Chapter 3: Still Haven’t Found What I was Looking For
I walked the shoreline and combed the beach for anything useful. I found the exact machete that I wanted for my tenth birthday. Better late than never.
I cleared out the bamboo, hacked a path into the jungle. Now I can explore the island and try to find help—or a date…hopefully both in one.
Am I the first one to set foot in this jungle? It doesn’t seem that way. I found a wrecked plane in the jungle. If the pilot survived the crash, they could still be on the island. I will try to be optimistic…for both of our sakes.
I searched the cockpit of the wreckage for supplies, or better yet, a radio. There was a map of the island inside. It’s faint and difficult to read, but at least it’s a starting point.
The trek into the jungle was more fruitful than I anticipated. I kept exploring to see what else I could find. I found a family of orangutans and some kind of idol. It looks native, but I guess it could’ve come from the wreckage or the pilot. I want to know more about the idol. And I want an orangutan.
There was some kind of idol at the base of the orangutans’ tree. I went to get a closer look at it. An orangutan beat me up—badly. I was sucker-punched, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.
I gathered some bananas to bribe the fighting orangutans. If this doesn’t work, I guess I’ll have to learn Judo…or find three other morally liberal orangutans to distract these three.
They always said that one can get more flies with honey than vinegar. Well, they sure know their fighting primates. The orangutans loved the banana bribes. I had them eating out of the palm of my hand—literally.
I thought the idol may hold some clues about the island. I took it from the orangutans. I hope they don’t call the cops. What am I thinking? Everyone knows that orangutans hate cops. What am I thinking? Everyone knows that orangutans hate cops.
After hitting my adventure quota for the day, I returned to camp with the idol. Had I known I would be returning with company, I would have spruced the place up a little.
Stories that are collected from the depths of the unknown or spawned from the deep recesses of my mind...
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