The Swirling Lights of Paradise

Chapter 2 - The Island A feeling grew inside Harold. A wetness was apparent around his forehead. Consciousness began to return to him. It grew to a point where he could open his eyes. He felt he had to as the white light he now remembered was still there burning into his eyelids. As he opened his eyes, his retinas began to throb. It was quite bright still but as he adjusted to the light, his surrounds became apparent. That wetness around his forehead was a small puddle of water. He was lying flat with his head in a puddle of water. No, not a puddle. A wave just hit him. He was lying at the edge of a beach with the sea lapping up onto him. As he raised his head and began to stand up, he could now see where he was. He looked ahead to see a veritable wall of trees and shrubs lining a beach of white sand. He turned around. An endless ocean view is what greeted him. “Where the hell am I?” He said to himself. He turned around again. This time more slowly. He wanted to take in exactly where he was. He surmised fairly quickly that he was standing on a beach on an island. Well it may not be an island, but it had coconut trees, fruit bushes and all the relevant flora that goes with a tropical island in the South Pacific. It even had a mountain at one end of the beach in the distance. No make that a volcano. There was a distinct plume of smoke rising out of the top of it. The sea was just the sea. No ships, waves, rocks or any distinguishing feature was there. No other islands. Not even seagulls! Harold had a million questions rush through him. “What is this place?”; “How did I get here?”; “It's bright and sunny here. When I left it was ten o'clock at night. What's up with that?” These were the first and more obvious questions he pondered. Of course, there were no answers. He was on this tropical island in the middle of the day and alone it would seem and getting wet shoes. He then moved out of water's edge onto the beach itself. “Maybe this is a dream? Maybe my subconscious wanting me to be the macho hero has manifested this scenario?” He thought. “No! Don't be ridiculous! You are a rational thinking smart man. This beach is real. These shoes are really wet. No I am really here!” He thought further. Harold then started to ponder what he was going to do next. The most logical thought was to remain close to this spot, just in case that swirling light reappeared. He might be able to catch a ride back home. In fact, it could be the only way back home. He wasn't going anywhere just yet. So he sat down on the beach and took off his shoes and socks. He tried to dry them in the warm sun and waited for the swirling light to reappear. He also kept an eye out for any ships or boats on the water. Maybe someone might come along to explain what this place was and how he came to be here. After about an hour (could have been two, Harold had no way of telling time), nothing had happened and he was beginning to get hungry. Harold knew the basic primal instincts of humans was survival. This initially meant food and water. He needed to find some. But his overriding instinct, at this stage, was to stay right where he was. That swirling light can't be far away. He had to be ready to jump in to it. It may not be visible for very long. He continued to wrestle with these thoughts. But in the end, hunger got the better of him. He acknowledged to himself that the primal instincts of humans would always win out. He had to find food and water. Well food for starters. But this brought on another dilemma in himself. He was shy and timid by nature. The thought of taking such a dangerous risk as moving away from the only spot that may get him home was preventing him from making any effort to find food. But his hunger, like a raging bull inside of him, forced him to do the unthinkable. It did it in an intellectual way though. Harold was a thinker. He merely had to convince himself that finding food was the best thing for him. “You don't know that the swirling light will return to this exact spot, if at all” He thought to himself. “It may never return. You could die of starvation, waiting for something that will never happen. It could though and if I'm not close enough, I might miss my only chance to get home. Yes, but what's waiting for you at home? Your cat? Your very exciting job in the Library? Come on. This is your big chance to make a man of yourself. It wouldn't be the worst thing to happen to you if you spent the rest of your life on a deserted tropical island, now would it? How about this? What if I got some food, then returned here every so often? This would increase my chances of getting back home and I wouldn't starve to death!” These were the arguments that were going on inside Harold's mind.