Short Story: Living Is Easy With Eyes…

Short Story: Living Is Easy With Eyes Closed

I felt the gentle waves push me ashore, as I swam to the surface of a deep and vacant dream. I only half opened my eyes yet the world’s life and colour invaded the blackness that had previously inhabited my mind. A tickling sea breeze triggered my suppressed senses. Where in the world had I found myself? The lunchtime sun glared into my eyes as I rolled myself onto my back, my skin tender and sore from the midday raise, my head pounding from the punishing waves. I looked down at my half-naked body - a smattering of cuts and bruises plastered my cherry tinted skin. How did I get here? My mind seemed blank, like it had been wiped clean, all my memories thrown away. I looked out far across the glittering ocean, the sun at its pinnacle in the cloudless sapphire sky. Even if I didn’t know why I was here or what happened prior to my arrival here, I couldn’t think of a more enchanting place to be if I’d tried.

“These are dark days indeed!” an unfamiliar voice hollered from a distance, somewhat blemishing my pensive state. I tried to haul myself to my feet; however my hands were abruptly restricted. I looked down in dismay at my firmly handcuffed wrists. With every movement I felt the handcuffs grapple my raw skin. They were a constant reminder of imprisonment, but I was clueless as to why I had been constrained by them in the first place.

“There is no escape from this island!” the strange voice came again. I turned to follow it, my steps frail like an elderly man.

“Where am I?” I murmured - my question barely audible. I carefully tilted my head back and scanned the tree line at the edge of the beach.

“We shall all perish on this godforsaken island!” the distressing voice called once more. I followed the voice twenty or more metres into the symmetrical jungle, my eyes were met bizarrely, by a man sat atop the most unnaturally shaped, olive green tree in the vicinity, its branches curved upwards and around the man, encasing him inside like an animal. What seized my eye though, was the extraordinary cliff which loomed over the entire side of the island. The cliff was completely made up of ruby stone from the foot to the ledge; every inch sparkled majestically in the sunlight. The man in the tree was fairly short and stout from what I could make out, his face punctuated by moles, bites and other boils of some sort. He wore a torn red t-shirt, the words J.Lypur written on the right side. Upon spotting me emerge from the glade, the man screeched in my direction again.

“They won’t let me! There is no escape! She won’t let me! This place is hell!” The man’s eyes lit up like a madman fleeing quarantine.

“Who are you?” I queried, not knowing what to expect in response.

“I’m Lypur. I’ve lived on this damned island for five agonising years and eight unbearable months, each day stuffed with madness, insult and confinement.” Lypur seemed to welcome my company, as he smiled with strange warmth from the treetop. He seemed an entirely different person from the one shouting nonsense from above just moments ago.

“It seems you’re blissfully unaware of the torture this island will make you endure.” The sincerity of his deep, Scottish accent sent a shockwave of terror thrumming through my veins.

“I don’t understand. How did you end up here? How did I get here? Why can’t we escape?” Lypur began a very measured dismount from the warped tree.

“I washed up on the beach one day just like you. I didn’t know how or why. Nobody here knows exactly why we’re here. They tell us it’s to work, research nature, plants and life on the island but, I tell ya, the things I’ve seen in this place, things your mind can’t process they’re so damn messed up.” Lypur allowed himself to plummet the last few metres of his descent. As the man drew closer, his large chocolate eyes gave the impression there was no longer a soul behind them. Judging by his matted grey hair and weathered face, he could have been a man of at least sixty. “But we are all here for a reason.” Lypur gestured towards my handcuffs. “Need some help getting those off?”

“Yeah, thanks.” I looked down in embarrassment of my restraint as Lypur disappeared behind several trees, a light sprinkling of rain pattered on the jungle foliage.

“Storm’s coming.” Lypur shouted from the midst of the jungle. After a short wait, Lypur returned, with a tarnished, old bolt cutter.

“Sorry, this was the best I could find, toolbox isn’t what it used to be.” Lypur captured the chain of my handcuffs between the callous heads of the bolt cutter and somehow managed to force the shackle to surrender to them, shooting hundreds of insignificant shards high above us, and then as gravity took inevitable control, back to the blooming, green earth. I grinned from cheek to cheek in delight at my freedom.

“That’s just the start for me brother. I really shouldn’t have done that for you. Alexandra will have me beaten for this. Don’t listen to a word of what she says, either. She’s had me trapped here for years, maybe one day I can get away from here,” Lypur said dejectedly.

“Alexandra?” I pictured some sort of jungle queen trapping men against their will.

“Alexandra’s in charge of everything that happens on the island. She knows everything that happens on the island, she more or less is the island.”

“Talk about female superiority,” I joked, soon realising it wasn’t funny. The sprinkling of rainfall was gradually increasing.

“What's your name anyway brother?” Lypur asked impatiently.

“Freeman, My name is Robert Freeman.” I offered my hand to Lypur and he strongly shook it, chuckling mildly to himself.

“That’s what you think!” All of a sudden he had broken out into an infectious hilarity at his own wit. He was keeled over in delight I couldn’t help but submit to his irony, and share his pleasure.

“That’s what you think!” he proclaimed once more, laughing like he had never laughed before. As we persisted in our childish tomfoolery, the light drizzle evolved into a tropical rainstorm of biblical proportion. I looked up to the heavens and beamed - I had never seen, felt or heard anything quite like it. As our fleeting optimism hung in its last moments, the hooting died down to a titter, the storm clung, then whimpered and returned to a placid shower. From nowhere a rigid metal truncheon struck my fragile skull. I sensed blood trickling gently down my face as my world began to twist and coil about me. I could taste blood in my mouth and the musty smack of chloroform teasing my nostrils. The aggressor tossed me to the ground with ridiculous ease. I could faintly see Lypur accepting the same assault as myself, our eyes locked for a moment before a bag was thrust over my head and the world turned black again.

I returned from unconsciousness in a heap on the stiff wooden floor. My vision was blurred and when I reached to feel my head, my hand returned crimson. As my sight returned to normality, I could make out I was in some sort of hut, alongside Lypur on the floor. I pulled myself upright and my eyes were met by a forceful, independent looking woman, dressed in a sharp black suit, looming over myself and Lypur.

“I’m Alexandra. As I hear you already know. I’m terribly pleased to meet you Robert.” I remained silent. Alexandra’s upper class accent sat flawlessly in line with her appearance. Her fiery red hair was tightly clasped behind her head, and her thick rimmed spectacles concealed her innocent blue eyes. Her freckly, pale skin appeared to be stinging from the sun. She stepped over me and leant down to Lypur, who was still curled up like a child in an unconscious ball of escape.

“Wake up, James,” she whispered soothingly in his bloody ear, he stirred momentarily, before she smacked him with all her might across his mole covered cheek. Lypur awoke with a start. “Rise and shine James!” Alexandra snarled. Lypur dabbed his weary eyes before propping himself upright. “Now Robert, I understand you may have a few questions regarding what we do here on the island, and how you fit ever so neatly into all of it, allow me to explain,” Alexandra stated, routinely.

“People on this island, they are taken from their typical lives and sent here, by whom or why, nobody knows. I arrived on this island eight years ago, in exactly the same state as you Robert; at first I detested this place, I couldn’t process the means by which I had arrived here, I didn’t trust anybody. Though gradually, I became infatuated with everything about this island, from the spectacular cliffs to the bouncy spring butterflies. After a while I overlooked my old life, such is my love for this place. I worked with a man named Jeremy; he used to adore this place as well, though he grew pessimistic of island life - he lived here for over more than forty years though, I dare say I would find such a stretch a little tedious!” Alexandra’s tone implored laughter, though was greeted rather bluntly.

“Jeremy used to be in charge here, he was a great leader and a brilliant man, until his unfortunate death just over a year ago-”

“How did he die?” I interrupted, to the barefaced disgust of Alexandra.

“That leads me on to your role, Robert if you will bear with me,” Alexandra grumbled. “Jeremy’s death was the result of a disease, which we believe, can only be contracted on the island. The disease, SFF we refer to it as, begins relatively harmlessly - tiredness and diarrhoea are some of the early symptoms. Though, the condition of the patient gradually deteriorates, vicious boils start to appear on the skin and subsequently, the disease seizes greater control over the body and, within a matter of days the ability to speak or move is lost, and only the torture of a slow and excruciating death awaits you,” Alexandra choked on the significance of her words. “and all that’s left is to end their suffering.” Alexandra shook herself down and regained her composure. “I believe that, if the disease was produced on the island, the cure can be found on the island. As James is evidently suffering from some of the early symptoms of SFF, and as you two are such excellent friends already, you can search the islands’ vast forestry together. Think of it as saving your own skin, James. There’s such a variety of plants on the island I’m sure you will find what we need in no time. Did you know there are one-hundred and eight species of plant life on this island that only exist here? It really is a magnificent place,” Alexandra managed to twist her mouth into a smirk, before turning her back on us, neatly making her way towards the exit. “And if miraculously you do find a cure, I will allow you both to leave the island, if you wish.”

I looked across to Lypur, his face unaffected by the proposition. Alexandra neatly left the hut, leaving the door open ajar. We sat in silence for a minute or two, not quite knowing what to say to each other.

“So what on earth do we do now? The disease sounds terrible.”

“I have to take you somewhere, James. But I have to know that I can trust you.” Lypur whispered, alert to who else might be listening.

“Of course.”

“Also, I need to know whether you feel the same desire to leave the island as I do. I trust that you do brother?” Lypur leaned in towards me, so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek.

“More than anything.”

Lypur and I headed off from the cabin, deep into the dense, clammy jungle, as the sapped evening sunshine held on to its last moments on the horizon. We had been walking for almost forty minutes, through vast forestry, up steep and wearing inclines until finally we burst out from the jungle. Fresh, cooling air rushed into my lungs and the sweet sea breeze began to dry the beads of sweat on my brow.

“What exactly are we looking for?” I gasped, clasping my hands around the back of my head.

“You will know soon enough,” Lypur grinned knowingly, like a mischievous schoolboy. “We’re nearly there,” Lypur measured his steps along the steep, marshy track which we walked. James stopped unexpectedly. He carefully looked about him, before pulling a thick branch away from the tree line, watchfully placing it down on the other side of the track. Several more pieces of debris followed, until gradually, a blooming glade was made visible on the other side of the dense forestry. We peered through the opening for a wonderful, lasting moment. The rich grassy meadow was at least knee height, teaming with butterflies and creatures of all colours and shapes. It seemed like the secluded enclosure did not belong amongst such inadequate surroundings, such was the contrast to its exterior. I breathed deeply and felt harmonious with the island for the first time since arriving.

“Come on,” Lypur scuttled through the trees into the meadow. “There’s something else I have to show you yet.” The small opening broadened out into a magnificent field of delight. All around the perimeter, great oaks enveloped us within the meadow of escapism. Row after row of ripe summer strawberries grew along one side of the glade, whilst on the other, a large stockpile of wood and bamboo could be seen, next to a gloriously constructed raft.

“Sometimes when I’m here, I close my eyes and everything becomes so easy. I can forget about everything. All the pain and suffering, and the fear of not knowing what might happen, it all disappears. This is my escape,” James declared jovially. He gestured toward the raft which he had ingeniously built. “and that is our escape. Three whole years that has taken to build. How Alexandra hasn’t discovered it I’ll never know, this is the only thing that’s kept me going. At last I’ve found someone to help me escape this island. It’s the perfect window of opportunity. Tide, wind direction and current should all be with us if we head north. Plus the sun’s giving us just enough light to see what we’re doing, and cover us from any watchful eyes.” James chuckled somewhat disbelievingly.

“It’s fantastic, Lypur. We had better get moving quick before we lose the sunlight. How are we going to move that thing?”

“It’s lighter than it looks, the clearest way out is just down there,” Lypur pointed towards the far end of the meadow. “when we reach the track we will be about a hundred yards from the beach, silent running, as quickly and quietly as possible. Once we’re there, I’ll grab some food and water I’ve stashed nearby. You ready?” Lypur delivered his instructions with military precision. He had probably mulled over his speech a thousand times in his head.

“Absolutely, let’s go”

As Lypur had claimed, the raft certainly was lighter than it looked, though carrying it between the two of us was by no means an easy task. We crept down to the far end of the strawberry field, before fighting through twenty yards of vegetation and undergrowth. We reached the mud track which Lypur had spoken of. The soft, clay like texture of the mud meant that our feet sank deep into it, making lifting them out of the clutching surface very difficult. Each step sapped more and more of my already minimal energy, just the thought of escaping a life like Lypur’s drove me to continue. After what seemed an eternity, we gratefully felt our feet crumble the moist sand of the beach beneath them. Lypur approached the shoreline cautiously, scanning the surroundings before placing the raft at the foot of the lapping waves.

“You did a brilliant job, Robert. You stay here with the raft and I’ll grab those provisions and we are out of here!” Lypur whispered ecstatically, though with supreme vigilance.

Everything hung on the next few precious moments. I prayed that none of Alexandra’s jungle hunters spotted the raft. Lypur galloped off thirty yards down the beach, uncovering a couple of large boxes which looked almost too heavy for the ageing man’s fragile frame. As he stumbled back towards me I gazed out across the tranquil ocean. The sun had fallen completely behind the horizon by now, shielding us in darkness, though the neat crescent of the new moon looked silky and quenching in the sky. Each scathing tip was accented by the opaque sky about it. I glanced back down the beach towards Lypur who had covered most of the stretch with the boxes.

“Good to go?” I asked, feeling like a spare part.

“Go where?” an unmistakeable feeling of dread, fear and hatred infected my entire body in one solitary moment. The smug, upper-class voice came from behind me, before I had even turned around I knew what my eyes would be met with. The red headed, fire breathing, manipulating figure of Alexandra stood before us. Her long red hair fell carelessly at her shoulder, and she did not wear her usual thick rimmed glasses. She paced menacingly towards us; her slight, toned figure moving seamlessly, ruthlessly striding nearer and nearer, as if she were hunting a sitting duck, her lifeless blue eyes boring into and through us.

“No one leaves this island. You think you can just sail away into the moonlight? I tell you what to do, when and how, I control you! I own this island! I am this island! You have no idea how powerful I am. You don’t know what I am capable of,” Alexandra boomed in megalomania. “You disobey me, and you die.”

"You can’t stop us leaving! Look at you! You’re just a little girl with big dreams. You’re not capable of anything other than manipulating and beating people so you can order them around. I can tell ya right now, you can’t manipulate me, not anymore! We can see through your stupid little tricks and lies. You aren’t capable of anything!” Lypur yelled back at the fierce looking Alexandra. “You can’t do anything to us!” Lypur hollered in jubilation. By now Alexandra’s pale face had turned crimson, frowning furiously at Lypur’s disobedience. Her fists were clenched tightly by her hips. Slowly she reached down to her ankle. Pulling up her trouser leg slightly, she pulled the knife from its holster. She propelled the blade through the air with ludicrous accuracy and velocity for a woman of her stature. The razor sharp dagger thumped piercingly into the top of Lypur’s chest.

“Don’t you tell me what I can’t do!” Alexandra exclaimed.

Lypur’s astonished face turned pale as the blood drained from his head and poured from the wound. He stared at Alexandra in love and hate, for she had at last allowed him to leave the island, though had destroyed his dream of escaping it. He fell to his knees. I clasped his hand whilst he endured his agonizing last moments. He shut his eyes, and I knew that he was in the strawberry fields, and for him, living was easy.