At long last, Jacob tells his life story to Walt face to face.

Morning came on the day of September 22, 2004. Richard and Walt ate from the provisions Richard had brought along, and then traveled the last half kilometer to the Black Rock. Walt felt a chill as they entered through the hole in the hull, much as he had when he had found the ship on his walkabout. Almost immediately a swirl of black smoke came in through cracks in the timbers, and formed a figure of just about the same color. The figure soon clarified somewhat into that of an old man, with a long beard. Due to the lack of contrast it was hard to tell what he was wearing, though the shirt and pants looked very ragged to Walt. As the face came more into focus, Walt thought that more than anyone else he could think of, it resembled an aged version of Michael.

The figure spoke in a much more natural voice than before. "Good morning, gentlemen. Thank you, Richard, for bringing Walter here."

"It was my pleasure, Jacob. It's good seeing you again. Anything I can do, just please let me know."

"You must leave us, and take care of business back at the village."

"I understand, Jacob. Good-bye."

Richard went back through the hole in the hull, leaving Jacob and Walt alone. Walt had been too overwhelmed to speak or move. When Richard was well out of earshot, Jacob pointed to a wall and commanded,

"Walt, you will shackle yourself to that bulkhead."

Walt could not help but obey in the presence of Jacob's aura. Walt calmly strode to where Jacob was pointing, where there were pairs of manacles bolted to the wall each with a single link of chain, near the floor and over Walt's head, each pair at shoulder width apart. Walt turned around with his back to the wall, bent down, and locked a manacle around his right ankle, and then his left ankle. Straightening up, he then adjusted his loincloth while he had the chance. Then he reached up, getting on his toes, and used his left hand to snap a manacle shut around his right wrist. Next, he reached up with his left hand toward the last manacle, and realized he couldn't use his right hand to close it since that hand was already locked in place. Walt snapped out of his trance-like state.

"Hey, I can't do the last one by myself."

Walt looked into Jacob's eyes, and Jacob's stare froze Walt's soul. I must not disappoint Jacob. Walt got up on his tiptoes and placed the back of his left wrist in the last manacle. He craned his neck to see how it was mounted. With just a single chain link between the manacle and the bolt in the wall, there was very little leeway, but Walt found he could rotate his wrist and make the open link of the manacle bounce off the wall. His first three efforts met with failure, but on the fourth attempt the link rebounded with enough force to close around his left wrist.

"Ha! I did it!"

Walt beamed as he lowered himself down onto his heels. The manacles over his head were set at a height so that he could just keep his weight on his heels, with his arms stretched straight up and a slight straightening of his spine. A warm glow suffused throughout Walt's body, as if he were meant to be there. Walt cheerfully noticed Jacob smile.

Then after a minute, Walt snapped. What did I just do? I chained myself up? Alarmed, Walt struggled in his bonds. He figured the old ship might have weak bulkheads, but that proved not to be the case, at least where he was fixed in place. There was very little freedom of movement, only a few centimeters. After another minute Walt gave up and stood still, and glared at Jacob. Jacob rather walked up to and around Walt, eyeing him studiously. Walt felt like he was being inspected at a slave market, and his mind wandered. At least I should bring a good price. Then Walt shook his head violently and let out his anger.

"Why do I have to be in these shackles!"

"Because those are the shackles that brought me to this Island, and you need to experience what I experienced."

"What? Who are you? What are you?"

Jacob waited for Walt to calm down.

"You can best think of me as a material manifestation of Jacob's spirit. As for my history, I was born in 1837 in what now is Guinea. In 1845, the Black Rock set sail from England. It was purportedly on a trading mission to Siam, but its real purpose was to trade in slaves, a practice illegal in the British Empire by that time. A month later a raiding party captured many men and boys of my tribe. I was the youngest by several years, but did not get special treatment. We were all put in chains, and I was shackled hand and foot just as you are now."

Walt wasn't so angry now as he listened to Jacob's tale. He looked down the length of his body, and asked, "So that means all you had to wear was a little loincloth? Did you tell Richard to make this? It could have been a bit bigger."

"It was always hot in my village, so there was never any need to wear more than that. That size may have been more appropriate for me at the time, when I was but eight. We'll get to Richard a little later."

"Okay, but if this was a slave ship, was it headed for America? How did it get in the middle of the Pacific?"

"We were headed for America. Then something happened no one could explain. There was a great flash of purple light, and the next thing anyone knew the Black Rock was grounded this far inland on this Island. I know now that someone, an original inhabitant of this Island, turned the donkey wheel, and moved the Island underneath this ship, at a location in the middle of the Atlantic. The impact killed many of the crew and my fellow villagers, but I survived with minor injuries, as did the man in charge of the mission, a very ruthless fellow named Lucifer Alpert."

Jacob paused to see if the name meant anything to his captive audience, but it didn't.

"Lucifer Alpert and his crew found this Island deserted, and then made me and my tribe mates their slaves."

Walt wiggled his fingers and toes. His position was getting uncomfortable.

"Look, I'm sorry you had such a bad time, but can you please unchain me? I promise not to run away or hurt you or anything."

"You have yet to fully experience what you must."

Now Walt was getting annoyed. With nothing to lose, he erupted. "That's your answer for everything! Don't you know what I've been through? Why are you doing all this crazy stuff to me? Like knocking me out, and tying me up by that long grass? Do you know what it feels like to wake up all tied down naked and spread-eagled on the ground?"

Jacob took a step back, and looked disappointed in the outburst. Then he replied, "As a matter of fact, I do. That happened many times, and those were the good days."

"What!" Walt's chest was heaving, putting more strain on his arms and back.

Jacob calmly explained, "After the crash, when I was released from those shackles, I attacked Lucifer Alpert. It was foolhardy, but I was young and didn't understand all that was going on and the consequences. I punched him in the kidney and kicked him in the ankle, breaking a bone and giving him a permanent limp. Of course he fought back, and my loincloth got ripped off in the struggle. That appeared insignificant as he was able to grab me, and was in all probability going to kill me for my insolence, when his eight-year old son Richard intervened."

Walt settled down, as it looked like Jacob expected him to make a connection.

"Richard … Alpert? Is that our Richard's last name? Are they related?"

"Yes, and you could say that they are related."

Jacob paused to see if Walt could guess the exact relationship, but Walt did not. Jacob continued,

"Lucifer had brought Richard along to show him the ways of the family business, but Richard was the opposite of his father. Richard's eyes had displayed guilt when he looked at me chained to the bulkhead. As his father was hitting me, Richard begged Lucifer to let him have me as his own slave. While Richard and I were the same age, the practice was not unheard of as a way of teaching the next generation how to run a plantation. It warmed Lucifer's cold heart to see his only son take such an interest, and he agreed, with conditions. I would work for Lucifer whenever he wanted me, and do Richard's bidding at other times. As punishment for hitting Lucifer, I would have to sleep with my hands and feet chained every night. And since Lucifer considered me such a savage, I was deemed unworthy of wearing clothes. I didn't get to replace my loincloth, and I wound up spending the next eight years naked."

Walt gulped. "Eight years? How did you … manage?"

"There was nothing I could do about it, so I got used to it. Like you did on your walkabout."

"Well, yeah, but there was no one to see me, so that was different."

"In any case, it was something of another common experience for us. Now in my case, if I behaved, I got to sleep shackled to four stakes salvaged from the ship that they pounded into the ground."

Walt winced. "That Lucifer was sure one bad dude. If sleeping like that was a good day, what was a bad day … or maybe I don't want to know?"

"You must know. If I did anything Lucifer found suspicious, like running away or not working fast enough, he found different sleeping accommodations for me. I would be tied to a tree, or suspended from a branch, either right-side-up or upside-down. And sometimes I got hogtied. Richard did his best to alleviate my discomfort, and often gave me food or water, and treated cuts and small wounds, but had to be careful to keep up the act in case his father or some of the other crew was around."

A look of comprehension came over Walt's face. "So that's why you did all those things to me – because they happened to you?"

Jacob nodded. "I only got through it all because of Richard. He taught me English, and I caught on quickly. As we got older, Lucifer entrusted more of my care and punishment to Richard. This worked well, as it saved me from getting whipped very much like the other slaves suffered, and Richard could avoid tying me too tightly, though I would act like I was in great discomfort in front of Lucifer. When Richard and I were eleven he showed off to his father by ordering me to shackle myself spread-eagled to the ground, and I had to bounce the last manacle off the ground like you did a little while ago. Lucifer laughed at the result, when I squirmed and couldn't free myself, and never suspected we were up to anything."

"That still sounds pretty bad, but I see it could have been worse. Wait, I got stuck in mud or quicksand an unusual number of times. What was up with that?"

"Lucifer was very interested in exploring the Island when he found out how hard it was to leave. He had this brilliant idea of when we came to a swampy spot, to send me in first. If I made it through, the rest would follow. But if I got stuck, he would leave me there and look for another way around. It happened some to the other slaves too, but Lucifer really had it in for me since I was the one who had attacked him. Also, after some heavy rainfalls, he would order me to walk into an area near our camp that would become filled with deep soft mud. Sometimes I had to climb out onto a branch, hang by my hands for as long as I could, and then jump in. He got a kick out of watching me sink, and struggle, and get stuck. At least when I wasn't wearing or carrying anything I wouldn't sink too far, anywhere between my waist and chest, but that was enough to be really stuck."

"It figures you got stuck a lot too. That was so annoying, having to wait for the ground to firm up."

"Actually, it was better than having to work all day, and Richard would toss food and water casks to me. Often he would end up handing me a shovel after a day or two and I'd have to dig myself out with that when I couldn't with my bare hands. Sleeping that way wasn't so bad either compared to my other options, so I would pretend to Lucifer that I hated it more than I really did. Once I didn't, and he ordered Richard to set a log down near me, and push me in up to my neck with my arms at my sides. I was too scared to move after that, and Lucifer wouldn't let Richard help me out for three days, though he was allowed to feed me."

"That Lucifer guy sounds real sick."

"That he certainly was. Of course most days I had to work all the time, but we were there a long time and there wasn't always something to do, and Lucifer had to have his entertainment."

Walt recalled more incidents. "Was getting tangled up in vines part of that?"

"Close. There was plenty of rope from the ship, and Richard would tie me up with that, and leave me to flop around on the ground for hours. Sometimes I could hop around a little. Again it was an act, with me pretending it hurt more than it did."

Walt stood on his tiptoes, trying to relieve the strain on his arms. After half a minute the arches on his feet started feeling sore, and he settled back on his heels. It was clear that Jacob was going to keep Walt in the manacles as long as he wished, and Walt had another question he had to ask, and phrased it calmly so as to not antagonize Jacob again.

"So I understand you had a terrible life, and wanted someone to know about it. But … why me? What makes me so special?"

Jacob paused, and again stepped up to and in front of Walt, giving Walt the impression he was being examined again. Jacob smiled for a moment, as if the nearly naked shackled boy passed inspection, and stepped back.

"I shall continue with my story. After eight years of living on this Island, Lucifer's crew found the donkey wheel under the Orchid station. The station had been damaged, and a lot of digging was required. As I was sixteen by then, I was doing my fair share of the work. Since we didn't know how the wheel worked, Lucifer had one of the slaves push it one-eighth of a turn. He disappeared in a burst of purple light, and the Island moved through space, landing in Lake Eyre of Australia, though we didn't know it at the time.

For some reason Lucifer was suspicious of me, and had me chained to a tree outside. But the other surviving slaves used this as a distraction. Seeing their friend vanish, they reasoned that anything was better than this for them. Together, they turned the wheel some more together, and they all disappeared, and the Island moved again, this time to its present location. However, during the few minutes we were in Australia, a naked fourteen-year-old Aboriginal girl on her walkabout had stepped across a small strait from the mainland to the Island, and had been carried along.

Attracted by the noise, she came to the camp, and saw me. I was stunned to see her. There had been no women on the ship, as Lucifer thought that meant bad luck, and Wyuna, as her named turned out to be, was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Unfortunately she was made a slave as well. Richard, though, convinced Lucifer that it was time Wyuna and I were allowed something to wear, and for the next few years we did have good grass skirts.

Four years later, we had a baby boy, that we named Tomba. It looked like we were all going to live the rest of our lives on the Island as no one dared turn the wheel again. However, two years later, some of the crew found the correct heading to leave the Island. It took some time to find their way back, but now there was communication with the outside world. Soon after that, in 1859, catastrophe struck. Lucifer, never having forgotten my attack on him fourteen years previously, sold Tomba for a high price to a plantation owner in the American south, a man named Roderick Dawson."

Walt trembled at the mention of the surname and the possible implications.