writing

Chapter Six​

According to Rob's stick calendar, it was five months to the day when he began assembling the new raft. He'd named it QE 42, in nodding tribute to the ocean liner Queen Elizabeth II, and Douglas Adams' Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

Construction would have been much simpler if he'd been content to merely paddle the raft everywhere. But Rob was pragmatic enough to do extra work once to save effort on all his later trips. He'd decided to make a sail. That meant a mast and boom, and of course the sail itself.

Weaving an adequate sail from fronds took another week. Rob knew that once dried, the fronds would make a relatively brittle sail, but figured he might eventually use some of the animal hides he had tanned.


Rob took the QE 42 on it's maiden voyage just over six months after his arrival. The first trip was a circumnavigation of his local island group. Afterward, he considered sailing just far enough to the South to get a good glimpse of the big island, but a wicked-looking thunderstorm brewing in the West changed his mind. Returning to launch point seemed the wisest course.

Rob pulled the raft well above the high tide mark. The raft was no lightweight, but he managed well enough. He decided a canoe was still in his future. As he headed to his hut to prepare for the storm, he stopped short.

There seemed to be too many footprints in the sand. He put his foot next to one, and his heart skipped a beat. The print wasn't his. It was too small.

He hurried to his hut and found the tracks all around it, even going inside. Rob's heart sank. His larger storage jar lay in pieces on the floor, its contents scattered in the dirt. He felt violated. In the next second, he was elated. There were definitely people nearby! Immediately after that, he had the panicked thought that maybe they were hostile.

He forced himself to calm down. If they had been hostile, they would have waited to ambush him. He then began backtracking the footprints. He lost the trail several times in grass and leaves, but found it easily each time. He was encouraged by that. The person he was tracking was making no effort to cover their trail. It seemed to Rob that a hostile would move more stealthily.

He realized he had become complacent. After the first couple of months of seeing no signs, he'd assumed this world was uninhabited. As he'd made rope, and later built the raft, out in the open on the beach, he'd not watched out over the water. A fleet of canoes could have watched him without his notice.

Eventually, he found the spot where a canoe had landed on the beach. Rob didn't believe that it was a coincidence that this person had come ashore the first time he had left the area with his sailing raft. Whoever it was had been watching him. He had an irrational urge to resurrect his 'clothing', but quickly realized that he'd already been seen, and that in this climate it was likely his neighbors probably wore little to nothing themselves. It wasn't likely he was offending anyone.


Over the next few days, he decided he needed to meet the neighbors. If he approached them with trade goods, he hoped he could establish good relations. He knew his rope was of good quality. He had made a rig to twist the twine uniformly, giving a very solid, tight rope. The natives might not have anything of that caliber. He was glad he had made so much of it.


Early the next morning, after filling his remaining jars with dried berries and water, he dragged the boat into the water and then loaded his coiled ropes and jars in the middle of the deck. There was no breeze yet, so he began paddling South.


The day was not progressing as it should. Not only was the normal breeze not picking up, but clouds were building in the West. He hadn't planned on paddling the whole way, and he definitely didn't want to get caught in that storm building in the West. He decided to turn back. He'd only gotten about a mile.

He stood on the deck to see if he could get a view of the big island. He could indeed see the island, but a flash of light caught his attention. He watched, and again saw the flash. He realized he was seeing sunlight flashing from a paddle. Someone was out there, far off, but much closer than the island.


Before Rob had returned half the distance to his island, the wind was picking up from the West. He quickly set up the sail, and began making effortless time. By the time he reached the island, he was getting worried. If the wind picked up much more, he would have trouble landing and getting the sail down.

He was right. He had never seen breakers so big on this island, but he was able to time his last lunge into shore to coincide with a wave, leaving the raft neatly on the sandy beach. He quickly pulled down the sail, and tied off the craft. He stowed the sail in his hut, closed up the shutters, and brought the food and water jars in. Time to hunker down.


The storm was horrendous. Though his hut was deliberately sheltered from the winds of the open beach, Rob had serious concerns whether his construction would hold. The storm lasted long into the night. He knew it wasn't a hurricane, or even a tropical storm, but some of the gusts were certainly of tropical force at least.

Sometime during the night, though the storm was still raging, he somehow drifted to sleep.

​

Chapter Seven​

In the morning, he went out to look at the damage. The storm had moved from West to East, and debris was everywhere. His hut had stood, but would take days to restore it to the weather tight shelter it had been. He went to the beach to check his boat.

He would have to dig it out. It was partly buried in the washed up sand. But it was in one piece. He wondered how much of his shoreline had been eroded, and decided to walk it and see.

Just around the first bend from his boat landing, he stopped cold. There was a body curled on the beach, with its back to Rob. He hesitantly approached. He wasn't eager to see a corpse up close.

Before he'd gotten to the body, he was startled by a cough. He stopped, waiting. He could see the stranger was unarmed - he was as naked as Rob was, but he could still be a threat.

Rob cautiously approached further. He could see this was a youngster. Probably not more than fifteen or so years old. The boy was breathing shallow and was clearly not conscious. As he got closer yet, he could see obvious cuts and bruises on the dark skin. One arm didn't look good at all. From the lump under the skin, he realized the boy had a serious fracture.

The bone would need to be set, and Rob considered the options. The boy was currently unconscious. This would likely be the best time to set the bone. Trying to explain the process to a conscious teen with no common language would be difficult at best, and the boy's natural aversion to pain would likely get in the way. That decided, he breathed a sincere prayer for guidance, then rolled the boy to his back to get better access to the arm. The boy showed no sign of waking.

Rob knew that even with his help, the arm might never heal properly, but that was a certainty if he didn't try. He sat on the sand, put his foot in the boy's armpit, grabbed his arm by the wrist with both of his own hands, and pulled. The arm straightened, and the boy winced even in his unconscious state. Rob eased up on his pulling, and felt the broken bone ends settle together.

So far so good. But Rob knew he would need to immobilize the arm. He rounded up several straight sticks, a couple of tanned hides, and a coil of rope. Once the arm was securely wrapped, he picked up the boy and took him into the hut. He then went around on his morning foraging rounds, today looking to feed two mouths, and praying that the boy would be okay.


Quoski snapped awake in a panic. He looked around the hut's interior, trying to sit up quickly. The pain in his left arm brought him up short. The sight of the arm put him in a panic as well. What was this thing on the arm? He started trying to remove it with his good hand, and once again the pain stopped him. He remembered the storm throwing him out of his boat. He remembered swimming blindly in the darkness before being swept upward in a large wave, then being slammed onto solid ground. He didn'tremember this thing on his arm.

He looked around the hut again. He recognized it now. It was the stranger's hut. He carefully got up from the bed, and found that only his arm was bound. There was nothing restraining him. He started out the door. He didn't want to be discovered by the stranger. Then it hit him. The stranger had put this thing on his arm. He began removing it. Once it was off, he looked at his arm. He could see bruising. He tried to flex it, and almost howled in pain. He had a sudden memory of being crashed into the beach again. He knew the arm was broken. The thing had actually been helping him. Of course, there was no way to put it back with one hand.

He became aware of a melodic whistling. The stranger was coming. Quoski wondered why he would give away his approach like that. After determining the direction of the approaching whistle, he hid on the opposite side of the hut.


Rob continued whistling right up to the hut. He didn't want to startle the boy. He took the food inside, and saw the boy was gone. He went back out and sat down in front of the doorway. He divided the food into two portions on leaves, and said "I've brought food. It's okay. I've got no interest in hurting you."

He wasn't surprised that there was no immediate response. He figured the boy wouldn't be far. He would be too curious as to what was going on. Intentionally speaking with food in his mouth, Rob said, "I know it's not fancy, but it's decent food, and you need to get your strength back after that storm."

A few minutes later, he heard attempted stealthy footsteps making their way around the brush, as if to circle Rob. When the sound stopped for a few seconds, Rob held a handful of berries in the direction of the last sound. Without looking in that direction, he said, "Really, you should eat something."

The startled scrambling sound amused Rob, and laughing, he turned to face the sound. "Come on, son. I know you're there." He couldn't see anyone, but the kid probably wouldn't realize it.

The boy hesitantly stepped out of the brush. He pointed to himself, obvious questioning on his face, then at the food Rob had set out.

"Yes," Rob laughed. Pointing to his forehead, he said, "I see your mom didn't raise any dummies." He motioned the boy over.

Hesitantly, the boy came, and squatted in front of his food. It was clearly awkward for him to keep his balance with the disabled arm. Warily, he picked up his breakfast one item at a time, his eyes glued to Rob.

While the boy ate, Rob rubbed his own arm, then grimaced as if in pain. Then he mimicked wrapping the arm. The boy's eyes widened, and his nostrils flared. He twisted his body to put the injured arm farther from Rob. The act of doing so apparently brought on a twinge of pain.

When the boy had finished, he started to get up, and his eyes went wide with pain. Rob gave him his space, and watched as the boy walked around him toward the beach. Rob got up and followed as far as the edge of the tree line. The boy paced back and forth at the edge of the water, as if trying to decide what to do. When he looked back at Rob, his face was desperate.

Rob walked back to the hut area, and collected the discarded pieces of the arm splint, and walked back to the beach. He walked to the boat, sat on the deck, and motioned for the boy to come.

Hesitantly, the boy walked over, and sat to Rob's right. He held out the arm.

Rob figured if he engaged the boy's effort, the process would be easier. As he placed the sticks around the arm, he put the boy's right hand on the arm to hold the sticks in place. He then wrapped the arm with the hides, and carefully took up the slack. The boy winced at first, then sat still, teeth gritted. Rob had him hold the hide wrap in place while he wound the rope around. As Rob tied it off, the boy watched keenly.

The boy looked at the splint, cheeks wet with tears. Taking a chance, Rob gave the boy a firm pat on the back, then got up. He turned to address the boy. "Rob," he said, pointing to himself.

"Wob?", the boy attempted.

"Rob," Rob repeated, emphasizing the r.

"Rrrob," the boy repeated.

"Very good," Rob said. "Now I'm not about to call you 'Friday', so -" he pointed to the boy.

At first the boy looked behind him, then seemed to understand what Rob meant. "Quoski," he said, pointing to himself.

“Kwoh – skee?” Rob repeated tentatively. The boy smiled and nodded.

"Well, Quoski, you're welcome to stay till we're sure the storm isn't coming back. Then I'll take you home."

Quoski looked at him blankly, then looked around to see if he could see what he was talking about.


For that day and the next, Rob and Quoski swapped words for things around the island. It quickly became apparent that they weren't going to learn each other's language in a day or two. Rob did convey the idea of gathering more food for his jar toward the end of the second day. Earlier that morning, they had dug the boat out. Quoski could only use one hand, but with his youthful energy, he did nearly as much as Rob.

​

Chapter Eight​

The third day after the storm, there was a good breeze building, and Rob decided to take Quoski home. He loaded the food and water jars, as well as several coils of rope, as before. Quoski insisted on helping him get the boat into the water.

Rob assumed Quoski was from the large island, but figured if he headed the wrong way the boy would let him know. Quoski seemed to understand sailing, but he seemed surprised at Rob's woven palm sail. At one point he clearly looked from the sail to Rob with extreme skepticism.

Quoski seemed to have no objection to Rob's choice of heading. They made good time in the steady breeze. By noon, the large island showed itself to have smaller neighbors. Rob continued to head for the main island, and Quoski was content to let him. Rob prayed things would go well.

As they neared the main beach on this side of the island, Rob noticed that everyone was all the same color - brown. At first that seemed odd to Rob, until he realized he had subconsciously been expecting them to be clothed. He had already deduced from Quoski's lack of tan lines that the boy lived naked. He had also assumed that it would be very unlikely for a teenage boy to live naked in a village unless the whole village lived naked. But knowing intellectually, and seeing with his own eyes, were apparently two different things.

His face and ears flushed. For literally the first time in months, he was aware of his own nakedness. He hadn't given it a second thought, when he loaded his boat with trade goods back home, that he would be naked entering a village of strangers.

As he watched the people on the shore, he saw children playing, men working on nets or boats, and women working hides, cleaning fish, cooking, etc. It all seemed so - natural.

Natural was exactly what it was. He had heard of nudists back home, and had always summarily written them off as perverts, or at least kooks. Now, presented with real live people of both genders and all ages doing normal, everyday things together naked, he realized he had been overly hasty in his dismissal of nudists. He suddenly realized he needed to steer the boat and stop fixating on the people.

Just short of the island, Quoski motioned for Rob to drop the sail. Rob complied, and the craft drifted. Quoski watched the bottom, and hopped off into water just over knee deep. He shouted to a group of people on the beach. He held up his splinted arm, and pointed back to Rob. Then he walked back to Rob and reached for his hand. Rob held his hand out, and Quoski took it, holding their clasped hands high. Then he started walking toward the beach, motioning for Rob to follow.

Rob waded in warily, but before he could get to the beach, a group of teenage boys came running out in the surf and laughing at the boat. They surrounded it and began pushing it into the beach. Rob hoped for the best, but experienced an odd peacefulness. He knew things would go okay.


As Rob had hoped, his rope proved to be very popular. He traded a coil of rope each for some very well-made tools. He made the mistake of tying some of the standard Boy Scout knots to show how flexible and strong the rope was. He ended up spending most of the afternoon teaching men and boys how to tie bowlines, sheep shanks, and taut-line hitches (apparently they knew his other knots).

At one point, Quoski walked up with a man whom Rob assumed to be his father, from his appearance. The man carried a basket filled with various items which he handed Rob. Rob looked in the basket, guessed how many items were there, and began counting coils of rope to match. The man shook his head, pointing for Rob to put down the ropes. He pointed to Quoski's arm, then to the basket.

Rob pointed to the arm, then made a throwing away motion with his hand, tousling Quoski's hair with the other hand. Then he pointed to the sky, smiling.

The man looked at Rob like he was crazy. He pushed the basket to Rob. Rob, deciding not to offend the man, accepted it, and set it on the boat.


Late in the afternoon, Rob realized he couldn't get back home before dark. He thought if he could get his boat well away from shore, he could sleep on it. One of the trade items he had gotten was an obvious stone anchor. (Knowing how rare stones were in the area, he wished he could ask where they had gotten it.)

He tied a line to the anchor, then began securing his other items. The tide had gone down after his arrival, and the boat was still high and dry. It would probably be dark before the tide would float the boat. He began trying to manhandle the boat toward the water.

Quoski's father walked over to Rob and pointed to the Sun in the West. He pointed at Rob and motioned for him to follow. As they left the beach, it occurred to Rob that he was probably being taken to Quoski's home.

When they arrived at a hut, two young children shyly ran inside. The man entered, and re-emerged with a woman. Without any warning, she hugged Rob unabashedly, speaking rapidly, and looking several times at Quoski. Rob could only assume this was the mother.

When she finally released him, Rob pointed to himself and said "Rob".

She pointed to herself, and said "Wilishi". She then pointed to the man and said "Nakahai". She spoke again, too rapid for Rob to follow, but as she did, she closed her eyes, leaning her head on her hand, then pointed to the hut. Rob deduced he was staying the night here.

Quoski left to collect firewood. Rob started to follow, but Nakahai motioned for him to sit. He'd gotten used to sitting on the ground or squatting, which was good, because there seemed to be nowhere else here to sit. The younger children had somewhat overcome their shyness and were outside again.

Rob would have loved to swap stories with Nakahai, but the few words of the language he knew were fairly useless for conversation. He just resolved to be very alert at what went on around him. Nakahai called out, and the younger boy ran in the hut and came back out with a pipe and a leather pouch.

Rob had witnessed pipe ceremonies before in his own universe, though he had never participated in one. He knew enough to understand they weren't 'peace pipes' - they were prayer pipes. The American Indian people never had an important meeting, be it a peace treaty or merely welcoming a guest without beginning with prayer. The smoke represented prayers rising to the Creator. Rob assumed these people had similar practices.

Rob's assumption was supported when Nakahai held the pipe up while looking and speaking skyward. Rob had never smoked before. He had heard it was acceptable to hold the smoke in the mouth without inhaling into the lungs. He resolved that he would do that rather than chance giving offense by refusing to smoke.

The smoke didn't quite smell like the tobacco Rob was used to smelling. He wondered if it was tobacco, or some other dried leaf, or a mixture. He hadn't seen tobacco growing on his island, but it could be a trade item. With that realization, Rob suddenly wondered why he'd never seen traders go by his island. He had watched the waters closely for the first couple of months. Rob surmised that trade came from the South. Either there weren't many people to the nearby North, or they didn't interact much with the locals.

After the pipe ceremony, Rob and Nakahai watched the kids play for a while, then Nakahai sent Quoski out for something. The boy was gone for several minutes before returning with one of Rob's coils of rope. He handed the rope to his father.

Quoski uncoiled the rope, then handed it to Rob and called the kids around him. When they had gathered and sat, he nodded to Rob.

Rob deduced he was supposed to teach the knots again. Since Quoski had been in his afternoon 'class', he started with a square knot, then untied it and handed the rope to the boy.

Quoski then tied and untied the knot and handed the rope to the next oldest child, his sister. The knot made its rounds to the youngest, with Quoski coaching. Knot tying occupied the rest of the time till supper.


Rob recognized some of the food, since the same edible plants and animals existed here as on his island. But there were things he didn't recognize, as well. He didn't care for some of them, and some others he was afraid learn what they were, exactly. He decided not to ask, and graciously eat what he was given.

After supper, the young children brought in bundles of dry grass, leaves, and moss. Rob wondered what they were for, but soon found out. As it started getting dark, coals from the fire were taken into the hut. Rob quickly realized that they were setting up for the nightly 'mosquito repellent' fire.

Rob groaned inwardly. He'd gotten used to having the breeze in his hut at night instead of being closed in with the smoke.

​

Chapter Nine​

The next day brought a surprise for Rob. As he was heading to his boat, Quoski ran to intercept and stop him. Before he could get far asking Quoski what was up, Nakahai caught up to Quoski. He looked at Rob and made a substantial statement which Rob could not begin to understand, then gently pushed Quoski toward him. Quoski looked at his father, puzzled. Then, he looked back at Rob with a big smile and rattled off his own incomprehensible speech, then ran ahead of Rob to the boat.

Rob was at a loss. Clearly Nakahai meant for Quoski to go with Rob, but for how long? A day? A week? Till he was a man? Or till he learned everything Rob could teach him? Rob expected the latter, but had no idea how to even ask about it. Seeing Rob's expression, Nakahai motioned for Rob to continue on to the boat.

At the boat was a man Rob had seen the day before. He wore both a necklace and armbands, which was more than Rob had seen anyone else wearing, and from the deferential treatment he received, Rob thought he was the local chief. This man made yet another incomprehensible speech, then presented Rob with a large leather bundle one of the young men had been carrying.

Rob accepted the gift, puzzled. Noting this, the chief nodded to the young man and pointed at the bundle.

The young man took the bundle from Rob's hands and walked to Rob's boat. He carefully untied Rob's sail, folded it, and laid it on the deck. He then unfurled the bundle and began tying it on the mast.

Rob was dumbfounded. This was a sail made of tanned hides. He had a good feel for the time and labor involved in tanning the hides and stitching them together to make something this size. It was a bit smaller than his palm frond sail had been, but being less permeable, more air would be trapped rather than seeping through. This sail would not only be more efficient, but he wouldn't have to make another one every few months like he would have with the palm sail.

By the time the new sail was tied on, all the teenage boys had gathered to launch Rob's boat. The chief motioned for Rob to get aboard.

Unsure of what an appropriate 'thank you' was in this culture, Rob bowed to the man before heading to his boat. From the chuckles he heard, Rob assumed that a bow wasn't the norm around here.


The trip back with the new sail was a learning experience. The new sail was so effective that Rob had to let it luff a little to keep the raft level. He decided he'd have to make tie downs to keep things on the leaning deck, if he was going to get full use of the sail.

They arrived back home in about half the time it had taken to get to Quoski's island. Once there, Rob had a time finding storage space for his trade goods. It was against his instincts to leave tools out in the open, but he realized there were no monkeys or anything similar on the island, and no one was likely to steal anything unless he stayed away from the island for an extended period.

Quoski was eager to help as much as he could with one arm.


With everything settled in, Rob had to address what to do with Quoski. He'd assumed the boy was here to learn, but it wasn't as if Rob had a lesson plan.

He was no teacher. He was a computer systems programmer who had a hobbiest's expertise with wilderness survival skills. The things he had been learning since his arrival, Quoski had been living all his life. The boy should be teaching him!

His smattering of medical skills had clearly impressed Quoski's people. It occurred to Rob that the boy would be of limited use to his village until his arm was recovered. He could certainly teach Quoski first aid, but before he could really communicate ideas like bacterial infection, they needed a common language. Teaching Quoski English would be an absurd waste of time, since Rob was the only one in this world that spoke it.

Rob decided that the first order of business then would be to learn Quoski's language. Any incidental English Quoski picked up in the process really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Rob decided he would avoid using any of his own language to keep from confusing things. He resigned himself to weeks or months of tedious learning.


Rob's daily schedule had mostly settled back into the routine he had followed before meeting Quoski and his people. He rose with the morning birds, fully immersed himself in the surf, then kneeled on the beach facing the rising sun, and spent a quiet time of prayer before getting breakfast started.

Quoski had watched Rob the first couple of days before falling into his own routine. He walked far enough down the beach to keep his prayer song from disturbing Rob (although Rob could in fact hear him). After his prayer song, he also immersed himself in the surf before joining Rob for breakfast.

Rob knew that many American Indians in the Southeast historically began their days with prayer and ritual bathing, and he had purposefully adopted the practice when he arrived here. He had always spent time in morning prayer and meditation, but the prayer/bathing ritual added so much to the experience for him. It made him feel at the same time closer to God and the physical creation God had made. He found it interesting that the people in this world had a similar custom.

Between getting meals, making rope, practicing knots, and tanning hides, Rob and Quoski spent the balance of their days teaching Rob the language. It amused Quoski when Rob didn't know words that Quoski considered easy.

In the evenings Rob tried his best to 'chat', often putting Quoski in hysterics with his linguistic blunders.

After the first week, Rob checked and changed the splint on Quoski's arm every other day. He remembered hearing that a broken bone took six weeks or so to heal, and he wanted to make sure the boy's arm wasn't damaged for life, so he made sure Quoski didn't stress the arm while the splint was off. He considered making a clay cast, but realized it wouldn't be durable like an old-school plaster cast. He just would have to maintain the splint.


The 'chats' were becoming much easier. Rob had actually started learning some of the stories of Quoski's people. After supper one day, Quoski surprised Rob with the obvious question.

"Why are you here?" the boy asked.

Rob had known the question would be coming, but he hadn't really formulated the answer in Quoski's language before. It took him a minute to answer.

"My people became very evil," Rob began. "I finally had to get away from them."

"All of them?" Quoski asked, surprised.

"Not all of them, no. There are so many of my people. Thousands and thousands and thousands of them." (Thousand seemed to be the largest number in Quoski's language.) "Many of the leaders were evil, and that hurt everyone. I finally had to leave."

"How did you get here? You didn't have a boat. I watched you make that one."

"You were watching me?" Rob asked. He already knew, but wanted to hear Quoski's answer.

"I was told to watch. We knew that you were a new person here. We didn't know if you were dangerous."

"Only if you are a rabbit or a fish," Rob answered straight-faced.

Quoski was caught off guard by that, and burst out in laughter. When that died out, Rob asked "What made you decide I wasn't dangerous?"

"When I broke your jar, I hid in a tree. I watched you following my tracks. You were not angry as I expected you to be."

"But I saw that your canoe was gone!" Rob replied, surprised. "How could you hide here in a tree?"

"My canoe was on the East side of the island hidden in the bushes. My father told me one time that people are only real when they think they are alone. I wanted to watch you alone."

Rob wanted to say that was kind of creepy, but didn't know how to say it. Instead, he said, "I could have hidden my anger."

"From who?" Quoski countered. "You thought you were alone!"

"Good point, Rob conceded. "Why are you here, Quoski?"

"Our chief and our healer spoke with my father. They all believe you are a special person." He held up his broken arm. "I am useless until my arm heals, so if you kill me, my village loses nothing. They would just kill you later while you sleep. They want me to learn about you."

Rob hadn't expected such a blunt answer, and he didn't believe the boy was joking. He said the first thing that came to mind. "No one is useless, Quoski."

"I am," Quoski replied without hesitation. "I can't hunt or fish. I can't paddle a canoe. I can't lift a sick or injured person. I can't help if our enemies attack."

Quoski had referred to enemies before when he taught Rob the word. Intrigued, Rob asked, "Who are your enemies?"

Quoski shrugged. "Sometimes they are enemies, sometimes they trade with us. They live to the South of us, the Southeast of us, and the North of us."

"Are they the same people?" Rob asked.

"Three different people."

"Have you fought them before?"

Quoski hung his head sheepishly. "A healer is not allowed to fight. I am learning to be a healer."

"So you are a special person," Rob teased.

"Maybe later when I learn everything."

This time Rob laughed. "No one knows everything, Quoski. There is too much to know!"

"Our Healer said that to me one time!" Quoski exclaimed, surprised.

"The more you learn, the more you realize how much you don't know," Rob said, hoping he'd said it correctly.

Apparently he had. Surprised, Quoski asked "Don't you know everything?"

Rob laughed again. "I only wish!"

"But why are you here?" Quoski asked, returning to the subject.

Rob thought a bit, then said "I couldn't make a difference in my world anymore. It is important for me to help make the world better. If I couldn't help there, I thought I could at least enjoy this world. I didn't know anyone else lived here."

"You keep saying world. Don't you mean island?"

"No, I mean world. In my world, these islands are hills."

"Are you from a spirit-land?"

"No, it's a world like this one. The people are flesh and blood like your people."

"I don't understand that."

"Few people would. It really isn't important. I have no way to return there. This is my home now."

"This island?" Quoski asked.

"This world. I can move to a new island if i have to."

"Why do you want to make the world better? Why not enjoy it the way it is?"

Rob smiled. "The world itself is fine. I am talking about all the people in it. Each person uses food and fresh water. Every person makes waste. We can easily harm each other if we are not careful. So just by living, each of us brings damage into the world. So if we are not helping make the world a better place to live, then we are making it a worseplace to live."

"I never thought of that," Quoski said, astounded.

"Maybe few people do," Rob replied. "It has always been obvious to me."

"You have your own island now. Why do you care about the rest of the world?"

"I have my own island, but you and I are talking right now. The rest of the world affects me. You came here to watch me, so I affected you. You were hurt because you were caught by the storm when you were watching me."

"Why did you help me? I could have been an enemy."

"I don't have enemies." Rob shrugged.

"How would you know? Someone might want to take your island."

"It isn't what I know, it's what I choose. Someone may think I am their enemy, but I am not. If they attack me, I will protect myself, but that is all. I will not attack them."

"But if you hurt them, they will want revenge."

"There are ways of protecting yourself without actually harming a person. But I will protect myself and my friends again and again if I need to. I will not consider anyone my enemy. I believe if I treat them well, they will remember that. What goes around, comes back around."

"I don't understand that. An enemy is not a real person - they are just an enemy."

"We are all real people. Men and women fall in love and have children, the children grow into young men like yourself, and young women, who then start their own families. We all get hungry, and tired, we become happy, sad, angry, and afraid. The Creator has made us all the same. "

Quoski was looking at Rob with astonishment. He had clearly never considered this line of reasoning before. Rob continued. "Creator could have put each of us alone in our own world with everything we needed or wanted. He chose to put us all together so we could love each other and help each other. That is why I helped you."

"But you said you were from another world. Why would you care about us?"

"You are all people. You have seen me eat and drink. You have seen me bleed. You have accidentally walked up when I was relieving myself. I have seen you do most of these things. Do you think we are really different? Are you not really a person? Do you think I'm not really a person? People are people. No one has to be enemies."

Quoski considered silently, then asked "What if someone decides to be our enemy and attacks us?"

"We protect ourselves. And that is all. If we attack them, then they can believe it is acceptable to attack us again. Both sides will be wrong. The fighting never stops."

Quoski was really puzzled. "If we don't return their attacks, won't they believe we are weak?"

"If we protect ourselves, they will not believe we are weak," Rob said confidently.

"I don't understand something," Quoski said. "Why are you not afraid?"

"Why should I be afraid? If I was falling, or if a snake struck at me, I would be afraid. But there is no danger here right now."

"You are alone here. Many different bad things could happen. No one could help you. On my island, we have each other for help. You have no one. Why aren't you afraid?"

"You are here right now," Rob replied. "I am not alone."

"When I am not here," Quoski replied, waving away Rob's comment. "You lived here alone, long enough to build these things before we met. You said Creator wants us to help each other, but you have no one. I would be afraid."

"I said Creator wants us to love and help each other. There is a saying with my people - 'perfect love casts out all fear'. Creator loved us so much that He became a man named Jesus and lived among us. As a perfect man, He gave His own life so that we can live with the creator forever. Before He died, he told us that we should love the Creator, and love other people just as we love ourselves. I am not perfect, but I try to do this. And that is why I helped you."

Quoski still looked puzzled. "How does that make you not be afraid?"

"You have to try it, Quoski. I can't explain it. When we follow the way of Creator, we are at peace. When we are at peace, we are not afraid all the time. If you make someone your friend, then he is not your enemy."

Quoski's eyes widened with amazement. "That makes sense!"

"I believe it does," Rob said, smiling.

"But how do I make someone my friend?"

"By being a friend first. Always treat someone the way you want them to treat you. You start. Don't wait for them."

"I have never heard these things before."

"Maybe that is why I came," Rob said. "Sometimes our reasons are not Creator's reasons."

"If all the enemies became friends," Quoski observed, "We could help each other when the big storms come. Usually some islands escape damage while others are hurt badly. We usually hope that our enemies will be hurt by the storms, but often it is our friends. I think you need to tell our chief about your way."

"It really isn't my way. It's Creator's way. Creator's son Jesus was Creator in human form. Jesus taught the way of loving each other. He died so that if we are truly sorry for the things we have done wrong, , all those wrong things died with Him. Then, He became alive again, so that we can live forever with Creator after we die. While we live, He commands us to love Himself and to love each other."

"He became alive again?" Quoski asked, surprised.

"He was Creator's son, remember?"

Quoski thought in silence a few minutes. "I have been taught the songs to Creator. We go to water when we pray to Creator just like you do. Can you teach me to love Creator and other people?" he asked.

"Rob shrugged. "I can only tell you to spend a lot of time with Creator. Talk with Him like we are talking now. Look around you at the world that He made for you. When you look at other people, think that Creator loves them just as much as He loves you."

"This is a lot to think about," Quoski said.

"Yes it is. In my world, people have tried to make it much more complicated. Many people have said that they love Creator, but then they hurt other people, and say they are doing it for Creator! That is also why I came here - to get away from those people. But truth is still truth, even if many people only pretend to follow it. I do my best to truly follow Creator's way."


Rob decided it was time to remove Quoski's splint. He strongly cautioned the boy to not overuse the arm. Quoski seemed to understand, but Rob knew doctors make bad patients, and the boy was studying to be a healer.

As Rob removed the splint for the last time he said, "As you start to use the arm, it willhurt. Expect that. When it starts to hurt, ease up. Don't be foolish and damage your arm further. If you were in battle, you would do what needed to be done despite the pain, and tolerate a damaged arm the rest of your life. You are not in battle here.

"And if you try to avoid pain and not use the arm, it will stiffen up and become useless. Use the head Creator gave you and think about this," Rob concluded.

Quoski assured him he understood.


For the most part, Quoski did take it easy on his arm. He forgot a few times, but the resulting pain quickly got his attention.

Having seen the boy's steady progress, Rob was not surprised when Quoski said "I am ready to go back home."

"We can do that," Rob replied. "I think we have a good supply of rope to trade. You want to leave in the morning?"

Quoski seemed deflated. "Trade? You will not stay with us?"

Rob was caught off guard by that. Finally, he asked "How would I even know if I would be welcome?

Quoski smiled. "When I tell the village leaders about you, they might not allow you to leave!"

"That sounds a little scary," Rob said.

The boy couldn't hold back his smile "I wanted it to sound scary."

“You succeeded," Rob said.

​

Chapter Ten​

The trip back demonstrated how much Quoski had healed. Rob suspected the boy was 'toughing it out' and hurting more than he let on, but the fact that he was helping as much with the boat as he was, was encouraging.

Before they had reached Quoski's island, they had a 2 - canoe escort, one on each side. The occupants were clearly friends of Quoski's, from the looks and banter that was exchanged.

There was no lack of man and boy power in getting Rob's boat ashore. Quoski was swarmed as he hopped off into the shallows. He was hugged, punched, and back-slapped until Rob felt sorry for the youth. Rob was quite surprised to receive the same treatment when he stepped off the boat.

He didn't need to unload the boat. The eager villagers took care of that, leaving everything in a tidy cluster where the beach transitioned to the tree-line.

By the time all was unloaded, the village Chieftain had arrived. He hugged Rob, and motioned for Rob to follow him. They walked past most of the dwellings before stopping at the most inland edge of the village. An obviously new structure stood there. Remarkably, it more closely resembled his own hut than it did the other dwellings of the village. Rob was impressed. As far as he knew, only Quoski had seen his hut. This had apparently been built from the boy's verbal description.

The Chief pointed towards Rob's island and mimicked someone carrying things to this building. "You want me to bring my things here?" Rob asked. Clearly surprised that Rob spoke his language, the man simply smiled and said yes.


Two boys about Quoski's age accompanied Rob back to his island to get his belongings. They seemed amused by Rob's speech, and he assumed he must have a strong accent. They also seemed to be amused with asking Rob extremely personal questions, until they saw that Rob simply responded by asking questions like "Do you really do that?" or "You like that?". After that, they just spoke in low tones between themselves, a little faster than Rob could easily follow. By the time they were halfway to Rob's island, Both teens were asleep. It amused him to see them both startle awake when he beached the boat at nearly full speed.


Once set to the task of loading Rob's belongings, the boys showed their worth. Rob literally didn't have to lift a thing. He would point to something he wanted transported, and one of the boys hurried it to the beach. By the time he had selected something for the other boy to take, the first was back for the next item. Rob cringed to imagine how the boat was being loaded.

He need not have worried. When he returned to the boat, he saw all his items lined up next to it on the beach. Again, he only had to point to an item and where he wanted it, and the boys loaded it up.

It took a while to make them understand he wanted a last walk around the island alone. He didn't know if and when he would be back. Once they understood, they were quick to settle in for another nap.

Rob said his goodbyes to the island, and woke the "kiddies" long enough to get the boat under sail again.



Back at Quoski's village, Rob realized immediately that he needed to learn the name of the place. It wouldn't do to refer to it as "Quoski's village' to someone in conversation. After his trip with the teen assistants, he knew better than to ask them, though. It was the first thing he asked the Chief when he stopped by as soon as Rob had put his things in the new hut. After hearing the name pronounced, he thought about using 'Quoski's village' after all. He couldn't begin to repeat the proper name. When the Chief realized this, he assured Rob that the word for 'home' was suitable for the time being.

This brought up Rob's next question. "How long will I stay here?"

The Chief paused, looking at the ground. He seemed to be making up his mind about something. Finally, he said, "The way you speak your words is hard to understand. You also speak simply, like a child. I will try to keep my words simple. Quoski has told us all about you. I value his judgment, but he is young. He could be wrong. We want to have you here as a teacher. We also want you to help our healer. If you are not what Quoski tells us, you can leave later. We will help you like we did today. If you are what he tells us, we want you to be one of us."

"What did he say?" Rob blurted out before thinking it through.

Again, the man paused as if mulling over what to tell Rob. "He said you left your own world to come help us," he said.

"That is not correct," Rob began. The other man's face showed surprise. "I didn't know anyone was here. My own world was so bad that I couldn't help enough to make any difference. I was so discouraged I gave up. I came here to run away. I told this to Quoski."

The man was clearly stunned. "Quoski told us none of this about running away. He told us about this Jesus that you follow, and that you only want to help people."

"That is true. I just didn't want you to think that I left my world for you. I really didn't know you were here. I am just a man like you. I don't know everything."

The Chief thought some more. "This changes nothing. You are welcome here. If you are lying to us, we will soon see. Truth always shows itself."

"I thank you for making me a house in your village. I want to learn all about you. Then I will know how I can help you, and you will be helping me learn about your ways. That is how Creator wants us to live. Helping each other instead of hurting each other."

"I like you more already," the Chief said. “Some of our people are afraid that you want to teach new ways. I believe we can always learn from new ways. We know about Creator. I do not understand what Quoski has told me about Creator's son Jesus. I want to hear more about that.

"And you are very smart to keep a stranger where you can watch him closely, rather than trying to watch him from far away," Rob said smiling. “Some of my people say 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'”.

The Chief's eyes widened for a split second, then he laughed. "I really think I like you."

"I hope I am good enough to be your friend," Rob said, seriously.

"I think it is likely," the Chief said. He swept his hand around the village. “Go learn,” he said, then he turned to leave.