The Port O'Potty And Our Escape

Chuck and I, sadly, were forced to say goodbye some four years after we arrived on the island. We'd gotten pretty used to the lifestyle, though Chuck dearly missed home, missed Kelly, and was pretty depressed and angry.

Then, one morning, we both heard a strange noise coming from the beach. Turned out it was a part of a port-o-potty that had washed up on shore. I didn't know where it came from, but we stood there watching it, Chuck and I.

We stood it up, and then watched as a gust of wind blew it over. We both thought the same thing. I said to Chuck, "Hey, that might make a good sail for getting us out of here, but it looks way too flimsy." He looked back at me with this crazed look. "This could work!" he said. We didn't agree, but he went to work on it anyway.

For two months, we both worked hard, and it really tested our patience. At one point, Chuck got so mad that he tossed me out of the cave (this is usjust before that happened. As you can tell, we both look pretty upset at each other).

I'd told him that I didn't think that this would work, that he'd just end up dying on the ocean even if he did manage to get away. That's when he really got mad, but he said sorry afterwards and we just forgot the whole thing (well, he did, anyway).

Finally, the big day came. Neither of us slept too well the other night. We launched the boat and pretty soon, we'd released the "sail" and we were out on the ocean, leaving behind the island we'd come to know and love for the last four years.