THE ISLAND OF CHARON
a novel in the series
"PLAYING ANOTHER REALITY"
CHAPTER 1. THE FISHERMAN
1.3. THE BOY WHO ASKED FOR A LANTERN
By 10:00 p.m. I became definitely alive. Firstly, the 12-hour time difference between the Island and my country affected. Secondly, during the day it was incredibly hot there and absolutely unbearable to stay out on the Sun.
It seemed that life on the Island had not changed at all over the years, as well as the straw hotel, consisting of small guest houses, in one of which I had spent the night waiting for the ferry to Cebu during my previous visit. But that time, following Alex, I was ready to call the guest house a “hut”.
Thatched roof, bare walls, a small window, a table with a candlestick, a tiny bed and a narrow wardrobe… I had noticed even then there were no light bulbs in the lamps, and so far no one guessed to insert them!
As before, there was no tap for hot water in the shower, although the cold water got warmed naturally under the scorching Sun in some storage tanks outside the house.
And what to say about air conditioners! — I found only an ancient fan in the room, but the electricity in the network had disappeared somewhere.
And more! I double-checked, including the reception, there was still no Internet there.
However, perhaps the charm of the lost in the Ocean Island, the riddle of which I had to solve, was precisely in such wildness and complete isolation from civilization…
Planning my vacation, I decided to explore Camotes thoroughly, because the first time we had had to escape from the Island the very next morning for having no cash. By the way, no cards were still acceptable there.
I stepped out of the hut into the deep darkness and wandered towards the light of a torch burning at the reception like an eternal flame.
In fact, several torches were always available there so that any tourist could take one out if felt like walking around the Island at night.
I got the opportunity to light my path and stepped out the gates to a dirty road, on both sides of which long-legged palm trees towered, piercing the black-book Sky.
Turning to the left, I walked towards the pier, getting used to the darkness. Suddenly a boy jumped out of unknown to me species of the tropical thickets. He seemed to be about seven years old and looked like a homeless grimy beggar, easily found along the streets of big cities. The Boy grabbed my hand and began to beg, shouting out the same word in almost all languages of the world. And that word was…
“Lantern!”
Understanding nothing, I took a couple of coins out of my pocket and handed them to the Boy.
However, to my greatest surprise, having seen the coins, the beggar squeamishly threw them into the thickets, twisted his finger at his temple giggling, and then he shouted out again,
“LANTERN!!!”