The Island of J. S. Budgett

von Marcus Krug

The ocean was furious. Huge waves were breaking down on me. The storm, that sank our ship, had been going on for hours, it felt. I was exhausted; ready to give up, end the struggle, surrender to the powers of nature. But then, suddenly, when I was on top of an immensely towering wave again, instead of the other way around, I got a glimpse of a wooden dinghy not far away from me. Strangely enough, none of my mates were anywhere to be seen.

The dinghy was moving fast – summiting a wave, then going down into a valley again. Hope was like a thin straw handed to me through the dinghy, and I was willing to grab it. I reached the meagre vessel, this I know. But how I got to the island, I don’t.

I was woken by a crab trying to clip one of my toes. I got up, which proved to be quite difficult, after fighting for my life – for how long, I don’t know. Staggering along the lengthy and curved body of white sand, I believed to have heard sounds of human origin. When I reached a pile of boulders that separated one part of the beach from the other, the voice seemed to become clearer. It took me quite some time to climb the big rocks. The voice, however, wasn’t human at all; it was a skinny young sea lion trapped between the slippery boulders calling out for one of its kind to rescue it.

With no intention to intervene in the way of the world, I left the poor fellow to his own devices and climbed further up the bare rocks to the top of a gigantic boulder, which turned out to be the body of the small island itself.

I roamed the island for days or even weeks, I really don’t know. There was a part of the island, close to the beach, which was densely forested with bamboo. In between this green forest there was a little grove where I found other trees and bushes with edible fruits and berries. There was also a little freshwater pond nearby.

One day I fell asleep on the beach. When I opened my eyes again, it was a star-bright night. In the distance, close to the forest, I saw something glowing white. When I came closer, it turned out to be a long bridge made of bamboo, lit by the bright white light of the stars. The bridge led out onto the sea. I started running, onto the bridge. I was brimming with joy. I jumped and shouted: “Woohoo!” Running along the bridge, I took off, and then I flew. “Woohoo!”

I was woken out of my daze when my face and belly hit the hard sand on the same beach where I had fallen asleep the day before. The bridge’s apparition was gone, of course. This realisation was painful, but it came with a brilliant idea in tow.

After some weeks, my shirt and trousers were torn to pieces due to the fabric-eroding effects of the ever-present and mercilessly blazing sun. I just had to follow the foul smell to find the by then immensely bloated sea lion between the boulders. A thick cloud of flies was buzzing around its dead body. I covered my mouth and nose; and equipped with a sharp-edged stone, I went down into the pit. With the help of salty seawater, oil from the sea lion’s brain and a contraption to smoke the hide, I called two days later a new pair of sea lion shorts my own.

I had spent quite some time building the bamboo raft. The raft was big enough for me and a shelter from the relentless sun, made from the leafy parts on the top of the bamboo poles. I also used the same leaves for a sail-like construction to catch the wind and bring movement into being.

One morning, I set off with the bamboo raft and some small baskets of fruits and berries. It was again a star-lit night when I reached another island. This one was different, in any way. It had a strange feel about it. I pulled my raft onto the beach and went up to where the trees began. From there I saw a huge bonfire. I could also hear voices. A language that even I was able to understand.

It wasn’t humans that I encountered speaking my language. Was I hallucinating, again? There, around the fire, were thousands of lizards, snakes, toads, frogs and other amphibians. And all of them spoke my language. I was just about to eavesdrop and find out what this hubbub was all about, when a stick cracked under my feet. Within seconds thousands of pairs of eyes were upon me.

“A human.” said a wide-eyed lizard.

“Who are you, human?” asked a tadpole in a squeaky voice. The tadpole was splashing about in a bowl of water. The bowl itself sported a handle and four wheels. Mother toad, who was rocking the bowl by the handle, looked surprised down at her rather inquisitive offspring. But I was still more stupefied than any of them. I was so stunned, I couldn’t even utter a single word.

Then a long and smooth snake slithered up to me. “You mussst be Friday!” it said, “We are ssso sssorry! But you mussst know thisss, Robinssson died quite a while ago.”

“No, no, no!” A massive Budgett’s frog was suddenly breaking through the undergrowth and hopped into the clearing where the bonfire was burning. The pale fat frog with small but gibbous eyes and a big mouth, going from ear to ear, was waving its arms in front of its roundish body in negation. All the others went silent in an instant. Then the frog took out two flares and lit them on the fire. When they started shooting off colourful fireballs, the frog shouted in excitement: “It’s Wednesday, my dudes!”