7

"Hey!" was the first thing I heard her say; I heard before I even glimpsed her. I turned around slowly, and saw Helen.

She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen – even with her brown hair a tangled mess and filthy clothes. I hated her at first sight.

She smiled brightly at me, eagerly telling me her story and asking me about myself. Where did I come from? Is there a community here? With showers? And real beds? And ice cream?!

She told me that her full name was Helen Murphy, and that she had been on a long distance sailing trip with her friend, Polly, and Polly's dad and brother. She and Polly were both twenty-three… no, Polly was still twenty-two. They'd hit a storm, a big one, but that would have been ok. Something went wrong that Helen didn't really understand, and then they'd somehow ended up on the beach, with half the boat in the jungle. Polly's father was dead, and her little brother was missing, but later Polly had gotten ill. Dysentery was what Helen thought it must have been. She laughed when she said that it was always Polly who had been affected by "dodgy" takeaways (Polly's dad was English, apparently).

I showed the needed sympathy and friendly, and invited her to come with me, said that we'd look after her. She beamed at me, and told jokes and laughed as she told her tragedy. She seemed more excited than traumatised. She didn't ask who "we" were, and I wasn't quite sure what "we" would do with her once she was at the village.

I was eager to get back, but cautious about pushing her physically; she looked a little weak. I wondered what her fate would be. It might end up all right for her, but then again, it might not. I wasn't that concerned, I just wanted to get back, and reign in another stray wondering around the island.

Then something happened. As we walked side by side, Helen tripped on a tree root and fell against a tree. I quickly moved over to her and steadied her, and then with one look at me she burst into tears and buried her face in my shoulder.

With this simple event I was struck to the core that she was a real person. Before she was just a problem, another castaway on the island. Somehow I found her feelings laid out in front of me like the map I had begun to see people as, but to actually see it for what it was – not cold hard symbols and facts – and it was a map with textures and colours so real as to almost jump out and touch me. She had been alone for so long, and now she was in human contact again. I was what she had been hoping for for so long. Me.

I changed my mind about taking her back in that moment. I told her I couldn't take her. When she asked me why, I couldn't think. I could only feel this feeling like my insides where being ripped up, and every time she looked at me, every time she said my name, an extra heave would twist my guts up further.