Pretend You're Five Again...and Get the Conclusion Tomorrow

The Other Island
By Amy Wilensky

One morning, as the sand glinted in the sunlight and the waves sent white froth up on the sandy shore of a beautiful island, two friends were sitting on a pile of smooth grey rocks, gazing out at the horizon. The friends were Felix, a small but very determined bird, and his best friend Boo, the kindest, most good-natured giraffe you could ever hope to meet. The object of their gaze was another island: a speck in the distance that seemed about a million miles away.

The island where Felix and Boo lived was a lush, green place with beaches all around of soft pink sand, and trees heavy with ripe pomegranates all the year through. It was populated mostly by birds, as many kinds as there are shells in the sea, but also by friendly speckled crabs, lean gentle wolves with mournful howls, and an extended family of giraffes, all of whom were somehow related to Boo. Boo thought their island was just about perfect. Felix had always thought so too--until he’d decided that this other island, this green speck out in the middle of nowhere, was possible even a better one.

After a while, Boo grew tired of gazing out to sea, at the other island. She stood up and stretched her long neck, moving in front of Felix so he couldn’t see the other island anymore. Felix immediately hopped onto another rock with an unspoiled view. Boo rolled her eyes. “What should we do today, Felix?” she asked, to distract him. Felix always had the best ideas.

Felix didn’t answer. “I wonder if they have peacocks there?” he mused instead, in a dreamy voice Boo had never heard before. Peacocks were perhaps the only kind of bird they didn’t have on their own island. Felix had heard some of the older birds talking about them once, their iridescent turquoise feathers, the way their enormous tails caught the light and shone like the sea itself.

“I doubt it,” said Boo, her head drooping a little. Felix hopped from rock to rock, shaking sand from his wings.

“And coconuts!” he added, as if Boo had not spoken. “I hear coconut milk is indescribably delicious.” Boo imagined little Felix, fierce as he was, trying to peck a hole in a rock-hard coconut.

“Hey!” Felix said then, as Boo was picturing his tender little beak with a bandage wrapped around it from all the pecking. “I do have a plan! A terrific one!”

“What is it?” said Boo. When Felix had an especially good idea his tail feathers shook a little. They were shaking now.

“We’ll go to that island, the other island. We’ll find out for ourselves if they have peacocks and coconuts. I’m tired of crabs and wolves and pomegranates. I want to have a real adventure for a change.” Felix looked very pleased with himself. Boo tried to hide her disappointment. Felix’s tail feathers were shaking again.

“We need to build a boat!” This sounded more promising. Boo loved to build things. And if the boat-building project took long enough, maybe Felix would forget all about the other island. They could launch their boat in the salt-water pond in the middle of their own island, by the base of the mountain where the wolves prowled and napped in the shade. They could row out to the middle of the pond and nap on the boat in the sunshine, while crabs chattered at one another on the lily pads around them.

“Okay,” said Boo. “How do we start?”

Together, with Felix leading the way, they wove through the woods to a clearing that had been hit hard by a recent thunderstorm. As Felix directed her to the straightest, strongest branches, Boo picked them up in her mouth, making a pile in the middle of the grass. Felix flew to the swamp and plucked reeds with his beak. When he’d gathered enough, he flew back to Boo, who bound the branches together with the reeds.

When they had a sturdy raft large enough to hold them both comfortably, as well as two flat branches for oars, Felix tied a rope to one end and gave the other end of the rope to Boo, who chomped down on it with her large, flat teeth. She pulled the raft through the woods and down to the beach, to the very edge of the water. Felix landed on one corner, and Boo arranged herself in the middle, a little nervous suddenly about the actual rowing. Felix, of course, Mr. Big Ideas, was too small to row.

They pushed off, let the current carry out the boat until the water grew darker, deeper, and it was time for Boo to put the oars in the water. Felix navigated, which made him feel important, puffed up, like a real ship captain. As the other island got closer and closer, Felix’s tail feathers shook so hard Boo was worried they would all fall off. “Maybe we’ll want to live there,” Felix said, as Boo panted with the effort of pulling the oars through the water. “Maybe we won’t even want to go home!” Boo remained silent.

After what seemed like hours to Boo, a flash of lightning to Felix, the bottom of the boat bumped up on sand. Boo pulled the boat up on shore. Felix flew onto her shoulder. For a moment, they just stood there, looking around. Boo had to admit that the other island was glorious. The sand was white instead of pink but as soft as baby powder, and the trees bore small, fuzzy, oval-shaped brown fruits instead of large glossy pomegranates. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, and Boo jumped, throwing Felix into the air.

“And who are you?” said the slow, gravely voice, from down on the sand. It was a turtle, not much bigger than Felix, with a mottled dark green shell and an inquisitive face. “Or should I say, what are you?”

“Um, I’m a bird,” said Felix, looking sideways at Boo to see what she made of this. “Like a peacock?” he said.

“I don’t know what that is,” the turtle said, even more slowly this time, turning his tiny head to look at Boo. “And what’s she?”

“I’m a giraffe,” Boo said, in a high, tinkly, nervous voice. The turtle looked back at Felix.

“Hmph,” he grumbled. “I don’t know what use we have for birds and giraffes around here, but we don’t get many visitors. Actually, I’m almost four hundred years old, and you’re the first in my lifetime. You might as well come meet the rest of the island.”

Felix looked at Boo, who raised her eyebrows (yes, some giraffes do have eyebrows). “And what about you?” Felix asked. He didn’t like being bossed around. “What are you? You’re certainly not a wolf or a crab.”

“Wolf or a crab? Of course not,” scoffed the turtle. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am a proud member of the ancient race of turtles. We are the only creatures who live here. Except for the camels, of course. But they don’t really count."