Outcast Island
Two Unlikely Individuals Meet by Chance and Find Hope
It was that time of year again. The festival of the gods. All the Islands celebrated it. Every year the celebrations and the sacrifices were different. Every 5th year, the ‘outcast gods’ had to be appeased. They required all islands to cast sticks amongst the terminally ill, the mentally unstable, the deformed, and those already outcast by their tribe. Those who lost the draw, were rowed ceremoniously to the farthest and smallest of the islands, abandoned until death by starvation removed them from further misery in the world.
She sat and stared. She was in disbelief. She had dreaded this moment since she was a young child.
Her life had been a difficult one since the moment she left her mothers womb. Her mother had died in childbirth. Unlike every other child in the village, she had never enjoyed the comfort of suckling at her mothers warm breasts, naked and new to the world. She had slept in a sand warming basket and fed drops of coconut milk mixed with bacon drippings to sustain her. Her father loved her dearly and would not take the elders council to throw her into the sea because she was born with only one arm. Later, her father died in battle when she was only 3 years old. She had become the house slave for the chief’s grandmother as payment for her fathers debts to the chief.
“The gods have chosen! To the canoes!” Screamed the old medicine woman.
She was forced to sit at the head of the large sailing canoe. Muscled men rowed ferociously against the currents that strove to keep them within their islands bay. Six ships in total sailed and rowed for three days to the appointed island.
She stepped out of the canoe. Looking back over her shoulder she saw the chief marking a pig skin map. Tradition held that each Outcast Island was to be used only twice in a century, for no more than two outcasts at a time. The Outcast Islands were all considered to be haunted by ghosts of the outcast gods, and no one but the outcasts ever stepped onshore. They were considered places of death and many of them had bleached bones leaning up against rocks and trees that skirted the shoreline.
She stood on the beach, in the shallow water, looking out to sea, while small waves lapped up on her body until she could no longer see the procession that sailed away. She had no food to sustain herself. No tools to work with to build a shelter for herself. Not even a cup to drink fresh water with. She turned and looked at the island. She had been told on the long journey she was to be left on the island that was considered to be the main home of the outcast gods. It was not a tiny spec in the middle of a coral reef, or a lonely rock jutissing from the ocean, or a shallow lifeless sand bar, like most of the outcast islands. It was quite large in size, even compared to most small habitable islands.
The morning sun had now risen high and she began to walk the beach in search of a stream or spring of fresh water. She wondered how long she might last alone, with her one arm, only knowing slavery and subjection, misery and sorrow, heartbreak and loneliness. She had never been with a man. The chief had ordered that no one was to touch her, lest she bear a child with no arms and bring shame and evil spirits upon the village.
Now an outcast on an island, alone, her only good memory was a vague one of her father holding her as a young child, softly singing her to sleep. She mourned his loss again. Now, the thought of never being held and loved by someone drew a tear from her eye, hardening her heart even more to the world.
She walked for a time, lost in her thoughts. She almost walked past the only other person on the Island. She didn’t see the canoe pulled up on the beach to her left, or the person leaning against a tree to her right.
“Who goes there, walking on my island?” It was a man’s voice. She was startled for a moment. She froze, caught her breath and looked in the direction of the voice. He seemed to be looking in her direction — she couldn’t quite tell. He was moving his head as if he was straining to see — or hear.
“I was outcast to this island this last festival day.” she said
“As was I!” he said far more cheerfully than she was expecting. “Two people cast out from the rest of mankind by the gods, for no reason or fault of our own.” He said, his voice loud and clear. “Tell me woman, for what reason were you chosen by the gods to live forever on this island with me?” He said with a slight hand gesture and bow, still seated in the sand against the tree.
“Why do you mock me?” She yelled at him. “Are you blind man?” She said hotly. “Can you not see I was born with only one arm? Must you make me scream it to the world? Am I now to starve next to a man without respect for any life at all? It would have been better to die by the venom of one of the poisonous snakes that frequented the gardens which I have now been cast out.”
“Forgive me.” he said in a softer tone. “Had I not been born blind in one eye I would have never asked such a hurtful question. I can only see shadows and shapes, and even they are nothing like the objects I touch.”
“You’re blind?” She asked in a softer tone as she took a few steps closer.
“Yes, but I can hear your footsteps in the sand.” His face turned more toward her direction as she stepped towards him.
“You can hear my footsteps over the sound of the breaking waves?” She asked.
“Yes. I can hear everything.” He said.
“You look like a warrior. Strong and scarred.” She said as she inched closer.
“I was at one time. I have never let my blindness keep me from doing the things men with eyes are able to do. I was born blind in one eye and was taken as a prisoner of war for a time. My captors blinded my other eye and forced me into manual labor. So now I am blind in both eyes, and cast out from my captors to an island with a woman I have all the time in the world to get to know!”
“I suppose we are alike then. You were born half blind, and I was born with only one arm.” She said.
“I do not see it like that!” He said with exuberance. “The gods made a perfect eye and placed it in my head. It was so perfect they thought it unfair to the rest of the world to give me another, lest all the men grow jealous! And you! You were born with the most singularly perfect arm! The gods made it and said, ‘it is so perfect she does not need another!’”
She said nothing, but a smile slowly started creeping over her face.
“Tell me,” he said. “You did not allow others in your life to shame you and keep you from doing everything that two armed people attempt, did you?”
She smiled. “No! As a young girl I could climb any tree as fast as any boy! I cut the coconuts just as well as they did!”
“That is impressive! So you are as strong as your voice is beautiful!” He said, with his chin high in the air, praise flowing from his lips.
She smiled. Then asked, “You said you learned many things other men do not learn. What did you learn while you were blind and a captive?”
“I’ve learned many things! I can weave mats and baskets just as well as I can sew and mend fishing nets. Since I was blinded my other senses have become highly tuned. I can prepare food without even tasting it. My sense of smell lets me know the food is spiced right and my hearing lets me know when it is cooked to perfection!”
“Well then I shall let you cook because I am terrible at it! I was never allowed into the kitchen! That wicked grandmother only ever gave me the leftover scraps that even the dogs would not eat. Most of my food I ate raw from the garden.” She said with a tinge of spite.
“Then you have eaten very healthy! If you know how to garden, and you wish to stay alive on this island, we could have a very nice life together. I can be your strong scarred warrior and build and cook whatever you wish. Whatever you may need done, if you are not able to fulfill yourself then I shall do it! Although to garden with only one hand, I should say, swinging a hoe or a scythe, that takes skill. You may not even need my assistance! You have learned to do these things with only one arm?” He asked with a smile.
“Yes of course! I can do most things like any woman can. I may not be as graceful or elegant as two armed women, but I still find a way.”
“Who cares about grace and elegance? Are those not just impressions of two armed people? What do they know of elegance with one arm? Have you ever thought what elegance would look like if all people had one arm? Wouldn’t people with two arms seem strange? What taunts and ridicule from two armed people would have meaning if all people only had one arm? I think this, about people with two eyes that can see! If they had no eyes to see with, they would realize that beauty in the world comes in many other forms. They do not perceive this beauty, so I do not allow their words to affect me!”
“Your weakness has made you strong of heart.” She said meekly.
“Thank-you. I am sure that yours has strengthened you as well.” He said humbly.
“What is your age?” She asked
“Thirty five. Yours?”
“A bit younger. Not that it matters.” She said “You were a warrior?” She inquired. She now stood only a few feet away from the man she was to share this lonely island with. His conversation intrigued her and drew her towards him.
“Yes, they called me The One Eyed Warrior. I fought in many battles with bow and arrow, knife and machete! I have done things I am not proud of, and ought not to be spoken.”
“So your name is The One Eyed Warrior?” she asked.
“I once was called The One Eyed Boy. Then, The One Eyed Warrior. For a time I have been called The Blind One. But now I am free! I do not need this name anymore. I shall need a new name on this island! Tell me, what is your name?”
My name has always been The One Armed Girl. Most of the time I am called One Arm.” She said with a downcast tone.
There was a pause between the two of them. She reminisced over her life and her pain, and he sat quietly in thought. Then he spoke at first softly then with a rising fervor.
“So we are both called by what we are not. Only as others see us to be. One Armed Girl — that is no name. I shall name you! And you shall name me! We are on this island together, forever! We do not need to call each other by what we are not, nor as others perceive us to be! There is no one else here! What fate is this that I should be cast upon an island with a beautiful woman to spend the rest of my earthly days with? I shall call you My Beautiful One. If that is alright with you of course? What shall you name me, My Beautiful One?”
She paused for a moment. She had never been called beautiful before. In fact all she had ever been called was ugly names.
“You cannot see what I look like. Why would you call me beautiful?” she asked. She was unsure he actually meant it.
He sat up from the tree he was leaning on and inched himself a foot closer to her voice. He bent his knees and wrapped his arms around them.
“Why must I see you to think that you are beautiful? I am blind and can not see. My judgment is not based on what I can see or what others see. I can only hear, smell and touch. Your voice is soft and gentle like the breeze on my face, sweet to my ears. Your smell is like palm trees and salt water, delightful to my nose. All these are pleasant and beautiful to me. So you are pleasant and beautiful to me. So then, I name you My Beautiful One.”
She paused and thought for a few moments and wondered if his hearing was good enough to hear her heart pounding faster.
“Come now! What will you name me! I am excited to hear my new name, My Beautiful One!” His patient smile grew larger, and while he waited he turned his head toward the sound of the breaking waves. Finally, she spoke.
“If I am to be outcast to an island forever with a man, I should want that man to love me. Although we have only been with each other for a few hours, I feel that you will love me. Ever since I was a small girl I thought if I could name my husband I would name him this one thing.”
“And what is that?” He asked raising his eyebrows. His blind eyes and white teeth standing out from his tanned face.
She smiled and giggled out loud to herself. He smiled back at her with anticipation.
“I shall call you My Man the One that Loves Me.” She said.
He smiled bigger than ever. “My love grows for you with every word your melodious voice speaks. It is a good name. Come, give me your hand so that I may touch you. Let us sit and listen to the beating of the waves on the shore as our hearts begin to beat for each other, this new day. Later, we shall begin to plan our life and home together. You shall pick the trees and I shall cut them. You shall tell me where to dive and I shall fish. You shall tell me where the best coconuts are and I shall climb. You shall tell me the best location for a garden and I shall dig deep furrows for you plant. You shall show me where fresh water is and I shall cut a path through the forest to it.”
She sat down next to him on the sand, in the shade of the huge palm tree. She was happy and yet, she knew deep down inside that she would die on this island. At least now it seemed less hopeless than it did before. She felt confident she would be able to live longer with someone by her side, but she was still unsure of how long and how much suffering she might yet still have to endure. She thought quietly for a few minutes then asked.
“My Man, the One that Loves Me, if we have no tools to cut with, how shall we build our home?” As she asked, a small wave of hopelessness shot down her spine. For she realized without tools they would not last long.
“All outcasts are cast out with all of their possessions so that the gods may have some small things to sustain themselves. I was cast out with my tools of war for they bring superstition if they stay with my captors, and what little I had in my house as a war servant. Were you not cast out with anything My Beautiful One?” He stroked her arm as he spoke and turned his face with blind eyes searching for hers.
“I have only the clothes on my body. For I was the lowest of slaves.” She said quietly.
“Then My Beautiful One, we shall be resourceful with only the items I have in my canoe!” He said with a huge smile.
There was a long pause between them. She moved slightly closer to this man she had met just a few hours ago. His hand lay in the sand and his fingers intertwined with hers. His blind eyes were turned toward the vastness of the ocean he could not see. She looked at his muscled figure and at the scars upon his body from many a battle he had escaped with his life. He seemed so care free and so unperturbed to be outcast by all of society because of his physical flaws. What vastness of character lay within such a man she wondered.
“Does it not bother you that I am a slave, My Man, the One that Loves Me?” She asked it, with an added tone said with his name, to reassure herself that he would still love her.
“You are no slave!” He laughed. “You are the high Woman Chief of your own Island! You own every tree that grows on this island, every immovable rock, every bird that flies overhead, ever serpent that slithers, every turtle that comes ashore. Every fish that swims in the reef, every pearl in every shell! Every grain of sand that blows, and every drop of water that flows off of this island is yours. You are a god over your own world! All this at your command!” His blind eyes shimmered in the bright sunlight and his teeth bared in a smile as white as a coral reef.
“If all this is mine, then what is yours?” She asked in wonder at the thought of what he had said.
“I need only one thing.” He said.
“Your canoe?” She asked.
“Canoe?” Pthd! He spit on the ground. “No man needs a canoe when he has a beautiful woman who loves him! Where would I need to go? You, My Beautiful One, are the only thing I want or need! If you will let me have you, then I shall be content!”
She paused deep in thought for a few moments. “I suppose, if everything is mine, there is nothing left for you, but me.” She said quietly.
“So may I have you?” He asked, gently squeezing her one hand which lay in his on the warm afternoon sand.
A small smile began to set over her face. A wave of emotion flowed from the top of her head down to the soles of her feet. She didn’t want to feel like a one-armed slave anymore. Here was a chance to live her life as she had always dreamed. She wanted to be loved by someone who saw her for who she really was. She knew her worth was far more than what others so narrow-mindedly saw from her imperfect physic. What a beautiful new start to life the gods had cast upon her! She had been set free from the mental bondage she had succumbed to over the last two decades. She could now be who she knew she was, herself.
“That is fair.” She said softly. Her heart was welling up inside with her new found freedom. “You may have me. The whole world is mine. And I am yours. I have everything I need.” Satisfied with her new life, she laid her head on his shoulder and breathed out a long slow deep relaxed breath.
Legends are told about this outcast island. No one visits there anymore. It is said that the gods can be heard far out at sea, moaning in the night breeze. For it is on this outcast island that two unlikely individuals found love. God’s of their own island, they spend their days providing for each other’s needs and spend their nights ravishing each other with their love.
The End
-J.C. Miller
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