When the men arrived at the dock, they immediately dialed for the paramedics. Chuck, who was still in a dazed state, stood up from the woven basket. He took one step and then tumbled down like a drunken old man. Fishing gear flew everywhere. Chuck felt terrible. These men had saved him, he was going to leave and had made a huge mess.
"Don't worry about it man, you're Ill. Take a rest." Bruce stated.
"I am not leaving you with a mess." Chuck choked out.
Chuck's face lit up upon the realization that he just communicated with another human. He hadn't accomplished this in years. He thought that maybe there was hope for a normal life. Chuck began collecting the spilled fishing poles and lined them up against the wall. Bruce and Martin were getting annoyed, but grateful for the extra help.
"Hey, what's your name again?" Martin questioned.
"My name is Chuck. I've been lost for a long time now." He replied.
"What do you mean lost?" Bruce snapped.
"I have been stranded on an island with my friend Wilson for around eleven years."
The color drained from Bruce and Martin's faces. Never had they expected this response.
"How did you get on an island?" Martin questioned.
"I worked for Fedex for years, the plane crash landed in the ocean." I was the only survivor.
"That doesn't make sense. I thought you had a friend. Was the Island inhabited?" Bruce stated.
"Yes, I did have a friend, Wilson. We were the only ones on the island." Chuck sighed.
"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure Wilson was a good man, he'd be proud of you for getting this far." Bruce said softly.
Chuck and the men continued to pick up dropped supplies, still waiting on the paramedics.
"Where should I put these sinkers?" Chuck questioned.
"Over there, in that thing." Martin pointed.
"Where?" Chuck said in confusion.
"That container or something in the corner." Martin replied.
Chuck walked over to a woven basket. Was this what Martin was referring to. Chuck hadn't been reintroduced to society a day and already was confused. He reached for the lid of the basket and calmly slid it off. There was some strange straw-like material emerging at the surface. Chuck must have had the wrong bin. There was no room for sinkers in here. He put the lid back down when he realized that the grassy bundle was the remains of his dear friend's hair.
"WILSON." Chuck screamed.
Martin and Bruce nearly fell over in fear. Never had they heard a grown man yell so loud. He really was mad. Maybe they should have left him on the raft. Chuck's face welled up, red with hot tears of Joy. He held up his beloved friend. Wilson's bloody face was smeared but that didn't make him any less loved. Chuck was once again reunited with his companion. Suddenly the ship lit up with lights of red and blue. The loud sirens pierced Chuck's ears. He hadn't missed that sound. Chuck departed Martin and Bruce's ship.
"I really have no words to describe my gratitude. You saved me. Thank you." Chuck stated while hugging Wilson.
He didn't even bother to question how the men found him. The only thing that mattered was that wherever Chuck would spend the night, Wilson would be by his side again.