Island Pleasures

by Noah Harris

“I know that one,” Xanathen replied, with a superior air, his eyes looking down at Barry knowingly. “We are all made from the elements. The earth makes our bodies. The fire gives us life and drive. The water gives us compassion and reflection. The air gives us a voice. We are all a combination of those, but some have more of one than the other.”

  “Really,” Barry replied bluntly with an unamused look.

  “Really! Some are mostly water and earth, so they’re—”

  “Mud. Water and earth is mud,” Barry said, shaking his head. He remembered one girl he had gone out with who talked insistently on the zodiac and the elements. He couldn’t get out of that situation fast enough.

  “Exactly! And like mud, they do not move or talk. They are content to sit and reflect, and perhaps dream, yet do nothing. See? You have a better understanding of this than you think.”

  “Oh, I understand it, I just don’t believe in it. But alright, enlighten me. What are you?”

  “Me? What element am I?” Xanathen replied, as he too found a place to comfortably lean against the bank. He puffed out his chest proudly with a wide grin, displaying his muscular arms to reflect the moonlight on his drenched body. “I am a perfect mix of all four.”

  “Of course, you are,” Barry snorted, keeping his eyes on Xanathen who leaned back and flexed. The way the big man’s body seemed to glow in the light gave him a heavenly aura. Though Barry had rolled his eyes at the bold and slightly conceited comment, he couldn’t help but silently agree with Xanathen’s assessment of his own perfection. Continuing on, Barry asked, “Then tell me, o wise one, exactly what am I?”

  Xanathen brought his flexing to a halt and moved to put his hands on Barry’s cheeks, leaning his face in closer. He caught Barry’s eyes with his gaze and locked on, staring deeply. Startled by the contact, Barry’s face flushed immediately. He looked back into Xanathen’s eyes, his face still cupped in the big strong hands. In the moonlight, his gleaming gold eyes seemed even more enchanting than before. He felt his body erupt with heat and melt, going limp into Xanathen’s strong arms. Barry didn’t know what was going to happen but he felt his internal struggle of excitement versus fear. His entire being felt a strange happiness, content to be held in this position. Suddenly all his anxiety faded away and he was content to lay back and surrender. Still, something in his head continued to scream into the darkness that this wasn’t right, and his body became tense once again. His mind panicked as Xanathen leaned in closer, their noses bumping and their eyes barely an inch apart. Their foreheads pressed together as Xanathen held his round face in his hands.

  “You’re at conflict with yourself,” Xanathen murmured.

  “Huh?” Barry snapped out of his trance, his heart still beating a thousand times per minute.

  “I can see it in you,” he continued gently. “I thought at first you were pure fire. But no, you’re more than that. You’re a man of fire and water. Natural enemies.”

  “N-Naturally,” Barry bleated, with a nervous chuckle. “What does that mean?”

  “Fire is passion, ambition, and drive. Fire is what moves us. Water is our deep feelings, reflection and emotion. You say what you will, and do what you want, but you are constantly at odds with yourself and your feelings. You’re never sure if you can have both at the same time and still live in harmony, you just have to figure it out.”

  Barry stood quietly as he felt a storm raging within himself. Xanathen’s observations brought even more inner turmoil. Having a light illuminate the situation, as vague as it was, made all of his feelings and thoughts viciously boil to the surface without warning. His heart beat furiously as he felt himself giving in to something. He wasn’t sure if it was the roaring fire within him or the crashing ocean, using Xanathen’s analogy, but amidst the chaos, one of the two was telling him to surrender.

  “Wh-what would that be?”

  Xanathen was focused on Barry as well. As much as he knew he should pull his hands away from those soft cheeks, he felt they were in the right place. As he looked into Barry’s wide round eyes, he felt pulled in by the raw passion that lay behind them. His energy was contagious, and while he seemed to always need to be right or on top, Xanathen found it endearing. The spirit that kept him going, even in the harshest of times was almost familiar. He looked at Barry and giggled to himself, still surprised at how bewitching he found him. From his narrow, muscular frame to his golden hair, the big man even found himself adoring Barry’s skin, which appeared as white as the moon. To Xanathen, Barry was the exotic new thing that had dropped out of nowhere into his home. He looked like some kind of special being, made from the stars. Xanathen felt a strong force pulling him in. Remembering the question, he finally answered.

  “Steam,” he whispered, as his eyelids lowered.

  The gold of his eyes was hidden as he closed them and began to lean in. He pursed his lips as they drew nearer to Barry’s. Everything within Barry flamed with anticipation. His eyelids lowered as he felt his own lips begin to pucker, his body instinctively leaning in to bring his own face closer. Their lips drew nearer, just barely meeting when a jolt of shame crackled through Barry with a silent scream of ‘NO!’ His eyes squeezed tight as he abruptly dropped down into the water, swimming quickly to the other side. Xanathen stood there with open eyes and empty hands, as Barry emerged across the lake from him. Xanathen, as cool as before, turned to him with surprise.

  “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Yeah, I, uh...I thought I felt a fish,” Barry replied sheepishly from across the lake. “My bad.”

  That ended their long swim, and the two dressed themselves, both seemingly content to bask in the silence, or perhaps unsure how to break it. They remained at arm’s length, unable to sustain eye contact. Instead, they agreed to camp for the night. At an extra distance away from each other, they each curled up on the soft grass and lay staring up at the sky. The moon still hung low and large.

  “Huh,” Barry said simply as he stared up at it.

  “Hm?”

  “The moon.”

  “What about it?” Xanathen asked quickly.

  “It’s still there.”

  “Well, of course it’s still there, it is night-time after all,” Xanathen replied with a chuckle.

  “No, I mean it’s in the exact same spot,” Barry replied, pointing to it. “The moon moves, too. It’s been a few hours, it should have moved by now.”

  “Oh.”

  The two sat in silence. Barry stared at the moon in confusion, but glanced back over to Xanathen every now and then, perplexed by the defeated look on his face. He never thought he would see the proud Xanathen look so dejected. He looked back up at the mysterious moon periodically and let his mind wonder about it. It was so abnormally big and seemed content to just sit in one place. It made his head hurt as he thought about how that could possibly happen. He would then dart his eyes back to Xanathen, whose melancholic eyes and dark lips were curved into a sad frown. He flipped back and forth between the logistics of the moon, and then his crushed comrade. As he looked back at the moon, he thought how he would never be able to explain it if he ever got home. Not to anyone, not even to himself! Finally, he gave a small shrug as he rolled his eyes and looked at Xanathen.

  “Maybe it’s the magic of the island.” Xanathen’s frown slowly twisted into a pleased smile. Not a smile of arrogance or triumph, but the smile of finally being understood and accepted.

  “Perhaps there’s a scientific explanation.” Smirking, and equally content, Barry held back his correction. At least he was trying. The two lay there in the clearing, basking in the moonlight until they fell asleep at last.

  As they continued their exploration of the island, Barry kept note of the moon. It seemed to appear in the night sky more frequently than it had before. Though now it was much smaller and always full, it steadily moved across the sky. Barry’s brow furrowed as he examined it, frustrated that he was still unable to come up with a sound explanation for it. There was no way he could
explain it without an overly complicated solution that made even less sense than before. He felt uneasy as he looked at it, as if fully aware that his mind was playing tricks on him. He shook his head and continued his conversations with Xanathen, while accepting his explanation for now. It surely must be the magic of the island.

  Chapter 3

  With the island fully explored, at least as much as the proud Xanathen would allow, Barry went back to his own campsite. The visits remained frequent, filled with athletic feats and discussions of magic and lore. As much as they explored seemingly every inch of the island, the quieter it became. They had traversed all over it and Barry hadn’t seen a single other person. No signs of any tribe or any homes whatsoever. Just an island, seemingly unspoiled by the touch of man.

  A sharp sensation suddenly jolted Barry awake. He clutched his side as he sprung upright, bumping his head. Now he was rubbing both his head and his side, as his eyes adjusted to the light. As soon as he could see, he examined his surroundings. The roaring fire glowed against the evening sky, blending in with what pinks and reds made it past the swirling gray haze of the horizon. A large pile of fruit sat to the side of the fire pit. On the other side was a pile of several limp fish, their scales glistening in the firelight. In front of Barry sat the statuesque Xanathen, squatting on his arched feet and folded legs, staring down at him with an unwavering curiosity. He pulled his finger back and folded his arms while puffing out his chest.

  “You’re alive. Splendid!” A toothy grin spread across his face. “We’ll eat and then run again! You won’t catch me this time!”

  Barry’s head spun as he took it all in. The big man wasn’t a dream. The way his legs ached reminded him that Xanathen was very much real. He blinked in confusion, taking a deep breath.

  “I, uh...Did you have to jab me like that?” Barry asked.

  “I called out to you several times but you didn’t move. I had to make sure you weren’t dead.”

  Barry moved out of the lean-to, made his way to the fruit pile, and frugally picked out a piece. He nibbled on it cautiously, savouring every small bite, while across from him Xanathen had grabbed several and tore into them with reckless abandon. Barry sat there with a barely eaten banana in his mouth as he watched in awe at how fast this man ate. The second a new fruit was in his hand it would seemingly vanish into the ether, nothing left but small crumbs and the juices dripping down his chest. He had almost objected to the large pile of food; not being ungrateful, but out of fear it would all go bad before he could eat it. However, seeing how Xanathen eagerly tore into it, his fears of it going to waste were put to rest, though he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

  “Eat!” Xanathen instructed. “Eat!”

  “It was you, wasn’t it? You were the one that brought me all the food before, right?” Barry asked.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Okay, let’s start with that. Why?”

  “You’re a guest in my home, of course,” Xanathen replied simply.

  “But why didn’t you just come out and say hello or something? Why all the hiding?”

  “You were a stranger.”

  Frustrated, Barry took a deep breath. He seemed to do a lot of that around Xanathen. “So, you wanted to welcome me, but you didn’t want to get to know me? What sort of confused bullshit logic is that?”

  “I got to know you, didn’t I? I wanted some time to see if you were a potential threat, that’s all.”

  “Am I?”

  “Don’t make me laugh! You stumble around this island like a little animal, you’re barely a threat to that banana you’re eating!” Xanathen laughed heartily, flashing his large white teeth. Barry glanced back down at his banana, barely touched and sitting in his hand. He scowled as he finished it slowly, bit by bit, giving himself time to think. He was having an easy enough time finding food for himself here. It’s one thing to have some stupid animal take pity on him and try to feed him. An animal couldn’t recognize a man, let alone a man in the Coast Guard. He’d had extensive survival training and knew what to do in this sort of situation. But even if he hadn’t been trained, he still felt he’d be able to survive. He feared nothing and could adapt to any environment. To be treated like some delicate little creature that couldn’t possibly fend for himself was something Barry wasn’t used to, and he honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it. On the one hand, it certainly had made his survival a little easier. On the other, his pride was still wounded and would need some time to heal. He kept any harsh words to himself, though. If he were to find a way to get home, or at least a way to some form—any form—of civilization, he would have to play nice. He buried his sour feelings as he gently nibbled the tip of the fruit.

  “See?” Xanathen observed aloud. “That is what I’m talking about! You have all this food, yet you can barely eat a single piece!”

  “I’m trying to conserve,” Barry explained, while rolling his eyes, thinking it was obvious. “This might be the last bit of food I find, and if I want to survive, I need t—”

  “But it won’t be. There’s more right there. Eat!”

  “I meant, what if I don’t find more on the island?”

  “My island is as bountiful as the stars in the sky,” Xanathen’s voice turned a bit colder. The inflection in his voice seemed to indicate he was now taking a defensive stance, as if he and his island had been insulted. “Eat. Please.”

  Though his voice had turned colder and more stoic, Xanathen’s eyes seemed to softly plead with him. Barry’s tension unwound a bit, looking at Xanathen with those gentle eyes, remembering the confident reassurance. He wrapped his lips around the long fruit, taking in more than before. The flavor was rich and the sensation of tasting food tapped into a basic part of him that made him crave more, and now. Hungrily, he shoved in more past his full lips and moistened it ravenously with his tongue until he was satisfied. He chewed down on it at last, coughing just a bit, then greedily grabbed another from the pile. Xanathen’s expression lightened to a satisfied smile again.

  “Good, yes?” he asked. Barry quietly nodded and spoke through another mouthful.

  “Splendid!”

  The two sat in silence for a while, the only noise that of the cries of nocturnal birds giving up to the daylight, and the sound of eating. They chomped and slurped whatever they could wrap their hands around. The pile of fruit was the first to go, and in its place was left a mound of skin and rind. The two glanced at each other with juice-covered smiles, chuckling and chortling as they ate. Barry wasn’t sure what Xanathen found funny, or even what he found funny himself. With a full feeling in his stomach for the first time in so long, he felt bubbly elation rise to the surface along with light-hearted laughter. The fact that the laughter was not his alone stifled his initial feelings of anger.

  “Oh man. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this good,” Barry chuckled, rubbing his stomach.

  “See? This is why you need to eat! The food is here for you to eat, not to horde!” Xanathen scolded playfully as he reached out for a fish. Barry’s eyes went wide as the jovial man placed the entire thing in his mouth and with a tug on the tail, revealed a clean set of bones. He blinked in disbelief as he stared at the now-spotless skeleton. He had only seen that sort of thing in cartoons.

  “W-What the hell was that?!” Barry croaked, pointing at the fish bones. “You just ate a whole damn fish! Raw!”

  “I wanted meat, so I ate it,” was Xanathen’s blasé response.

  “Raw? I mean, like, the whole thing. Raw. Guts, eyes, I-” Barry trailed off.

  “I was hungry. Why is that so hard to understand?”

  “How are you still hungry after eating all of that?!”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “God no! I’m stuffed.”

  “Oh,” was Xanathen’s dumbfounded response. “You have a smaller appetite than I guessed. So you wouldn’t be offended if I ate these myself then?”

  “K-Knock yourself out.”

  Moments later,
Barry couldn’t help his look of disgust as Xanathen kept reaching into the pile and sucked the meat right off the bones of every fish, one by one. It was a stomach-churning marvel to behold, but only for a second. Yet, as foul as it was and as much as Barry’s skin crawled at the thought of all the wriggling, raw fish innards going down the hatch, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

  Maybe he had been alone too long. Being stranded on the island had hardened him to such things. He remembered his life back home and realized that he hadn’t had a weak stomach before, why did this bother him now? He could sit through any movie with buckets of gore and gobble his popcorn without a thought. He had loved to eat adventurously and try all the weirdest foods he could find. He had fond memories of trying deep fried crocodile at the state fair back when he lived in Minnesota. Barry was no stranger to sashimi, yet the thought of an entire fish sliding down his throat made him wriggle in discomfort. All the same, he couldn’t pull himself away from the sight. As disgusting as it was, it was still somewhat entertaining. At least that was the rationale he settled on.

  “I have to ask you, Barry. What brought you here to my home?” Xanathen asked through yet another mouthful of fish.

  Barry sat quietly for a moment, staring down at the roaring fire in the pit. It glowed even more now, looking brighter than ever against the pitch-black darkness of the night. All of the thoughts he had buried came back to the surface. Dark thoughts of isolation, loneliness, abandonment returned to the forefront of his mind. His heart sank as he fixated on those thoughts. The more he stared at the fire, the more he hoped the intense heat of the flames would incinerate the dark thoughts and send them into the sky as ashes. Even as he stared into the flames, the thoughts clung to his mind and rattled in his head. He gave a deep sigh.

  “I belong to the United States Coast Guard,” he started, taking in the already perplexed look on Xanathen’s face. He started over, planning to simplify it for him. “I lived on a big island called the United States. Big, big place. Far bigger than this island.”