Kit first felt the dull ache in his shoulder as he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and saw the blue sky above him. He breathed in and out. His limbs felt heavy, as if weights were resting on them, and even if the ground he was lying on wasn't really comfortable, it was enough to make him not want to get up. Rough sand stuck to his cheek, which was lying on the cool floor. It was hot and stuffy in his clothes, everything was damp and sticky. He could hear the sound of the sea and, if he concentrated, there were other sounds that he couldn't quite place. The memory of what had happened last came back with surprising clarity. He had been on the run and had been injured. Shell had been with him, frightened and frozen. Groaning, he straightened up and looked around as best he could with his aching body. The wound on his arm seemed almost insignificant; the slightest movement made his whole back ache, especially his neck. With a stiff neck, he tried to turn his head as best he could. He had been washed up on a large beach, with scattered fragments of wood lying around him. Shards of glass mingled with shells and seaweed. He squinted to get a better look at what lay in the distance, but quickly realised that he was alone. There was no sign of Shell. Kit had to get up and go and look for him. He looked suspiciously at his legs. He was sure that nothing was broken, but they were still extremely painful. First he took off his shoes and then carefully undid the button on his trousers. He carefully peeled himself out of the clammy fabric. His legs were covered in small cuts and large bruises. One ankle was slightly swollen, but at best only the ligaments were overstretched. When he was washed ashore, the waves must have dragged him roughly over small reefs and coarse sand several times. Discouraged, he pressed his face into his hands and massaged his temples. He had to stay calm. He was alive. His shoulder injury was burning like crazy, but it was no longer bleeding and seemed to be less deep than he had initially assumed. The fact that everything hurt had the advantage of taking the focus off his arm and making it seem less important. Nevertheless, tears welled up in his eyes. Blinded by the colour intensity of his surroundings and the absurdity of the situation, he felt like crying. He had to catch himself quickly and avoid the nervous breakdown. Kit needed something to do. He slowly straightened up despite the pain and gathered his shoes and trousers. Further up the beach, the vegetation began to grow. Small palm trees and sprawling bushes grew between the rocks. A good place to let his clothes dry and draw up a plan. Kit suddenly had to smile. There was one good thing about it: if he had been washed ashore in England, he wouldn't have had a chance to dry his clothes. When he made it to the first ledge, he carefully laid out his clothes and waited. If his fellow students knew he was on a beach somewhere in South America, they would be jealous.
"Sorry Jamsie, I don't have time for a coffee, I'm in the Caribbean. In South America. Central America? Who knew that? Yes, right by the beach. Marvellous view. Blue sea, white sandy beach. Just a few sharp shells. Yes, yes. The jungle is also right next door. You can really experience something there! I'd send you a postcard, but I don't think I'll be able to track down a postman," Kit mumbled as he watched his clothes dry. If he had engaged with Shell a little more and listened to him, it was quite conceivable that the boy could have given him useful survival tips for the jungle. But Kit had insisted on algebra, and that was what he got for it. His concern for Shell lessened as Kit realised that he clearly had a better chance of survival than he did. When his clothes were no longer wet, Kit decided to put his trousers and boots back on, improvise a kind of bandage for his shoulder from his jacket and roll up the sleeves of his shirt. The more he moved and his muscles loosened, the more the pain eased. When he finally felt ready, he set off to explore the beach. It was safer to move along the water than to crawl through the bush and the chance of spotting a ship or Shell was also greater. If he got lost in the forest, that would probably be the end for him.
The beach seemed endless to him. Kit had the feeling that he was travelling in slow motion. He estimated that he had been travelling for several hours, but every tree and bush looked the same, the vegetation didn't change significantly and there was no one to be seen for miles. He didn't even see any animals. He was thirsty and starving. But his only chance was to keep walking. As the sun slowly set, Kit missed a stone and fell lengthways. He tried to support himself and get up, but his arms gave way with every attempt. They trembled and despite all his willpower, Kit couldn't manage to get up again. All he could do was turn onto his back.
"Dear Jamsie, my holiday ends here again. Death overtook me prematurely. Give my regards to our fellow students," Kit whispered to the sky and was about to close his eyes when he imagined he had received an answer. He didn't understand the words if they were words at all. Kit listened up. Had he just imagined it? Hallucinations of all kinds were quite normal before the approach of death. Then he heard the voice again, this time it was closer. Suddenly a head moved into his field of vision. Large brown eyes looked at him with amusement. A child, perhaps 14 years old, stood leaning over him. It wore subtle red face paint and had short fringes. It reminded Kit a little of Shell. No, not Shell, but Yuan. Kit thought of the photo that he had defended with his life. The child spoke to him, but Kit couldn't recognise the language. It crouched down on the ground with him and interpreted his silence as severe exhaustion. It pulled something to eat from a small bag and held it out to Kit. It seemed to ask a question and when it again got no answer, it put the food aside and heaved Kit's head into its lap. A pouch appeared before Kit's eyes and was placed against his lips. Water flowed down his throat and burned like fire, his throat was so dry. He coughed. Then the child picked up the food again, a kind of bread, and tore off a small chunk. He spoke to Kit and demonstrated with his teeth that he should chew well. Kit nodded. The child then put the food in his mouth and Kit did his best to chew. He was enthusiastic and clapped in motivation when Kit managed to swallow the bread. Then he shouted something in his own language in an indeterminate direction and a soft murmur was followed by three more children who joined them. They had probably stayed hidden in case Kit posed a threat. I wonder if they had been watching him. They formed a circle around Kit's head and put all their water supplies together to feed him. They all had the same black hair with short fringes, just different lengths. Not all the faces were painted, one girl, who was considerably older than the other children, wore gold earrings and feathers in her hair. She touched Kit's forehead curiously and brushed a strand of hair to one side. To Kit's amazement, they weren't shy or scared. The girl giggled and then reached for Kit's hand. She felt his pulse and Kit saw how pale he was compared to her. His skin seemed almost transparent. His veins stood out and his knuckles were reddish in colour. She then lovingly placed his hand in her lap and continued to hold it while the others continued to help him drink and occasionally put some bread in his mouth. The legs Kit was lying on were still warm from the day's sun and therefore pleasantly cozy and soft, as was the girl's hand. Kit wondered whether he had perhaps been blessed with time after all and had been rewarded for all his disappointments and wasted efforts with peace and quiet. As he was about to close his eyes, the children were suddenly alarmed. They talked to him and tried to get the stranger to his feet. They pulled on him and encouraged him to stand up. Kit found it difficult to be motivated to stand on his own two feet. But the bread and water mobilised hidden reserves of strength so that he could let the children guide him. Only now did he realise that they were more or less naked. The younger ones wore scanty bast skirts and the two older ones wore a kind of loincloth or short skirt. Kit, who had got used to seeing naked children around him by now, was fine with it and didn't mind. Excitedly, they led him to the rocks and from there, past the palm trees and bushes into the thicket of the forest.
They followed a small path. It got darker with every step, which was because the sun was getting lower and lower and the canopy of leaves was getting thicker and thicker. Kit paid close attention to where the children were going and did the same. They went deeper and deeper into the forest and after a while were accompanied by fireflies and soft rustling on the ground. Kit would have been worried if the children hadn't been with him. They led him safely over the uneven ground to a clearing. When Kit emerged from between the trees, he was suddenly wide awake. A small valley stretched out before him, enclosed by two small mountains. They were approaching a marketplace with small stalls and houses. The path was lit with small fire bowls and torches, many houses were decorated and hung with colourful fabrics. The path of the main street was paved with stones and led down to a temple that had been built like a pyramid. In front of it was a large fireplace and all around it were houses and dwellings, some of which had been carved into the rocks. The village was small, yet there was no lack of splendour and beauty. Kit couldn't stop marvelling and looked around with interest. The ornaments and living quarters carved in stone were certainly several thousand years old. He could hardly imagine that he had just been wandering around on the beach and now it seemed as if he was in the deepest rainforest and at the same time in the lofty heights of the mountains. Kit knew nothing about nature research, but he knew about art and he could see how lovingly the old had been preserved and how skilfully the new had been inserted into the picture. If a waterfall appeared out of nowhere, Kit would not be surprised. This place was picturesque. He barely noticed the few people on the street, so mesmerised was he by the buildings around him. For the first time, Shell could understand why he wanted to be here rather than at home in London. The children took him to the fireplace and set him down on a step. The fireplace was set into the ground and steps had been built in a circle around it in the shape of a terrace. It reminded Kit a little of a theatre. They said something to him and indicated to Kit that he should stay seated. Then they walked off quickly and Kit was left alone.
"Thank you!" he called after them, even though they probably didn't understand him anyway.
Dear Jamsie, false alarm. I'm still alive, even though I've come to a place that looks like heaven. Do you remember the play A Midsummer Night's Dream? Imagine if it had been set in the jungle and I had more talent as a set designer, Kit added mentally as a note. If he'd had a cold beer now, the evening would have been particularly successful, despite all the circumstances. He suddenly heard quick footsteps behind him and when Kit turned round, he saw an older man in plain, traditional clothing accompanied by a familiar face. The red hair was adorned with blue and green feathers and had never matched his surroundings so well. The area around his eyes was painted a reddish colour and he had changed his clothes for a skirt. A few pieces of jewellery also caught Kit's eye. 'So that's what you really look like,' he thought as he scrutinised Shell. The children followed the two of them, talking excitedly in their own language. With his arms folded, the man stopped in front of Kit and glanced at Shell with a critical eye. Meanwhile, the older girl with the earrings had hooked onto Shell and was speaking to him in a low voice. Shell nodded and stepped close to Kit so that he slowly stood up. For a moment, they looked at each other in silence. Then Shell smiled vaguely and Kit returned it timidly.
"I thought it was over for me. I must say, I'm really glad to see you," Kit confessed and toyed with the idea of hugging Shell, but the boy demonstratively took a step back.
"I've never seen this man before, you can capture him and eat him," Shell commented dryly and turned away from Kit.