Outside the Island

The sun was sinking below the horizon. The ship's sails fluttered in the port as the sailors scurried upon the deck, readying her for sea. The sea beckoned, as did a small strip of land. It could barely be seen from a stony outcropping on a gentle slope rising above the docks. A young girl rested in the shelter of the outcropping, staring out to sea. The sea beckoned, but the Islanders never left.

The Islanders never left. They imported and exported. They traded goods and listened raptly to the tales of the sailors. They dreamed of distant lands and they raised sheep, but they never boarded ships. Ships were dangerous, for they sailed to places where evil abounded. Ships were dangerous and the Island was safe.

Here, on the Island, life was protected. There was never any violence or scandal. There was never any excitement. All one had to worry about was the farms and the sheep, the weather and wild animals. That's plenty enough for any folk to worry about. The often-heard phrase rang through the girl's head.

"Shay! Shay! The name echoed down the hill, stirring the girl from her musings. She dreamed, like many before her, of outside the Island. Exotic lands and fascinating creatures paraded through her imagination, forming exciting adventures.

"You coming, kid? We're loading and I'm not waiting forever. Shay looked down into the face of a man standing just below her on the grassy slope. He was a rough, unshaven man, barefooted and dressed as a sailor. Several yellow stripes down his pant leg set him apart as Captain.

"Shay! Dinner! She glanced up the hill toward the source of the voice. Dinner would be as it always was. It would be rice and cooked cabbage and maybe some fish. She smelled deeply and discovered only the salty scent of the sea. The sea.

The sea beckoned. A young girl stood, gazing longingly at a strip of land she could barely see. She moved forward slowly, picking her way down the slope. The Captain snorted and strode briskly ahead of her. Shadows obscured everything.

"Shay! The last cry was softer, irritated and resigned. The shout faded as it echoed down the hill. She glanced once more at the house on the hilltop, glowing brightly. She could almost hear the cheerful voices around the dinner table. Several sea gulls squawked loudly as they dove for their dinner. The wooden planking of the dock was rough on her bare feet. The waves slapped against the sides of the ship.

The ship's sails fluttered as the anchors were hauled up. Shay looked excitedly toward the distant land, and regretfully toward the Island. Islanders never left. The house glowed brightly on the hilltop. She could just barely make out the strip of land as a dark spot in the distance. The sunk sank slowly below the horizon.