To the Depths of My Heart

Solitude

The first two days in Kama's hut felt like vacation and Tom reveled in the quiet of the island, its silence perforated only by the intermittent crash of the waves and an occasional bird song. He didn't expect to hear from Kama or Makai so early on and felt secure in the fact that he was in such a remote location that the agents wouldn't find him.

The hut was fashioned from bamboo reeds and palm fronds bound together with jute twine that Kama had procured from the hardware store closest to his surf shop, cracks filled with mud from the forest floor. Tom helped him build part of it. He was certain that Kama employed various rescue boys to keep it repaired and add to it as needed. It seemed larger than he'd remembered, but it was so well-hidden among the lush greenery that the only way to see it was standing directly in front of it, and even then it looked suspiciously like jungle overgrowth. The inside was warm and boasted sturdy furniture made from the same materials as the building itself, with the addition of comfortable cushions of various sizes in exotic colors. There were likewise colored braided throw rugs in random places on the floor. The windows had no glass, only screen to keep out the insects on balmy nights and shutters fortified with mud to keep the warmth in when the weather chilled. There were two main rooms - a common room in which there was a small propane-fueled camp stove to cook with and a pantry filled with canned and dry goods, a water filtration system, and a table and chairs - and the other a bedroom with a low double-sized bed canopied with mosquito netting.

Tom was well aware that the hut offered none of the modern conveniences to which he was accustomed. There was no running water, no electricity, no bathroom facilities, except the outhouse that he knew was out in the back and accessible only by walking out the front door and around the building. He knew his way around in the dark, having spent many weekends on the island, but felt a slight twinge of relief in the knowledge that there was a lantern Kama had left for him, which was to be his only source of light when the inky darkness fell over the island. He also knew to use it cautiously, as the light it emanated could easily be seen from the water, should any agents get the inkling to visit.

By the third day, the hardship of living in such a remote place began to set in. He found himself sitting in the hut in front of the open door, his eyes scanning the horizon and watching for something, anything. He'd exhausted all he could use to entertain himself and found himself wishing there was a stockpile of books, writing utensils, anything. Tom had even attempted  to imagine himself into a scenario or two for self-amusement. He'd hidden in the greenery behind the hut and pretended he was a soldier in the jungle; he'd re-enacted the plot of "Castaway," using a coconut in place of a soccer ball; he'd even built himself a sand castle and acted like Godzilla. The theatrics would have been fine, if he'd had an audience, but alone they'd served nothing except to entertain himself for the moment and keep himself from going crazy. If I'm like this on the third day, he thought,  What will I be like a week from now? A month?

He knew if he thought of the implications, he would drive himself nuts. By the fourth day, instead of sitting and staring with vigilance out the door or trying desperately to fill the down time, Tom opted to sleep. He woke with the dawn, ate a breakfast of fruit that he'd found on the island and stale saltines from the pantry, went for a run on the beach, then back to the cabin for a nap that lasted until he woke at noon because of the high, hot sun and repeated the process. Darkness fell at approximately six in the evening and it dropped like a velvet stage curtain, with a suddenness that almost seemed fake. He knew this was his cue to eat dinner, which was usually a can of something from the pantry that he'd heated on the camp stove. After dinner, he retired for the night. While he'd have preferred to fall asleep right away, he found himself more often than not staring at the moon and watching her in her phases, imagining the children's rhyme of the cow jumping over her, or imagining she was cheese.