The Island at the End of the World

by Sam Taylor

  I begin to sweat in the airless little room. Finally I snap and say I don’t think she’s coming home tonight, and they look at me, both, with saucer eyes. It’s the first time they’ve gone to sleep without their sister and they’re frightened, I guess. Or maybe excited, I can’t tell.

  They’re silent anyhow, so I kiss them each once more on the forehead and say goodnight, warning them in the doorway to blow out their candles before they fall asleep.

  ‘Finn, you’re in charge,’ I say, and he nods sombrely.

  ‘Pa?’ he says, as I close the door. But there is no time.

  ‘Night, Finn,’ I bellow, and move quickly through the kitchen, and outside.

  I lock the door of the ark.

  To the west the sky has turned orange and red over the silhouetted Afterwoods. I need to run or it will be dark before I get there. I need to run or it will be too late. I could wait till dawn, of course, but the urgency, the gravity, the towering importance of my task eats away at me. It gnaws my guts – the ANGER, the REGRET – and I sprint up through the orchard, past the cornfield, along the side of the lake, till I come to the forest’s edge. And enter.

  Instantly I’m in the bluegreen murk of twilight, but I don’t slow down. They must never. The continuing existence of the thing seems suddenly like the most gigantic and dangerous oversight of my life. How could I leave it there, that invitation to chaos, that vertical pathway of evil, after what happened this morning? To witness its effects, and yet to let it remain. What was I thinking of?

  I go to the cabin and pick up the chainsaw, the bottle of gasoline, then carry them, as fast as I can, up the hill. I rest before the final slope, muttering ‘Calm, calm down’ between huge wheezing breaths. The wasps are flying, my eyelids are flickering, but I can’t stop it will be too late unless. Wearily I heave my twin burdens from tree to tree, until the birches and beeches are below me and only the great redwoods lie ahead.

  I walk, the chainsaw’s teeth dragging in the dirt, and eventually drop it and the gas bottle before the roots of my enemy. Like gauntlets. Yes, my enemy, all the time my enemy, and I never knew. Never understood. I look up at it, this massive rebuke, this brazen traitor, and whisper, ‘No more.’

  No more will you lead them on, no more will you steal my children, O Tree of Knowledge. One woe is past, but two more come hereafter. I must nip the devil in the bud I must cut him off at the roots I must saw his fucking soul in two to save my innocents, my flesh and blood, who sleep and dream while I, I stand here in shrinking light in spreading shadow and pour the gasoline into the hole, seal it up and pull the chain that spins the blades, grazes the air, sinks metal teeth into the devil’s body.

  They must never ever

  Dust, clouds of dust, everywhere, blinding my eyes, filling my mouth, sticking to my skin, like the Past. The saw eats and eats the devil’s body and the Past swirls all over and around me.

  I am dead on my feet when I hear its mighty groaning and see the sky darken above me. They’ve gone they had to go it was inevitable. Sorry I’m so fucking sorry what do you want me to. For He will swallow up death in victory and wipe away tears from all faces. And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying. Neither shall there be any more pain.

  XXXIII

  Soon as I breath in I no. The airs not warm on my I-lids like befor its cold an sower the menting grapes mixt up with erth an compost an woodsmells all sad from the spitting rain. I no shure as I no my names Finn an Ive got a hunerd an ten moons. Shure as I no Snowys dead an ahm fear full an lone some. Shure as I no theres no thing you can ever truely no I no summers ending. I curl up under the blankets to keep warm an let all the air out my lungs in a long low sigh. Winters coming I grieve in my head. Then I breath in a gen.

  I sit up an open my eyes an I can see the grey light coming thru the gap in the doorway. The black bird in my chest flaps its wings. Gritting my teeth to gether I crawl out from the warm an climb down the bunk ladder. Daisys wheezing slowly so I no shes still a sleep but Alices beds emty she dint come home last night. Ahm fraid shell never come home a gen.

  I put on my fleece an jeans an socks an trainers shivring in the chill air an walk thru to the kitchen. The ranges gon out I can feel the metals cold an theres no thing on the table. No eggs nor milk nor pancakes. Pa must still be a sleep. I go to his door an listen an there it is the roring crowking slobring noise he makes wen hes drunk too much wine the night befor. Some times wen I hear that I feel fret full an gret full but right now ahm jus leaved. I wer fraid hed maybe vanisht too like Will an Alice. That me an Daisy wer all a lone on the I-land.

  I think bout clecting some eggs but with the range out I cunt cook em any way an ahm too tired an low to go out an milk the goats so I serch with my hands in the cuberd till I touch some old weat cakes and dry figs an I take em out. I dremt that Snowy wer a live las night but wen I woke this morning I memberd he wernt an that sad nesses still fecting me now. I eat the cakes an figs at the table lissning to the rain fall on the roof. It sounds like Gods crying soft an lent less cus hes lernd he dont zist hes jus a lusion an the worlds only flesh an erth an water it dont mean any thing. I stare at the dark shapes in the wood table as I eat. An then Daisy comes in the kitchen.

  Wats up Finn she asks.

  No thing.

  She looks round the kitchen thru sleepy eyes an I say The ranges out.

  Wheres Pa.

  A sleep.

  Cant you light it.

  I spose so.

  Well you do that an clect the eggs an ahl go an get some milk.

  Then shes gon out into the rain so I find a lighter an some kindling an logs an I get the range go-ing. Soon as its lit I feel better an I warm my hands over it. Then I member the eggs so I walk out to the shed an let the chickens out. The chicks are all grown up theyre as beady an grobbling as the old ones now. I clect the eggs. Theres only seven but its a nuff for the three of us I spose. I stare out thru the misty rain an see the rising all blurd tween sea an sky. Theyve gon all ready. Over the edge of the world. I carry the eggs back in the hollow in my fleece.

  In the kitchen I put the eggs to boil an push my chair close to the range drying my hair an hands an face an warming my chilld bones. Daisy comes in with Goldy an a jug of milk. Theyre both soakt. Goldy shakes his fur so drops spray all over us but Daisys skins I-scold. I tell her to sit in my chair by the range wile I get her a towel from the cuberd then I help dry her hair an she sits there shivring an giggling an ahm real glad shes here that shes not gon like the others.

  Do you think theyll come back I say not looking at Daisy as I crack the eggs head an peel the shell off to veal the wite under neath.

  Who she says.

  Will an Alice.

  I dont no. Whereve they gon.

  I dont no.

  She shrugs like theres no thing mor to say an hits the spoon bottom genst her egg shell. We eat some egg the yokes like golden blood.

  Wats that noise Daisy says after a wile.

  I listen.

  I can hear the rain on the roof an the flames in the range an Goldys rough breathing an some thing else I cant tell wat it is. I frown trying to member wat the sound minds me of. Then it comes to me. It minds me of me the day Pa found me by Snowys grave stone. Me sobbing. Crying so hard it felt like my heart wer go-ing to come up out my throat. But ahm not sobbing now an neithers Daisy. An Will an Alice arent here.

  Its Pa says Daisy.

  Pas a sleep I ply.

  Maybe he woke up.

  But it cant be Pa he only cries in the evenings wen hes drunk wen hes not him self. Hes strong in the mornings. Hes normal in the mornings. He is. I tell my self all this not Daisy an I watch as she stands up.

  Come on she says.

  It cant be I want to say it cant be Pa but I can hear him louder now that choking sobbing retching like a lil boy but real deep an loud an rong sounding.

  Come on Daisy peats.

  I get up from my chair an follow her out the kitchen an thru the hall.
The two of us stand outside Pas door lissning. Then Daisy nocks.

  Pa.

  Silents. Sobbing.

  She nocks a gen an says his name but the same thing happens. So Daisy opens the door an goes in. I follow her and see Pa neeling on his bed his head in his hands his shoulders go-ing up an down in time with the sobbing whiches louder now realy loud an I feel sunly sick. Wats gon rong. I stand an stare at him too fraid to move or speak. The black birds flapping inside me. Some thing real bad musta happend. Some thing musta ript that can never be mended.

  Thru blurd eyes I watch Daisy neel next to him on the bed and put her lil hand on his back an gin to rub. I wait for Pa to yell or push her a way but he dont. I watch her crouch an whisper some thing in his ear and his shoulders go-ing up an down. An then his shoulders go-ing up an down lessn they wer befor. An then an then his shoulders not go-ing up and down any mor an I listen to his sobs turning slowly into silents an I can hear wat Daisys whispring in his ear.

  There there shes saying. There there. Dont cry Pa it wer jus a bad dream. Evry things go-ing to be all right. This is the bad part of the story but its go-ing to get better you no it is. Weare all go-ing to live haply

  Everafter.

  About the Author

  Sam Taylor was born in 1970 and is the former pop culture correspondent for the Observer. He lives in France with his young family.

  www.sam-taylor.com

  Copyright

  First published in 2009

  by Faber & Faber Limited

  Bloomsbury House, 74–77 Great Russell Street, London WC1B 3DA

  This ebook edition first published in 2015

  All rights reserved

  © Sam Taylor, 2009

  Cover illustration by Will Webb

  The right of Sam Taylor to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly

  ISBN 978–0–571–31769–1