ponytail holder. This stopped our advance to some extent, but the sea continued to pull us away from the beach. I considered my options. Being an excellent swimmer, I could maybe still reach the shore, following the current diagonally. But I’d have to go alone, and I doubted that Laura and Alberto would follow my instructions to remain on the island until I returned with help. I could maybe trust Laura, but Alberto never listened. If I could’ve been certain that there was no chance of rescue for them, I would’ve left them there. I’d have jumped into the sea to save one of the three castaways, at least. In the end, I opted to wait and, faced with the possibility that no one would ever find us, I felt the ridiculousness of a father who chooses to die alongside his children.
When I heard the motor, I realized I wouldn’t have to become a martyr. The Coast Guard was approaching on a jet ski that towed a stretcher. A few minutes later, the beach became visible. First the colorful umbrellas, then the colorful people, then the shouts, the bare bellies, the ice chests and salami...
The Island
written by
Jackson Snyder
concept idea by
Zach Preston
title by
Quinn Holmes
picture choice by
Nightingale Eminem
The kids insisted on buying an inflatable float on our way to the beach. They chose the biggest one, a yellow circle with some rocks and a crab in relief. In the center was a palm tree that was also inflatable, two meters of trunk and long plastic leaves. When we got to the beach, since we didn’t have an air pump, it took us almost two hours to blow it up. I would have preferred to stay on the sand reading, but Alberto doesn’t know how to swim, and Laura is still too little to take care of him. When we threw the island in the water and the kids saw it floating there they got so excited they insisted we get on immediately.
The plastic surface was so new that its smell masked the smell of bodies covered in suntan lotion. I observed with satisfaction that the palm tree cast shade, because in addition to plastic leaves it had some fronds made of fabric that made a kind of umbrella. I lay down and, as the kids endeavored to navigate by kicking the water with their feet, I started reading.
I don’t know if the wind suddenly picked up or if I was just so distracted that I didn’t realize the effort the kids were making to move us away from the shore, but the fact is that when I raised my eyes from the book the distance that separated us from the coast was so large that the crowds of beachgoers had become invisible. Laura and Alberto continued chatting in that tone I’d accepted as the background to my reading so I’d know they were still alive. Before I began to feel afraid, I felt a split second of joy at the thought that their voices were the only traces of human life anywhere near me. The next human thing I heard was my gasp, a moan of anxiety as I worried how we’d get back.
I checked the direction of the wind. The island continued to move us farther from land, pushed along by the leaves of the palm, which acted as a sail. I grabbed the trunk and bent it in half, fixing it in place with Laura’s ponytail holder. This stopped our advance to some extent, but the sea continued to pull us away from the beach. I considered my options. Being an excellent swimmer, I could maybe still reach the shore, following the current diagonally. But I’d have to go alone, and I doubted that Laura and Alberto would follow my instructions to remain on the island until I returned with help. I could maybe trust Laura, but Alberto never listened. If I could’ve been certain that there was no chance of rescue for them, I would’ve left them there. I’d have jumped into the sea to save one of the three castaways, at least. In the end, I opted to wait and, faced with the possibility that no one would ever find us, I felt the ridiculousness of a father who chooses to die alongside his children.
When I heard the motor, I realized I wouldn’t have to become a martyr. The Coast Guard was approaching on a jet ski that towed a stretcher. A few minutes later, the beach became visible. First the colorful umbrellas, then the colorful people, then the shouts, the bare bellies, the ice chests and salami...
