Chapter 2: The Island

I found myself standing on the beach, wearing, I imagine, the stupidest face in human history, and absolutely nothing else, not even my wedding band or my four-metal bracelet, which was meant to control rheumatism. Since there were no mirrors about, I could only guess that my face reflected my feelings of utter consternation. I remember thinking so much for Alfred and his big mouth the one moment, next I'm here.

The sand felt soft and warm underfoot, the sky was clear, the sun hot but not uncomfortably so. The small wavelets from the bay were gently running up the shore, the air fragrant with ample proof that the island was not barren. Birds flitted about, a pair of raptors circled languidly high overhead, I could hear insects humming, the shrubs and grasses and trees looked lush and inviting. Finally, I looked towards the hills. My hills. It was easy to spot the one with the cave, not only because it was the highest with its crowning rock formation, but also it was set slightly apart from the others, the path leading to the summit clearly visible. I was simply stunned by the beauty and serenity of it all.

"Alfred?"

I might just have sounded a little bit nervous, because Alfred answered immediately.

"You are worried? Why, don't you appreciate this beautiful island of yours?"

Strangely, his voice had shed most of its screechiness, sounding rather human after all.

"Alfred, I am not worried at all. I feel like I lost my mind, though. According to you, there was little enough to start with. And why am I starkers? You, great guru, should know that I don't embrace nudism."

"Oh, calm down. The portation went without a hitch. In fact, much better than I dared to hope. You are not feeling any side effects, are you? Nausea, vertigo, anything of the kind? And yet, amidst all this perfect scenery you do nothing but complain. I call this ungrateful in the extreme. As for your clothes: unfortunately, hyper-transfer, as I have invented it, does not yet allow for any external adornments to be moved simultaneously. Peripheral inanimate objects require a separate effort. Be grateful that you were able to keep the dentures in your mouth as well as the implant in your aorta! Your glasses came with you only because I made you hold them tightly in your hands. You will find your clothes when you return home, together with your wedding band and the silly bracelet you wear. Of course I am aware of your aversion to public nudity, I put down some clothing for you in that little copse further along. As you remember, that is also where the path starts towards your cave. Come on, you should be very keen to go exploring."

Alfred was positively bubbling with excitement. So I walked along the shore towards those twisted and gnarled trees, which tickled my curiosity even when we were still at loggerheads over designing everything. And right there laid a neat pile of clothing. Underpants, an assortment of ridiculous knee-length shorts, a couple of light T-shirts, a few long-sleeved shirts, sandals, a baseball cap of sorts. Everything outrageously coloured and patterned and not to my taste at all, but still serviceable, sartorial excellence not even a minor ambition there and then. I dressed quickly, stuffed the surplus under my arm and made for the path. At least he got my sizes right, which is more than I ever manage!

"Alfred, you got to tell my right now. Why did you design those trees the way they are, what the hell for?"

"Ho, ho, ho."

Yes, I could just picture Groucho Alfred flopping about on the floor with his self-induced hilarity, much like an over-sexed youngster with a good head of steam on his bollocks might wank off repeatedly in front of a set of mirrors.

"I thought you would never ask. This is your gym, my friend. After decades of living a sedentary life it's about time you improved your body. But this will come later. Look, those trees are very springy and resilient and strong enough to support your weight easily. You can do bench presses against the lower branches, chin yourself on the higher ones, you can exercise any muscle in your body by going through a set of exercises I have developed. Call it advanced bio-isometrics. I am certain you will love to hate it, but it will do you a power of good. Now, let's go to the top, shall we? And don't roll up your sleeves yet, keep your cap on. The sun is quite strong. After you have been here a few days you will be shod of your ridiculous farmer's tan and I bet you will be shedding most of your clothing soon afterwards."

It immediately became obvious that we, genial Alfred mostly, had designed quite sensibly. The path was never steep, winding along the front of the hill, switching back here and there through flowering shrubs and below flat-topped trees, vistas changing along the way, making clever use of curves and hollows and after only a few minutes I reached the top, not even breathing very hard. I am not ashamed to say that I stood there for a long time, crying, tears streaming down my face as I took in all the beauty around me. I still had no idea whatsoever how Alfred managed to do all this. Everything had to be real, because it all felt real. The rock felt grainy under my feet, the air mild; from up here I could look out towards the other hills not far away, the lake beckoned as well as the reef-protected bay, the ocean stretching towards the horizons unspoiled by anything man made.

Eventually I spoke.

"Alfred?"

"What now?"

"Thanks. Thank you for all of this. It truly is magnificent and way beyond everything I could ever have hoped to see..."

"You are quite welcome, although you haven't seen anything yet."

He did sound a bit gruff to me, but I had a sneaking suspicion that he, too, was overcome by emotions.

"Let me explain a bit about everything here. Feel free to ask whatever comes to your mind. But first, go into the cave and get yourself a drink. I think you have earned it."

With Alfred about, I was quite used by now to do as I was told. I went into the cave and had another shock waiting for me. The place was entirely habitable with simple, well-made furniture: large bed, table, chairs, cupboards, an electrified Coleman-style lamp, one wall was built up with bookshelves filled with volumes in leather bindings, gold-blocked to boot, and standing next to a small reading table was my dream wing chair, grandfather style, upholstered in gleaming dark-red leather with a matching footstool, whereas towards the back was what appeared to be a kitchenette of sorts. The floor was level and smooth throughout, with a couple of nice Persian rugs scattered about. There was a large earthenware jug with like tumblers, very plain in design but elegantly shaped. I lifted the jug, took a sniff and couldn't help but smile happily. Planter's punch, very dry, very cold. I filled one of the tumblers to the brim, grabbed a chair and sat down under the shade trees outside.

"Shoot, Alfred. I will be as ready as I am ever going to be to hear it all. I won't ask questions, you tell me in the order of your choice. By the way, thanks once more. You have outdone yourself with the cave. Any chance you could teleport that chair to my study at home? And cheers. This drink is delicious."

Alfred tried very hard to be dismissive about my praise but failed abjectly. I could tell by the tremor in his voice. He was very proud of himself and the fact that I liked his work. Then he started to explain everything from the top down, in a more matter-of-fact voice.

After a rather long pause, during which I sat stunned in my chair, Alfred continued.

"But let's talk about more pleasant things. You know by now that I provided everything I could think of what you might need or want. When you feel hungry, just speak, or think, of any food you would like and it will be provided within about an hour of your time. Much like you would place an order in any restaurant. Drinks likewise, but you should go easy on the hard tack, at least until your healing is completed. Beer is okay, wine too if you don't overdo it. Just say it — and it will be there after a while. In the back of the cave you will find a large vertically rectangular recess with shelving. This is your fridge. The cooling is by way of a steady airflow right from the bottom of the island. The ablution facilities are exactly as we designed them together, although I added a roof for shade. By the way, there will be no rain unless you specifically want it or the island really needs it. In fact, you can ask for any climate you prefer at any given time and eventually you will be able to adjust it yourself.

"Oh, one more thing. This is not paradise. By that I mean that you might wish for things that I will have to decline, nor will I be able to attend to you all the time. We will have to work out some kind of schedule. You should store basic groceries and drinks for the times I will be 'off the air'. To do that, just speak or think of them. Now, I do believe you might have some questions?"

Did I ever? The scope of this undertaking was so enormous it defied comprehension. Struggling to sort through my jumbled mind, I blurted out.

"What about my wife? She must be frantic by now."

"You did not listen to me, did you? I told you, you will not be gone from the 'other' reality for more than five minutes — regardless of how long you stay here. This is the major advantage of my world. Time is, for all practical purposes, meaningless. After you have found your rhythm here, you will feel tired after a day's activities and go to bed, sleep for as long as you need to and get up refreshed just as you would on any 'normal' day. The length of day hasn't changed since we are still on our old earth in the same solar system, just in a different phase. You will soon feel at home here. In the meantime, explore your island to your heart's content. You might even try some fishing in the lake or in the bay. All fish are edible and tasty when fried or cooked. I know you don't like to cook, but necessary utensils and victuals have been provided and there are plenty of fish, crayfish, mussels and the like to be collected or caught. Collect them. Catch them. Eat them. All the berries you will find are edible too when ripe. Have fun!"

"What about... ?"

"No, let's not waste time with trivialities. Most everything you see will be self-explanatory. Just stay away from the right-hand pool. I have to sign off now. Now is the time to think of food and drink to stock up with. You have two hours to do that. After that, you will have to wait till I come back in the morning! Again, have fun."

Alfred over and out. Oh well, he was right. There was plenty to do. First of all, I went for a dip in the cleansing pool. And what a joy that was. The water was soft, lightly scented, yet without any discernible fragrances, and pleasantly cool. I felt the slightest of tingles, suggesting perhaps that the cleansing was necessary. After I ducked under, my scalp started tingling as well and within a short time I felt really refreshed. As I got out of the pool, I noticed that the water ran off my body without leaving any drops behind. I was dry in an instant, saving me the search for towels. Alfred the provider immediately went up a few notches in my esteem!

I checked on the ablution facilities next. Everything looked functional, the toilet seat made of natural rock and very smooth to the touch. As it should be, I designed it like that after all. Water flushed through almost silently. There even was a small container with bundles of woolly-looking fibres. No guessing what these were for. The roof was constructed from strong poles and rafters, decked with large palm-like fronds, interwoven, blending very nicely with the surroundings. Really, if my crafty mate ever fell on hard times with his programming he should go for his plumber's ticket.

The sun told me there were a few hours of daylight left. I went in for a closer look at the cave. Here awaited another masterpiece. All the furniture was made of solid hardwood, polished to a gleam. The chairs were comfortable, the bed thrown with soft-cured, silk-lined karosses from different animals, a few suede-leather pillows to boot. Very masculine, if not entirely practical. The books covered all my favourite topics, plus some which Alfred clearly intended for me to familiarise myself with. Highly esoteric stuff on computer programming, some science fiction, futurology and the like. For the love of me, I could not figure out how he could have managed to get all these books bound alike. There simply are no leather-bound editions of crime writers to be bought over the counter and the lot of the philosophers are universally known to be cheapskates of the first order. And imagine my surprise when I found a striking bookplate in my name in each one of the books: my, our, island as viewed from the air, executed in the subtle colours of early morning, the inscription reading 'Time, if used wisely, is the friend of man, never his enemy'. So he took note of my spleen of collecting bookplates as well. Once more, I was moved to tears.

"Sorry, Alfred, for all you had to put up with."

Not getting an answer, I continued to snoop around. He had thought of everything. Matches, fluid for the lamp and, in a drawer, a few packs of my favourite smokes. There was a little note, too. 'You may enjoy your outlandish cigs for the time being. After your processing, the craving, and the cigarettes, will have disappeared.'

His choice of the term 'processing' sounded Orwellian at his most sinister. But instead of worrying, I just refilled my tumbler and remembered about stocking up. Although I like to eat well, it is not at all difficult to feed me. A steak, though, thick and juicy, would be just the right thing to have. Potatoes and a small salad. Dark hours call for dark wine: a Shiraz would do me well. Coffee for the morning, perhaps a few cereals, fruit juices, some bacon, eggs, spices, milk — I could handle all that. I was about to admire my frugality when I decided to toss for a bottle of Remy Martin and a six-pack or two. Alfred did mention to go easy on the jungle juice, but I felt sure that whatever I might damage with a few snifters of good cognac, he would be able to fix when it came to overhauling me. If he could do it at all, that is. I had no intention of waiting around to see whether the groceries would arrive as promised. If this didn't work, it wouldn't be the first time in my life that I went hungry for a while.

The kitchenette didn't interest me all that much. I would find out in the morning whether I could cook up a storm. Discovering a corkscrew cum bottle-opener was sufficient to put my mind at ease. I went outside to check over the rock formation housing my cave. It was easy to get to the top on well-hewn steps and it was just as easy to see that Alfred had been busy up here as well. A large solar panel, facing north and angled just so, supplied electricity. I had no idea about its output, but felt sure that it would cope with whatever secrets the kitchen held. A small platform with a conveniently shaped smooth rock was perfect for lounging up here and admiring the 360 ° view.

The island wasn't large by anyone's standards, a few square kilometres at a guess, but it had everything I could wish for. There was a wide sandy beach rimming the bay, with some steep cliffs on the opposite side of the island. There was no part, which did not feature something pleasing to the eye. A number of large trees were dotted about, making the plains look like a miniature African steppe; rocky outcrops, smallish animals grazing in the distance; the lake and the hillocks coming straight out of a master landscape-designer's picture-book. I really couldn't wish for more.

After climbing down from my high perch I walked right around the hilltop till I came upon the small stream. It sprang from a narrow mossy cleft in the rock face and gurgled lustily away, filling tiny fern-fronded pools on its course to, finally, disappear over a sharp ledge. I made my way down to stand perplexed next to a lovely waterfall, the small body of water separating into a fine mist, like a veil really, sparkling brilliantly in the evening sun. MasterBuilder® was aptly named indeed.

By now the sun was setting in a glorious display of colours. Small clouds took on a deep-red tint as the great ball dropped below the horizon. No, there was no Green Flash, but I felt happy, contented and in harmony with my unfamiliar surroundings. This intense, almost oppressive feeling of solitude could never be equalled anywhere in real time.

I sat there for quite a while, smoking peacefully, taking a sip of punch now and then, till, suddenly, lovely aromas emanated from the cave. Alfred had waited on me. I lit the lamp and set the table to dine in style. The food had arrived in a tight Styrofoam parcel. The steak was thick, juicy, searingly hot and tasted wonderful, the potatoes roasted just so, the salad crisp and spiced delectably. While I washed down the last morsels with the fruity South African Shiraz, I was thinking of my wife. What if Alfred's five minutes were stretched into hours, days, even forever? What would she find, how would she react if she went downstairs now? Could or would Alfred transport her as well? A lot of questions with no answers in sight.

I cleared the table, stacking the dishes in the sink, did some snooping in the kitchen and found a thermos of coffee as well as the bottle of cognac. Catering was excellent. I could very easily get used to being spoiled by Alfred. For the time being, I settled down in my wing chair, books, cognac, smokes within comfortable reach. Now isn't it funny that the first book I should pick up was MacDonald's 'The Girl, the Gold-watch and Everything', his delightfully mocking, tongue-in-cheek foray into science fiction? I cannot think of a more agreeable way to spend a solitary evening than reading a pleasantly witty, well-written book, which touches immediately on one's own situation, struggling along with the author to not stretch the bounds of logic, overmuch. Nevertheless, the book did tell me that my present circumstances were not only improbable but, quite simply, impossible. And yet...

I tried not to worry about the outcome of this adventure. All day, my subconscious had been busy mulling over everything I heard and saw. The health issues I could handle. Even if the experiment failed I would be no worse off and the shock of learning about my severely limited live expectancy had only been fleeting. Easy come, easy go. For me that is, but I realised that things would definitely be less than fair when seen from my wife's point of view. So, before I got into anything with possibly fatal results I should at least ask Alfred for some time out to put my house in order. As for the other aspects of our peculiar undertaking, I would have to see whether I could get a grasp on things as they unfolded.

When I went outside, the night air was still soft, the skies so clear, without even a hint of smudge, stars brilliant, the Southern Cross pointing the way. Insects fluttering about made me think about sleeping arrangements. There was no door set into the cave entrance but I did find netting clasped overhead which, when lowered and fastened to the floor and sides with some Velcro strips, would make the cave nice and snug. Sighing contentedly, I took care of ablutions, found my preferred toothpaste (remember the damned 'tax forms'?), took a final plunge in the pool and went to bed.

The furs were soft, the pillows even more so, the air calm. Sleep came easily, as if my brain had just switched itself off, and I slept right through till the early morning. On waking up, I was much surprised to see the sun still very low over the eastern horizon. What surprised me even more was the fact that I felt well-rested and famished to boot. Setting up breakfast was easy. A bowl of cereals in milk, some fruit juice spiced just a tad with the remainder of the punch, some left-over coffee. Not a bad way at all to start a new day.

I wanted to go exploring before Alfred would start his meddling, finished quickly and went first to my cleaning pool for a quick duck. Walking up and down hill had, over the years, become a bit of a pain. So I decided to try the second pool. Unfortunately, I forgot Alfred's caution about getting in slowly. The pain shooting up from my toes, my ankles, my knees was immediate and it was bad. Not unbearably so, but severe enough that I felt it right up to the root of every hair on my head. I broke out in a cold sweat and stopped there, hanging on to the edge of the pond, gasping for breath and unable to stop tears flooding my eyes. If this were Alfred's idea of mild pain I would do well to think twice before subjecting myself to the rigours of his third stage of purgatory. After a couple of minutes the pain disappeared completely, to be replaced by a strong sense of well-being. From my knees down, that is. Cautioned somewhat, I submerged myself a little deeper. Some more pain and tingling, some internal goings on I couldn't identify at first, pushing, pulling, twisting ever so slightly but very hurtfully, till I realised that the water must be exerting its healing powers on an old fracture of the femur which had rendered my right leg a few millimetres short. And suddenly my heart was filled with the exhilaration of knowing that Alfred hadn't promised too much. It worked, I was healing myself!

Knowing that my hips were no winners either and would require some heavy fixing, I let myself sink below the surface in infinitesimally small steps. Way to go! Through the crystal-clear water I could see some skin problems disappearing as by magic, yet my plentiful scars were not removed. It took me some strenuous brainwork to puzzle this one out: for practical purposes alone I should not be altered beyond recognition, so scars and individual features would have to remain unaltered while my tattoo could disappear. Thank God, I would never be pretty. I felt so light-headed that I nearly plunged into the pool, just stopping in time before the pain would catch up with me again. And more pain there was, it becoming obvious that Alfred had not exaggerated when he prattled about my wretched health. Knowing what to expect, it was easy to time my movements into the water so that one ache was overcome before the next cropped up.

And so it went. Almost seventy years of deficiencies and neglect were cleared up in the course of about half that many minutes, superficially at least. Now just my skull remained to be 'done over'.

The human head is not all that large an object, but a lot can go wrong thereon and therein. First of all, I wanted to remove my dentures since my mouth had become very tight. Some inner voice — no, not Alfred — told me however, that they would never fit again if I removed them now. And certainly, lost teeth could not be replaced, that much even I knew. Finally I was left with only a slight discomfort about my jaws and continued on my watery journey. The annoying tinnitus, burden of many a year now, ceased with what I can only describe as a soundless bang after I immersed first one then the other ear in the water. So sudden was the absence of any interfering noises that I came out like a shot, bewildered by the momentary total silence till I heard the bubbling of the spring and some birdcalls from far away. So there I was. As good as new, at least by appearance, much like a trash car dollied up for a quick sale by a sharp operator.

I submerged myself completely — and thrashed about like a speared pike. Recovery was very slow this time round, but it didn't take me long to realise my mistake. Apart from the debilitating tinnitus I had long ago lost part of my hearing, my eyesight never was up to scratch, tear ducts had shrivelled, sinuses become worn; some unspecified malfunction of the thyroid gland, migraines from an old hairline skull fracture and, surely, some of those clotted arteries and veins must be close enough to the body surface to be affected as well. And then those ugly protein intrusions under the facial skin, nasty-looking but harmless, xanthelasms the medics call them I believe. Add to that a rather sparse covering of hair on top, together with wear and tear on my spinal column and the sum of all this should provide for a lot of agony when 'processed' suddenly and all at once.

After very nearly floundering, I just lay in the pool, trying to catch my breath, waiting for my heart to calm down. When I felt some semblance of strength, I drew myself out of the water, stumbled towards the cave. There was some cold coffee left, I knew, and some cognac, medicinal of course, to put me right. But the day of shocks wasn't over by far. When I happened to glance towards the third pool I saw my reflection on the still surface. I now sported a full mop of unruly hair, not longer than before, yet the previously bald patch entirely afforested, pure white, and so were my beard and moustache, even eyebrows and pubic hair had lost all pigment. I didn't wear my glasses. I must have knocked them off in that last great conflagration. No problem, I could recover them. And then, the thrilling realisation: why should I? I can see perfectly, right out to the horizon. There was one thing, however, which compounded my surprise and confusion. To say I was sexually stimulated would have been the understatement of the year. I was as randy as a spring toad and sporting an erection which would have been a major embarrassment, had there been anybody about to see it. As it were, I couldn't remember for the life of me when last I had been aroused like that. Smokes and drinks will do that to a man, I suppose.