The Other Island, drastically cut and closer to better

The Other Island

By Amy Wilensky



One morning, as the sand glinted in the sunlight and the waves sent white froth up on the 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. 



All around Felix and Boo, their own island bustled with life. As many kinds of birds as there are shells in the sea trilled and warbled in their cozy nests. Friendly speckled crabs scurried about on the soft white sand, and lean gentle wolves with mournful howls rested beneath the pomegranate trees. Giraffes lay in hammocks, humming along to the birdsong.

Boo thought their island was just about perfect, which was she was so surprised when Felix started complaining. “It’s so boring here,” he said.

“Boring?” said Boo, who had just been thinking how happy she was.

“Yes,” said Felix, in a super grumpy voice. “There’s nothing to do on this boring old island.”

“We could organize a crab race,” Boo suggested. Felix loved crab races.

“Again?” Felix said. “We did that three times last week.”

“We could teach the wolves to…tap-dance?” Felix was still staring out to sea. All of a sudden he flew straight up into the sky. “I’ve got it,” he shouted. “The best Big Idea ever!”

Which is how Boo found herself dragging logs down to the beach from the woods in the middle of the island, as Felix plucked reeds with his beak. A few hours later, they had constructed a simple but very sturdy raft, complete with a sail stitched together from pomegranate leaves.

“I wonder if they have peacocks over there?” Felix mused, as they pulled the raft into the water and hopped on.

“I doubt it,” said Boo quietly, her head drooping just a little.


“And coconuts!” Felix added, ignoring Boo. “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.

“Felix?” said Boo.

“What, Boo?” said Felix.

“Can we just sail quietly for a while?” Felix was so excited he didn’t notice that Boo’s eyes were filled with tears.

“Sure, whatever,” said Felix, hopping from log to log with excitement.

The other island got closer and closer. Soon, the raft bumped up on the sand. “Land ho!” shouted Felix. They climbed off and stood on the beach, which was pink, not white, looking around. Suddenly, they both jumped, at the sound of a voice near their feet.

“And who are you?” It was a turtle, not much bigger than Felix, with a mottled dark shell and inquisitive face. “Or should I say, what are you?”



“Um, I’m a bird,” said Felix. “Like a peacock?” he said. 



“I don’t know what that is,” the turtle said, turning his tiny head to look at Boo. “And you?”



“I’m a giraffe,” said Boo said. The turtle looked perplexed.

“My name is Horace,” he said. “And I, of course, am a turtle. 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. Would you like to see the rest of the island?” Felix sighed happily.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Felix and Boo followed Horace into a cool, piney forest, through a meadow, where wildflowers bloomed in bursts of orange and red like miniature planets and suns, and up a long, high hill, where he finally stopped.



“Well? “ said Horace. Felix and Boo looked down and saw a brilliant patchwork quilt with squares of pink flowering trees in full bloom, the greenest pastures, and buttery yellow sandy stretches rippled with blue bubbling brooks. Boo had to admit it. The other island was spectacular. Felix’s beak was open in awe.

Suddenly, they realized they were surrounded. Turtles large and small had gathered in clusters around them, along with tan, horse-sized creatures with humps on their backs and faces like llamas. “Camels,” whispered Felix to Boo. “I saw them in a book once.”

“This is Felix and Boo,” announced Horace. “They’ve come from, well, somewhere else, and they want to see our island.” Felix waved his wing at the crowd. Boo rolled her eyes. Felix always liked an audience.

It was arranged for a couple of camels to take them touring and show them the sights. But first: a feast. Platters of woven reeds were brought out, holding piles of brown fuzzy fruits cut open to reveal green insides flecked with tiny black seeds.

 Felix and Boo ate the kiwi, which tasted a little like lime, a little like banana, but was more delicious than either. They sipped what turned out to be coconut milk from actual coconuts, and even Boo had to admit it was like drinking an afternoon breeze. A camel stood behind each of them as they feasted, and on the back of each camel sat a turtle, with an enormous fan made of kiwi tree leaves.

All that afternoon, they explored the other island. The camels took Felix and Boo to a spring where water bubbled up in all the colors of a sunrise, a cave with walls like crystals, and a spot in a forest where stars shone in the sky not just all night but all day long.
When they were thirsty, turtles appeared with coconut milk. When they were hungry, turtles appeared with slices of kiwi on ice.

When dusk fell, and the sun hovered low, Felix and Boo found themselves back with Horace on the beach with their raft.

“Felix and Boo,” began Horace. “The Turtle Council made an important decision while you were exploring. We are honored by your visit. We would like you to stay.”

“You mean to live?” asked Boo.

“Exactly,” said Horace. “We have already started building your palace.” Boo looked at Felix. Felix looked out at the ocean, where their boring old beautiful island could be seen as a speck in the distance. Suddenly he found himself, for the first time all day, craving a pomegranate.



"That's so lovely of you," Felix said, "but no thank you. If we leave now, we'll make it home before bedtime." Boo breathed an enormous sigh of relief.

A little while later, after Horace had pushed them off into the sea, Boo sat on the raft watching Felix sleep. He had one orange wing around a coconut he'd sweet-talked off Horace. Above the friends, the moon was a crescent in the navy expanse. Across the water, the sounds of the evening concert at home could be heard, ever so faintly. Boo was glad they had gone to the other island, after all.

Sometimes you need to leave to come back home.