The prologue to “The Travelling Medicine Show” is one that is ambiguous and uncertain. I see the film as a boy who is witnessing the creation of the earth. He arrived from the depths of another world. In this world, there are things that do not make sense. The lives of each and every person are not structured so that they become doctors and lawyers. It is a world of no order, no civilization. This world has not been good to the boy. He searches for a new world but instead he finds a world with even less order, an unformed Earth. His old world is depicted to us by his vivid dreams that include masked men and other odd occurrences. It seems that this other dimension parallels the earth. All the people are masked and dance around instead of going to work. The entrepreneurs do not tend to business in this little boy’s world. The child was a son to one of those entrepreneurs. He expected his father to work and to earn money so that he could eat. Instead of working, he danced around and ran with other masked people. The boy was starving and crestfallen. He went to ask his mother but she was a masked doctor. Instead of sewing people up, she danced around with other masked doctors. The only people working were the security guards and unemployed people. They were the ones that could not afford a mask so they were unable to dance around.

“Why do none of the big people work for money and food?” The boy asked his father.

“Because that is not the way of our people, we dance around until our masks fall off.” The father replied. Unsatisfied with the reason, the boy got frustrated. His mother did not work, nor did his father. The little child who was only 12 decided to run away. His life was abysmal and full of hunger. He decided to jump in his boat and sail away. He went to a new world but he kept being reminded of the pains of his masked parents. The boy was in absolute distraught. So he decided to find another world. He got on his boat and sailed away.

After the movie, the boy found another world. Only this world was not a new world. It was one that the boy had been to. In fact, it had been the place he had come from. The one with his parents that danced around until the sun came down. His parents were furious at his return to the world.

“Where have you been?” His mother asked. The angry look on her face frightened the little boy. With such intense phobia, he ran away. He went back on his boat and sailed away. He did not care that he was hungry or tired. The boy arrived in a new world with no one on it. Instead there were animals. The animals wore masks and danced around instead of preying on other animals. The masks reminded the little boy of home and the hardships that he had endured.

The boy got back on his boat and sailed to another island. There were no people and no animals in a new world. Instead there were fruit. The fruit of this island wore masks and danced around instead of growing on trees and lying on the ground. The boy was realizing that maybe the worlds were not the problem. The problem was his hysteria that made him imagine masked things which danced around.

The little boy tried one more world. In this eclectic world, there were no people, animals and fruits. There were only tables. These were not any tables. They were tables that wore masks and danced around. The boy’s hypothesis was correct. The emotional tragedies he faced as a child are following around from world to world. The little boy realized that he could not fix this problem by travelling to a new world. He could only go back to his old one and begin to mend his broken mind.

Once he rowed his way back to his parents, he began to ponder the mystery. He wondered about the purpose of the masks and the dancing. The boy was scared that he would not like what he found out. He eventually conquered his fear and asked his mother the purpose of the masks and dancing.

His mother replied, “Because this is all a dream.” With that the boy woke up, shivering with cold sweat. He began to scream at the nightmare he had just experienced. The little boy’s mother raced into the room and asked him why he was screaming. She had no mask on and did not dance around. The boy smiled, closed his eyes and slept. His new dream was about monkeys and ponies.

Before the Show

A battle, a cry, a lunge.

He couldn’t make it, not quite.

The others were done, why not he?

Fumbling, a loss of concentration.

He throws it down, but wait,

He sees it now. A knot.

SOLVED. He joins them.

Then, the next test.

Simple, yet none are good.

He finishes and waits.

The prize is none but a boat and a task,

Yet all work for their lives.

“The tests don’t really matter,” they say,

but he can feel it.

Top marks, he doesn’t believe it.

He tried, but not that hard.

Could it be? No, not possible.

Next is training, who will survive?

DO NOT LET IT FALL OUT OF THE BOAT!

Words they will never let him forget.

Day and night, day and night,

The words are forged into his head.

So many instructions.

He tries to remember them all.

None are perfect

And none to inconsistent.

Soon one will be chosen, very soon.

All of them are nervous,

Who will it be?

It can’t be the scrawny one,

Or the buff one.

The brainy one won’t do either.

“The boy has been chosen,”

They announce.

They call his name,

It has never sounded so odd.

He is frozen, they call him again.

The applause grows louder,

And finally he moves.

Now, he must complete the task.

After the Show

They see him finally,

He nears the shore.

Everyday they came out to look.

Making sure they get to him first.

They mustn’t let the others know, that

He is back.

He steps out of the boat, scared.

What will they do to him?

They grab him, and

Take him to a cottage

To let him eat and rest.

They know the journey has been tiring.

Days pass,

Nobody knows he is back.

Each day a new question is asked.

They want to know what happened.

He cannot say,

The words have left him.

He only points,

Points to the box.

They do not understand.

The box is empty,

Already opened and examined.

They tried to prevent it.

They try to understand,

Tests, exams, assessments,

Nothing works.

They tell the others he is back,

Just resting up and

Not to bug him too much.

They understand

He doesn’t want to talk.

He waits,

Eleven months pass.

He watches,

Twelve new boys are chosen.

He is there,

Waiting and watching with the boys

For a name to be called.

Just before the name is called

He stands and walks

Toward the stage.

Now, he chooses to speak.

In the beginning there was darkness and silence. Then there was light. Then water and earth. Then animals. Then came women and man.

The silence shrieked, the light burned, the water dried up, the earth tightened, the animals fled, and man and women were left alone.

Nothing.

Their hearts couldn’t contain all the empty space.

Now the earth is made of wires, the water paper mache and clouds are just splattered paint.

One boy went right out of his mind trying to escape. Turning in circles in a memory maze. Trying to uncover how he ended up in a world that no longer breathes.

The boy believed that everything must belong somewhere so he went to search for the past. The waves decided to let go, and they welcomed the boy back.

He jumped in a boat and sailed away. Everything got smaller as he drifted toward the reunion of the known and unknown.

A boy was sitting on the beach. There he could see the coastline but no boats ever passed by, it was deserted and empty. It reminded him of himself, of how lonely he was. He had no memory of his parents or of anyone for that matter. For as long as he could remember, he had been living by himself by the shore. There were no cabins or houses nearby, he was an island by himself, and he had no connection to anyone or anything.

Everyday he would walk by the beach going up and down the sand. When he would get tired, he would sit down and start to build a fire. As the fire would begin to roar, he searched for food to satisfy his hunger. He would then lie in the sand, staring at the stars and moon until he fell in to his dreams. His life was simple, nothing to worry or concern himself with.

One morning he woke up, he once again began to walk up and down the beach when something caught his attention. There was a boat drifting not too far from the shore. The boy had never seen anything like it, it was oddly shaped like a bowl. He immediately swam out eagerly to see what it was. He began to drag it back toward the beach and slowly made his way across the water. When he arrived back on the land, he was exhausted, but it was worth it. He looked inside the boat. There lay an oar, a box and a map. The boy was dumbfounded, he wondered why such a thing would be doing in a boat. He carefully picked up the map and looked at it. Immediately he recognized an island on the map, it was the one he was living on, after walking up and down the beach so often he had memorized the shape of the island. There was one other island on the map, labeled on it was written “The Travelling Medicine Show”. He put down the map and looked at the box. He looked at it and noticed that the same writing on it was on the labeled island. This box must belong to the island on the map he thought.

He wondered why a boat would float all the way to his own deserted island, perhaps someone was trying to contact him. Maybe someone had just dropped their things and let the water carry it away. The boy was curious what the purpose of these things were for. He was ready for a change of scenery, he knew that his life would stay the same unless he finally moved on. He got in to the boat, and began to paddle his way to the island.

The boy began to paddle out on the boat away from the shore. However he was unconscious of what he was doing. He no longer controlled his own bodily functions. He was a machine controlled by a simple remote and was powerless to do anything against it. He had been healed upon the island, and was no longer “sick”. He was programmed to do one thing, find others and bring them to the island so that they could be healed like he was. He paddled for as long as he could until he became tired and fell asleep. When woke wake up he didn’t care where he was, he just continued to paddle along in any direction.

After a few days, he finally had an island in sight and began to make his way there. As he neared the beach he got off the boat and dragged the boat in. The island was nothing special, similar to the one he had been on a few days before. He was exhausted though, he lay on the beach and instantly fell sleep. During his sleep, he began to dream of his journey on the island, of everything that had happened. He embraced the dreams and became motivated by them.

When he woke up he was eager to start looking for others so that they could be healed. He began to walk around the island and did not see any structures that were built by man. He decided to walk deeper inside the island but still found nothing. “I’ll go to another island” he thought. However when he decided to go back he had no idea where he was or where the boat was. He began frantically looking for a way out. Night began to fall and he was forced to spend another night on the deserted island. However when he fell asleep this time, he dreamed of how he walked on the island and found his way back to the boat. When he woke up, he followed the direction that he had walked in the dream and sure enough he found the boat. He got in and once again began to search for another island.

Soon he came upon another island and landed his boat there. He looked around and saw the remains of a fire. He knew that there was someone else on the island. He walked further down the beach and saw a girl sitting there staring out in to the waters. The boy immediately drew back and observed her. For the next few days he did nothing but watch her, she had a simple life. She would walk up and down the beach, when she got tired she would begin to build a fire. As the fire would begin to roar, she searched for food and then would eventually go to sleep. The boy knew what this girl’s life was like and of how sick this girl was. So as she slept one night, he dragged the boat close to where she was sleeping and left an oar, a box and a map. He than wandered off, leaving the girl to go to “The travelling Medicine show”.

The Night Before

He eyed the little white pellet warily.

“Go on. You deserved it.”

“I-”

“Look, if you don’t want it, just say so. I’ll just sell this to someone else,” the dealer pulled the pill away from him.

“Wait, no! I’ll take it,” he dug in his pockets and pulled out forty dollars. He handed it to the dealer, who dropped the pill in his hands, and left. The pill rolled about in his palm. It looked innocent enough, but he knows it contains enough hallucinogen to seriously knock him out for a few good hours. The only question now is whether to take it or not. He still has school in the morning, and work after that…

School and work, the two words swirled in his head, as well as the faces of the people that are associated with it. His boss demanded that as his assistant, he must do his son’s school project for him or be fired. The project had something to do with the environment and puppet shows, he was not sure which. During the whole meeting, he had glared hatefully at the painting of the antelope skull behind his boss’s head, pretending it was his boss instead. He noticed that if he placed his head at a certain angle, it seemed that horns were coming out of his boss’s head…

School was not much better. Eight subjects all demanded his attention. It was impossible to focus on them all, and even one waver of attention can lead to a failing grade. Grades have him trapped within a fragile glass cage in which a flutter of the eyelash can cause the cage to break and plummet him into the abyss, forever destroying his future and –

Screw this. Screw this. He deserved one night off. He popped the pill in his mouth.

He woke up next morning on a boat in the middle of a large body of water, with a strange looking briefcase, a child’s map, a compass and selective memory. It was crossed the line for him from finding his situation being terrifying to being just so goddamned funny.

After the Island

He was not sure if the drug was still acting on him during his stay on the island. The things that he saw were definitely crazy enough to support that idea. Shaking the fog from his head, he scanned the water for a sign of land. None.

From which direction did he come from in the first place? He looked down at his sorry excuse for a map that he had with him. Utterly useless when he did not have any clue which whacked-out island he was on.

At least his situation can’t get worse.

So he paddles in a random direction. Perhaps he’ll see another boat and they will take him back to where he lived. So he paddles.

But he never seems to get anywhere. The sea surrounds him, and he was utterly alone. There was no movement, save the rise and fall of the water. From the entire panorama, he could not locate a single seagull. Beneath him, he could not see a single fish. The sun sits perfectly still in the sky, and the clouds… were there any clouds anymore?

The clouds seemed to have either disappeared completely without him knowing, or covered the entire sky so evenly that it is hard to tell. He craned his neck and looked directly above him. The sun seemed to be missing as well.

He slowly withdrew his paddle from the water. Only it was not water. It seemed as if the sky had fused with the sea, blurring the horizon into one great iron-gray sheet in front of his eyes. He gripped his little wooden boat, the only thing that did not blur into the grayness around him.

He had to keep going. So he dipped his paddle into the water and started rowing again.

He never gets anywhere. He never will. The boat will fall off the edge of the earth before he gets anywhere.

The sun came up with no conclusions. Yet, the boy still searched around the island looking for something to open his eyes to the unknown.

He met the Medicine Man and the world let loose its secret creation. The light now guided him, the water tugged at his boat, the earth opened up, the animals welcomed him and he was no longer alone. He became part of everything once again.

He decided that he was ready to face the world. The oceans spoke and spit like the mumble of the spectators at the Traveling Medicine Show.

He looked up at the sky and wondered how it got stuck up there and realized that some questions just don’t have answers. He was destined to always be in the unknown.

Prequel

I think that the role of the boy in this film was to act as a bridge between the world of creationism and the earth. His purity and innocence brought him to the attention of a group of searching immortals who’ve come from the future. They find that they are unable to travel in the present world without the accompaniment of a present mortal, so they figure that they’d lure him in to play the part of their “traveler.” The show’s ultimate goal is to spread the theory of creationism throughout the earth by visiting all peoples no matter what their race or beliefs. At first the boy feels as if he’s been subjected to an unfortunate life of misery, but as time goes on he begins realizes the great honor of being chosen…

They arrived just as the sun had sunk below the horizon, weak and tired from their journey. It was not a long one however time travel was always hard on the body. One by one they emerged from the single briefcase, knowing that they must find a present human to carry them within the hour if they wanted to stay on the planet. They scanned each and every soul; searching far and wide, the choice was difficult until they crossed paths with one particular individual. When they did it was immediately obvious that they had found who they’d been looking for.

It was late and dark, the type of dark where you aren’t able to see your own hand even if you were to stick it right out in front of your face The boy was going home through the ravine after a long night at his aunt’s. It was a strange night, one where there was no light, no moon, no stars, or wind. All was silent except for the sound of the crunching of leaves under his shoes. Suddenly an urgent rustling could be heard, he turns his head to catch a powerful bright yellow glowing orb.

Against all good judgment to walk away, he moves closer to the scene. He was unable to look away; his eyes locked hard on the light as he came closer. Never had he experienced anything so hypnotizing and alluring. Time seemed to freeze as he glided towards to light. Once close enough, an unknown force caused him to extend his right arm, index finger forward, to touch the center of the paranormal orb. When he made contact everything went black.

The boy woke up to find himself on the forest floor. Strangely he was not confused, in fact, nothing in the world could be clearer to him than in that one moment. A series of flashes like a moving picture had been played in his mind of a story about the origins of humans. Right then, nothing besides what he’d just saw mattered to him, he knew where he was going and what he had been destined to. Before him there had appeared a compass, a map, and a briefcase. He swiftly picked up the articles and set off towards sea to do what he knew he had to do.

Sequel

As he left the island the he watched it slowly fade away into a point of nothingness. A couple of stray memories lingered in his mind as he tried to focus on his boat and paddling; he paddled day and night, through rain or shine. Over time it became apparent that he developed a liking for the paddling; it kept him sane and provided him with a physical goal to strive for. The steady mechanical combination of tough sinew and brawny muscle had really begun to develop his upper arms. The harshest times though had to be at high noon when the heat oppressed sun beat down on his back like a whip striking its victim. He endured this pain for days, weeks, months, years visiting island after island with the briefcase on a tightly fastened route.

Fueled only by the strange bottles of medicine from each of the previous shows, he did not seem to age. This confused the boy greatly because he was certain that time was passing, he’d marked every fleeting day with a notch on his boat yet somehow he’d remained relatively unchanged.

The amount of time it took to travel from one island to another was roughly the same for each trip. However, one time the boy noticed that he’d been travelling for an abnormally long period of time. His expected arrival time at the island was twenty days off, but then twenty turned into thirty which turned into forty. When it reached fifty days he began to really worry; panic overcame him as the treacherous thought of being stranded out in the middle of no where crowded his mind. This left him with no other option but to keep paddling onwards and pray to find land soon. A total of one hundred and eighteen days had passed before the boy spotted the faint outline of an island. Relief flooded over him like a rain storm quenching a century long drought. It was the longest trip he had yet to experience.

The familiar sound of the bottom of his boat scrapping up against the rocky beach brought a silent smile to the boy’s face. He quickly collapsed into the sand, and let out a loud holler of joy. As he looked around he noticed that the island was identical the very first one he’d travelled to. Glancing more closely at his surroundings he saw an illuminated orb the size of a bowling ball at the edge of the forest dead ahead. He felt an attraction to the orb not unknown to him. Upon reaching the peculiar object, his touch resulted in a blinding light and speed. Realizing he’d clenched his eyes shut, he slowly opened them to see that he was in some sort of aircraft and below was a delicate blue and green ball shrinking in size. All around were millions of other glowing bowling balls that were similarly being hurtled at an unreal velocity in all directions.

His journey lasted for what seemed like an eternity before he began to decelerate. He saw a large orange sphere which seemed to be his destination. As he neared the orange mass a compass, a map, and a familiar battered old briefcase appeared at his side. He took in one last deep breath and braced himself for what he knew what he had to do…

Prequel:

Not this again. Not again. It is always the same. I want it to stop. I can not start it no matter how hard I try to. We have no control. I try to start it. I really do. Just so it can be finished sooner, and finished on my terms, and yet. And yet nor can I stop this. This never ending chain of events, always the same yet, tedium ensues; it is constant in its inconsistencies, different in its details but always the same story. I have seen it more times than I can count but every time it is different. The river of our life flowing past us. It looks the same on the outside, the same eddies and flows, but if you watch there are little discrepancies that can be seen with a close look. Yet these small differences are not enough; our life is incommensurate to the lives of the free people. We are trapped here. We can not divert the stream, this river of life. It is drowning us, we can not abate it. We do not want to.

“No don’t. I’m sorry.” They all say. They do not mean it. They never do. I do not mean that. They are kind and loving…they hurt me. Why do they always hurt me? They are not here now. I never hurt them. What about the first time we met them? What about then? “That was an accident.” You say. We are not sorry you are. That was a mistake. That was an accident. I never meant to, you know that I never meant to. You made me. You meant to. You, with your controlling and fighting and your lust for destruction and pain. Always you. Always you cast me down, when raising me up, to rule beside you, to be happy, would be easier. You’re spiteful for no reason. I want you gone.

I am gone. We are apart. But I am coming closer ever second now. The child is bringing me. The one we saw yesterday. The child will reunite us. We will repay him.

Gone? Yes. You are gone.

Empty.

Nothing left. But me. Just me.

The more I look at it, the more I like it. I do think it is good. I wish you were here to see it. I like it. The time spent. The time lost. Always time. Time is the answer. Its always time. But I have no question. Soon you say. I need a question. Can you be my question? Where are we going? Somewhere. Home. Back to you. We’ll meet some nice people again. Yes, people are nice. We’re nice. People are nice. We’re nice? yes. We are. But what about when we first met them? They cowered. We cowed them. You did. Not me. Not we. You. No. We did. We both meant to then. We do think it’s good. We like it.

wait.

Who is that? Is that the boychild? He is bringing us with him. We are getting closer now. Closer together. He is getting closer to us.

I am so thirsty.

Sequel:

“Where were you yesterday? And last night?”

I don’t like the questions. I think I may escape again.

My mother usually gets rather emotional when I go away for a little time, time to be apart from this world and part of another, and just escape to a realm that only I am in. Considering all that she’s been through I should go easier on her. Some people were never meant to manage children. And yet she thinks she’s doing a good job. Not so. At least from my perspective. I just want to get away. Run. Go somewhere people weren’t allowed. Unless I allowed them. I suppose that I would make a pretty good emperor or a dictator or something like that. I think I’d like that. Although with the power would come enemies. I suppose I would like to be a modern Jesus. Just without the whole sacrifice thing. Or the helping. So I guess I’d like to be a super villain. But if you ever read any of those comics you have to wonder, how is it that every villain loses? I feel bad for them. They are probably just as confused as I am. I’d like to think having special powers would make things easier, but I’m pretty sure that it would just complicate things.

My life is complicated. Most people who see what I do and how I do it wouldn’t think so. But there in lies my genius. I am constantly lowering everyone’s standards that they set for me. I’m thinking next year I’ll have a “revelation” or some such and just get way smarter. So my teachers will think that I’ve improved when really I’ll have just started thinking. I guess that I’m a little bit of a super villain myself.

What would make someone choose to be a super villain you ask? Well, having fist hand experience I do believe that I can tell you. Super villains such as me wander. Lost. We are cast adrift from society, well, any society but our own. We are ostracized. Most people don’t realize this but us super villains are due quite a lot of thanks. We make the superheroes look like Jesus come again, if only in comparison.

All the other kids at school, working hard and toiling for grades, while I’m just out to make them look better. Really they should be thanking me, instead of hurting me. I know that Jeffery is smarter than me. And stronger. And faster. And meaner. That doesn’t mean he has to flaunt it. And flaunt it until he makes my nose bleed. He’s good at punching, my superman.

Every super villain has his secret hide out, his lair, and so I have mine. I can escape there. I’m the smartest person there. I’m the emperor, the villain, the martyr, the saint, the antichrist, and even superman. I’m the evilest and the best at the same time there.

I can make up what ever I want. The scenery, my friends, and everything.

I’m the most popular kid in my hide out.

This boy is stranded on an island, not because he wants to be stranded but because he’s chosen to be. In his possession is a suitcase of unmentionables. Within this case is the circus of his imagination; a flamboyant display of sparkles, dazzles, and frizzle-frazzles. Except now there is a new toy to his collection. A maroon mask with high cheek bones, fitted with horse hairs and a smile that laughs at the boy. He didn’t like to be laughed at. The last person to laugh at him became close acquaintances with his ensemble of artifacts, well at least parts of the lad did. So, he wouldn’t take that apostle-like look it gave him, no he wouldn’t. He grabs the mask by its fine hairs and gives it a putrid stare back. Then he creates a fire, with the little tools he had with him, and sets up a little alter of sacrifice for the face. It glares back at him, eyes empty, and he turns away only to turn back again. As their gazes cross, sparks ignite causing a frenzy of crackles and pops until the boy closes his eyes. He opens them only to witness darkness. In this darkness he sees a sliver of light across the horizon, snaking into view. Then an explosion, as a cascade of brightness envelops his surroundings and sets ablaze the black blanket, momentarily blinding him. His eyes open to the scent of petunias and daisies. Tall creatures and short creatures, pretty creatures and ugly creatures, majestic creatures and awkward creatures surround him. He tries to move but he can’t, he is plastered between the monsters and their forceps. Suddenly, he is born and ejected out of the womb that incases him. Goo and residue cling to his body but are quickly cleaned off by the licks of the beasts. A short, awkward creature hands him a cupcake, a reward for being the first one born. He engulfs it, only to realize that he is much too full to keep it down and throws it back up. As he does this, he looks at his stomach to see a scar traced from the pit of his pelvis to the brim of his neck. No sound can escape his throat, and he faints.

He awakens to the rush of water. Somehow he has managed to tow his boat to the shore, get on, and paddle through the waters while being unconscious. In wonderment, he looks to the edge of the ocean and thinks to himself the lengthiness of the trip. His suitcase is still there, beside him, but now he has a red bottle of half-empty medicine.

prologue

he rummages through the dimly lit attic

and finds a suitcase decades old.

there’s a thick layer of accumulated dust.

he wipes the grime off with his hands

and realizes what he had found was special.

it has intricate patterns embellished all over

and a hatch that keeps its secrets within.

with fidgety hands, he opens it,

equally curious and afraid of what he might see.

it’s a letter with no date, no name,

crisp yet fragile from prolonged isolation.

the script is faint, barely legible.

he took his pocket light from his sweater

and focused the light to the letter.

“Beware onlooker, for what you see is the truth.”

intrigued, he sets the letter aside

and looks deeper within the case.

a map, a mask, and a bottle foreign.

the back of the map has a set of coordinates,

the bottle speaks in a language he did not know.

the mask smiles at him, a sly smile.

he escapes the suitcase.

but later, he dreams of embarking on a journey

to this place the suitcase kept within itself.

one night, he couldn’t ignore the dream no longer.

it was his reality, it was the truth.

epilogue

he looks for the map in the suitcase

as he drift away through the waters.

but when he expects to see a way back,

the map is a blank sheet.

he turns over the blank sheet.

“Welcome Home.”

he looks into his suitcase

and sees that the mask is frowning.

the bottle is labeled “Escape”

and realizes his makeshift boat is drowning.

the frigid waters invade into his space.

it reaches up to his chest

and with his shaky hands,

reaches out to the bottle.

this is his only way out.

he opens the bottle.

he lifts.

he drinks.

the doctor looks at me through the mask.

“You’ve made it!”

What happened before?

Open on the BOY. He is in his boat, just rowing. There is no sky, no sun, and no clouds. There is just a white fog that surrounds the boat. The Boy cannot see where he is going. He can barely see the water that he is rowing in. The Boy comes to a rock. Sort of like a small island floating in the sea. The rock is no bigger than the size of an ordinary bedroom. In the middle of the rock there is a hole. The hole has a ladder that leads downward. The boy gets off his boat, climbs onto the surface of the rock and peers into the hole. Darkness. He grabs hold of the ladder and beings to climb. The hole finally comes to an end. The Boy looks around. There is barely any light. The Boy begins to walk, feeling around the walls as he does it. Suddenly, the boy trips and falls to the ground. Once he regains himself, he feels around to see what he tripped over. He picks it up and brings it into the light. It’s a briefcase. The title on the briefcase reads: “Dr. Theo’s Travelling Medicine Show.” The Boy opens the briefcase. Inside the briefcase is a mask. It is the mask of an old man. The Boy analyzes the mask. Suddenly, he hears a noise coming from deep into the cave. The boy quickly puts the mask back into the briefcase, and shuts it. He crawls, briefcase under his arm, towards the noise. As he gets closer, he can see an orange light. He approaches the light to see a MAN sitting at a fire. His back is turned, but he senses that someone is there. He turns around to see the Boy. The Man gets up and approaches the Boy. He gently takes the briefcase away from the Boy. He opens it, takes out the mask, puts it on, and stands (the fire illuminating his masked face). He says: “Ladies… and Gentlemen… Ladies and Gentlemen. (Then, majestically) LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” We then cut to the white fog. A MAN IN WHITE stands in a boat. This man is wearing a plain white mask. The boat drifts along the water. This Man in White represents God. God before the creation of the Earth. End on the boy back in the whole. He is alone with the briefcase. He climbs back out of the whole, and goes back into his boat.

What happens after?

Once the boy leaves the island, he rows through a now clear sky and ocean. In the distance he spots another island. This island will be the grounds for the destruction of the Earth (whereas the original island was for creation). He gets to the island, and climbs out of his boat. It’s getting dark. He sets the briefcase down, and sits, facing the ocean. Cut to The Man, standing on his Travelling Medicine Show stage. He then gets into talking about the destruction of the Earth and what may come in the future. Cut to different interpretive movements (perhaps with fireworks) representing the destruction of the earth. The fireworks can resemble fire. Perhaps there is also a scene where two creatures set the Earth against a log and hack at it with an axe. End on the boy who wakes up staring at the calm ocean.

Before Creation

Participants stand anxiously in an industrial space. It is empty, except for a lush red curtain that covers one wall. The curtain’s appearance is plastic and artificial; the sign that reads “Dr. Theo’s Travelling Medicine Show” does little to help. In one fluid motion, the men and women strip down and the curtain is drawn. The “Travelling Medicine” is poured into a seemingly endless row of sample cups, clear and miniature. Upon drinking the liquid, the crowd passes through the curtain and into another room. This room is strikingly white. Lights shine brightly from the absent ceiling. The people look around at their pure surroundings. Many need to cover their eyes from the light. There is silence.

Suddenly, dream-like shadows are projected on the wall. It changes with ease, transforming from an orb to an alien to a monster to a geometric shape within seconds. It is dazzling and equally confusing. The shadows are gone. It is white again. Now, drops of coloured paint begin to fall from the ceiling. Naked bodies are now covered in an arbitrarily placed array of colours. It stops. Water begins to sprinkle down from the ceiling. The paint is washed away into the oblivion and is no longer visible. Water descends with greater vigour and fills the room to a waist-deep pool of water. It stops. White sheets, too, descend from the ceiling. Wind blows them in every direction. The motion of the sheets seems perpetual. Underwater, costumed figures maneuver through and graze each person’s legs. The water, then, begins to empty and the participants are left standing again. Silence.

Mysterious figures descend from the ceiling majestically. As they approach the ground, they reach for the participants and pull them up to the top of the room. Wind blows yet again and the motion, again, seems perpetual. After a few moments, the men and women are dropped. They fall on their backs and look up at the white lights. Silence.

One by one, each person gets up to leave. When the last one leaves, the focus travels towards the original factory-like room. The same group of people are standing, completely dressed. Again, they strip, drink the “Travelling Medicine” and pass through the red curtain.

After Creation

One raggedy, middle-aged man stands alone. He is in a brilliantly ornate theatre. However, all the seats have been removed except for one that is left in the middle. He takes a seat. A waiter dressed in a formal, black-and-white uniform comes out from one door and serves the man the “Travelling Medicine”. The liquid is served in a goblet. Upon finishing the drink, the waiter takes away his goblet. The waiter now pulls out a roll of duct tape and tapes the man to the seat. The waiter leaves. The theatre’s red velvet curtain rises. It is dark and empty. Silence.

Men in stilts appear on stage. They are dressed in all black and they each carry a lit lantern. These lanterns, however, are metal spheres with a glowing white light inside each of them. More men in stilts appear, entering through the theatre’s doors. These monstrous figures surround the man. He tries to scream, but nothing comes out. Silence.

A spotlight shines onto the stage. It lights up an empty area. Then, suddenly, a caped emcee pops up through a stage door. He is smiling enthusiastically and raises his arms for applause. He frowns upon realizing that there is only one other person in the theatre. The emcee approaches the one audience member and analyzes him carefully. He pokes and prods at his body without hesitation. Screaming, the emcee pulls out a gun and aims it at the other man’s head. He pulls the trigger. A flag pops up. It reads, “Gotcha!” Silence.

The emcee pulls out a knife and cuts the man out of his duct tape restraints. The man walks free and tries to escape; he is desperate to run away from this madness. The doors are locked. Waving his hands, the emcee motions to the masked figures around him. They simultaneously light the theatre on fire. Flames begin to destroy the building. The man bangs on the door with even greater urgency. On his last knock, the door opens and the man frantically escapes. He runs, his heart beating furiously. He sees another door and runs through it. Again, the same theatre surrounds him. There is no fire in sight. Silence.

Before the film

His long brown hair was blowing in the wind as he ran through the forest. He was being chased by three boys. One was small and husky with short red hair. Another was tall and lean with brown hair, and the last one was tall, muscular and bald. They were each carrying a pair of scissors in their left hand. They were shouting words at him, but he couldn’t understand their language. He continued to place one foot in front of the other, swerving through the thick trees, kicking up the leaves in his way. He jumped over fallen logs and avoided several hornet nests. The boys continued to shout out words that he couldn’t understand. He saw water in the distance, and changed his direction to try and avoid it, but when he turned, he slipped on some mud and fell to the ground. He was breathing heavily. By the time he stood up, the three boys had surrounded him. The tall ones each grabbed an arm and the short one stepped on his feet. He couldn’t escape them. They began cutting off chunks of his hair. His wavy brown locks were falling to the ground. They were picking up the hair, and putting it in their pockets, stuffing it wherever they it would fit. After removing a sufficient amount of his hair, they ran away, into the woods with their scissors and the hair. Two longs strands remained on his head. He held one in each hand. He didn’t know where to go. He didn’t want to run into anybody else. He didn’t want any more strange people to see him lingering, so he ran towards the water. He arrived at a small, weedy beach, and saw an overturned wooden rowboat with a paddle on top. He flipped it over, slid it along the sand into the water, pushed off and paddled away.

After the film

He felt an overwhelming thirst, but not for water. He was beginning to feel weak. Each time he lifted the paddle and pulled it through the water the action became more and more strenuous. The scar on his chest began to tingle, and then sting, and then pulse, violently. A strange power overtook him. He subconsciously opened the suitcase, pulled out the bottle, popped off the lid and poured the red liquid into his open mouth. It completely satisfied his thirst. It was like a sudden fix. His strokes were becoming stronger. His boat was moving faster. After a number of strokes, he lifted his paddle to pull it through the water but felt no resistance. He was pulling it through air. He looked behind him and saw water pouring off the edge of the earth, and falling until it disappeared. He had slipped off the sea. He was floating through space. He had always pictured that outer space would look like the night sky, all lit up with stars, but it was very dark. There was green dust floating around in the air. As he paddled further away from the Earth, the dust became denser. He could no longer see ahead of him. It had covered his entire body and clung to his boat. He continued to paddle into the dust. He felt the thirst return. He needed another fix. He opened the bottle and swallowed the remaining red liquid. It felt overwhelmingly cold along his throat. He began to shiver. He felt his stomach freeze. The freezing quickly spread throughout his body. He fell back into his boat. He couldn’t move. His limbs had gone numb. His blood stopped pumping. He took one last breath, and shrunk down into a little piece of green dust.

A boy woke up floating in the middle of the ocean. The heat of the sun bore down on his face, and waves rocked him back and forth. The boat he found himself in was shaped like a basket with no handle at the top. He sat up and looked around. Everything was an open plane of blue, and seagulls overhead screeched down at him. He had absolutely no idea how he got to where he was now. In fact, he had absolutely no idea who he was at all. He glanced down, and in his raft there was a paddle and a briefcase. Again, he looked up. This time he saw an island ahead in the distance. Confused, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. He decided to go with his instincts, and began to paddle towards the island. As he paddled, he gained more and more speed. The wind aided him by blowing his boat from behind and effortlessly paddled harder and harder. Nothing came between him and his destination. He was flying along the water, until he finally arrived fifty yards away from the island. Everything was calm, and the waves had decreased significantly. Suddenly, he felt strangely afraid. He did not know whether or not to keep going, yet he was so close. What was stopping him? He looked down at the briefcase in his boat, then back at the island. He decided to continue, and he paddled cautiously towards the island…

The boy slowly paddled away from the island, where he had just witnessed something incredible. He did not understand what had just happened. All he knew was that he just been part of something important, and it was his duty to continue paddling until he reached another island. He looked down again at the briefcase that had caused this magical occurrence. What he had just seen was beyond anything he could have ever imagined, but he realized that this briefcase was more significant than he was. He knew that he had to protect the briefcase, because the traveling medicine show had to happen again, but at a different location. He knew that once he was there, he had to perform the same ritual where he would put the mask in his briefcase onto a bamboo stick by the open flames, so the traveling medicine show could once again come to life. The man in the mask had whispered this into his ear before he disappeared. As he paddled, day turned to night and moonlight glistened on the water. The stars above him made him calm, and he continued to paddle through the serene atmosphere. He finally came to an island. This island looked different. There were no trees on the island, and he could not find a beach. It was surrounded by jagged black rocks and looked menacing. The boy saw it as a challenge…

Aiden jumped out of the car anxiously as he arrived at his summer beach home in Nantucket. He couldn’t wait to step inside the home and breathe in the smell of wildflowers; the houses’ signature scent. His mother had already been there waiting for Aiden and his father to arrive. She had already baked a fresh apple pie and poured fresh lemonade into three glasses. Aiden didn’t say anything when he walked in the large wooden door into the foyer that was filled with antique furniture passed down from his family over generations. He said a quick hello to his mother and took the glass of freshly squeezed lemonade upstairs into his bedroom overlooking the lake. He went over by the day bed and looked out the window at the peaceful water. Aiden knew this summer would be different; this was the summer of his initiation. Every summer since he was the age of seven he had travelled to a small island two hours by canoe from his summer home. His parents always knew that he loved to take out the boat for long periods of time so they never suspected anything. He would go there and watch the “Travelling Medicine Show”, a clan that performed strange routines and dances on the island. Every summer he would spend most afternoons travelling to the island and watch them dance and sing. They were a cult, and had told Aiden that he was able to join their group when he turned twelve. This summer, he was twelve, and couldn’t wait for the moment that he was truly accepted into the “Travelling Medicine Show”. He left his bedroom and decided that this was the moment, and they knew he was coming. Aiden went downstairs and told his parents that he was leaving for a boating trip for the rest of the day. He didn’t take anything with him, just his confidence and excitement. He lifted the boat into the water and paddled the two hours north of his cottage to the unknown island. It was a long journey that required a lot of endurance, but as the sun hit its highest point in the sky, Aiden arrived at the beautiful island. He was finally going to be initiated into the “Travelling Medicine Show”.

Sequel

Aiden trembled as he stepped into his boat a few hours later. He climbed into his canoe and started paddling slowly and unsteadily. He wasn’t aiming for his cottage but he just kept on maneuvering the boat through the calm waters. Aiden felt sick to his stomach thinking about what had just occurred on the island. His initiation was nothing like he thought it would be. All of a sudden there was a man peering down on him wearing a strange mask and all sorts of strange looking creatures were there too. He had just wanted to be accepted into the dance and singing part of the show, not some wacky performance. All of the strange people wearing masks started twirling around him which made his head spin. They took him to places on the island he had never seen before and made him watch strange behavior. The people all wore masks and could be found in the water or on land. There were also some explosions as the leader who Aiden knew from beforehand gave a speech before the act had started. Aiden didn’t even want to think about it whatsoever. He continued to paddle his boat and realized that he was travelling in circles. He was disappointed with how the island had turned differently within one year. Aiden was not expecting this change and he felt stupid for thinking he could ever keep up with a cult like that. As the sun started setting, Aiden decided to start paddling faster and faster in order to be home for dinner. He thought to himself and decided that he would never return back to the island no matter what. He realized that this experience had made him feel threatened by what was occurring on the island and he felt that it was best for him never to return again.

A small plane descended onto a landing strip on a remote island. There were approximately forty passengers on board, one of them a young boy with statuesque features. He had long patches of hair scattered on his head, and sat alone on the plane, seemingly unaccompanied. The passengers, dressed in varying patterns and colors of the same basic Hawaiian top, cargo shorts, and waterproof fanny packs exited the plane single file, snapping pictures frantically as they stepped off the plane. The boy, not amused by the commotion, left the group immediately, wandering away to the plane and into the bushes. He walked further and further away until he was fully submerged into the forest of tropical trees and flowers. Stumbling over logs and stones, the boy clumsily fell into a pile of wilted dandelions, hitting his head on a small tree stump. His eyes hazily closed, and in his mind a million shooting stars and planets swirled about, leaving trails of their marvelous colors in their wake. The sound of rocket engines roaring filled his ears, growing louder and louder until, boom, he opened his eyes. The boy sat up, turning to look at what it was exactly that had knocked him unconscious, and found a large pamphlet sitting in the place the stump once had. It was titled, The Traveling Medicine Show, and boosted a photograph of a ringleader, standing in front of a stormy sky on stilts. The boy folded the pamphlet twice, until it was small enough to fit into his now tattered pocket. He rose to his feet, but was at once on stilts. Glancing from side to side at his now miniature surroundings, the boy lifted one foot after the other, walking back to where the plane had landed. He approached the clearing, but saw no plane, no tourists, and only a one by one foot remnant of the landing strip. The boy gazed over to the waterfront, and saw one small handmade paddleboat resting on the shore. There was a paddle resting on a large stone to the right of it, and though it did not look as streamlined as the plane, it would do in transporting the boy to where he wanted to go. Which essentially was nowhere in particular. He was content to drift from island to island, like one of the Lost Boys, searching for nothing. Though, he did now have a pamphlet to the Traveling Medicine Show, which would serve as perfect entertainment for the boy, and more than that, a target; something to find. He pushed the boat into the water, swiftly hopping inside, dipping his paddle in the water, and taking off into the horizon, headed towards the island about four miles ahead.

The sky faded, becoming more and more grey every time the boy’s paddle hit the gently rolling waves. His wooden boat weaved together with deteriorating bark, logs, and twigs spiraled as it floated away from the sandy shore. His pale face was covered with a blank stare, his pointy features appearing statuesque as the wind moved blew his hair from his face. The sky began to flash black, grey, blue with waves moving through it, black with stars, then a deep purple. The combination of the deep purple sky and dark blue water was intense, as one single star cast an eerie glow across the landscape. Simultaneously, the water and sky began to lighten, until the sky was a light blue, and the water was a beautiful turquoise. The star had moved directly overhead of the now stationary boat, and transformed in front of the unimpressed eyes of the boy, into a paper-mâché, painted globe. One by one the pieces of the boys boat began to unravel. It began from the centre, a small whole, gradually unfolding becoming larger and larger. As the whole reached a width of two feet, the floating globe plunged down to fill it. The weight of the globe only moved the small failing boat underneath the water more speedily, and the boy draped himself overtop of the Earth replica, as he took one last breath in anticipation. Once submerged, the boy exhaled deeply, opening his eyes to watch the bubbles escape his mouth and nose at a rapid pace. One stalled in front of his left eye, growing bigger and bigger, until it was large enough to fit over his head. He gently tapped his head against the bubble, prompting it to engorge his entire face. Within this bubble the boy was able to breathe without difficulty, and open his eyes without the irritation of salt water. He gave one last farewell to the globe and his trusty boat, and then swam south, allowing his stomach to skim the bottom. The sunlight that had been shining through the water, slowly faded away, until it became very dark and cold underneath the surface. A shimmering object caught the boy’s eye, and so he swam quickly towards it, hoping to find some sort of instrument he could use to fix his boat. Instead, he found the Traveling Medicine Show’s medicine case. The metal hardware had caught the little light still passing through the layers and layers of waves, which covered the boy and his bubble. The boy grabbed for the handle of the medicine case, but was instantly swept aside by a current, rocketing him towards the surface. He flew out from the water, his bubble instantly popping, releasing a scream from him so loud the birds a mile a way on the island, flew from their trees, cawing with remarkable force. The boy landed on a raft, alongside two men in masks, playing trumpets. They faced in opposite directions and did not acknowledge the presence of the boy, or of each other. A gurgled voice said, “Here yee, here yee, the Traveling Medicine Show has returned. It is the most spectacular, amazing, wow-inducing show in all the land. Come one, come all, to witness unbelievable magic occur.” The boy looked instantly to the water, and saw the face of the ringleader looking up at him, his image undisturbed by the waves. With a tiny blink of his eyes, the boy was met by a new reflection, his own face, still saying the words of the ringleader. The boy sitting on the raft however, did not utter one word.

The boy was watching the circus show with his younger brother and friends at his town. As he watched the amazing stilt walkers, with such excitement, he got up to quickly go to the washroom. As the boy was getting out of the stall, he found himself being sucked into the toilet, where he shrunk into a very small human form. The boy was confused and intrigued, about where he was magically being taken to.

The boy paddled his boat, paddled, and paddled away, stroking the paddle back and forth with fear and a look of loss in his eyes. He found himself, somewhere where there was no one on the island except him. As he landed on the shore, his little heart was beating so fast, panicking, and not knowing what to do. He explored the island for a while, as he met abnormal creatures that communicated in some sort of unique language. The creatures of this island created their own way of living, their earth, their society, their own ways of fun. These creatures were his creators: he was born , and raised by these deformed , yet funny creatures.

The pockmarked paddle fit perfectly in the Boy’s hand and he got to work without looking back. The sound of the water swooshing echoed through his body in electronic bytes, distorted by the cupcake in his stomach. Nothing was as it had been. The colours around him, though simply variations of the same blue shade, were pixilated and glowing. He continued to paddle.

After a short while, he leaned back against his coconut contraption only to find that a small army of wildebeest were swimming alongside him. Their beady eyes smirked. What? You really thought we’d let you take care of our cupcake without supervision? They swam under the boat, pushing it while he rested. The schedule of wildebeests is not to be undermined.

They traversed hundreds of leagues per second heading closer to the unforgiving heat of the sun. The Boy could barely see, but the cupcake hummed happily within him. It, apparently, was pleased with their direction.

It was as though they had reached an aquatic border: the wildebeest stopped squeaking and the waters lay completely still. Not even a ripple disturbed the tranquility. The Boy’s heart thudded with fear. There is always calm before the storm. And then, of course, the destruction came. The cupcake lay entirely motionless and silent for the first time since its birth while waves ripped mercilessly over their heads. They were sinking with alarming speed into the clutches of a whirlpool, yet the wildebeests looked oddly content. The Boy’s mouth was sealed against sound. The boat flipped once, twice, three hundred times until they reached the ocean floor.

Everything was red, thought the Boy. National Geographic had lied.

The wildebeest shed their masks to reveal smooth, marble-white eggs etched with the most basic of features: two eyes, small lips and a button nose. Within seconds, they had scurried away.

We are in the underworld now, said the cupcake. Its deep voice resonated like molten honey through the Boy’s veins. You have witnessed the blessed Creation. Now you must serve it. Run along.

Deep in the lush forests of Southern California, the Boy swings on a telephone wire, his shiny Blackberry clutched to his ear. Steel skyscrapers shoot up parallel to the genetically modified palm trees, whose fruit is the size of a small car. Above, robotic magpies race towards glimmering treasures and turn somersaults haphazardly mid-swoop. A slow din builds: nimble thumbs scrambling to type, the violent hum of electricity overhead and the ceaseless, indignant squawking of the birds. The conversation section of the orchestra, however, is missing.

But the Boy, now sprawled arrogantly in the plastic bulrushes and pussywillows of a city parkette, can hear only the beats from his personal soundtrack. The notes reach magically his ears, like a special hearing aid that reverberates through the dense matter of his body. With each passing mood, the track listing changes accordingly, from Swedish folk music to blues gospel in a blink-and-you-miss-it transition.

Around him swirl crowds of passers-by, all dressed to the nines in bold metallic spandex and terrifying stilettos. The men swing their briefcases like medieval swords and the orthodontia of small children gleams blindingly in the sunlight, like a predator ready to leap from their mouths into war.

The Boy remains still, lying belly-up in the small patch of procured greenery. His digs his fingers and ankles into the brittle Astroturf and slowly stretches his muscles against the ground. As though in response, the Earth shudders angrily, and then again. The planet has caught their attention; the people are listening now.

The terrible quaking continues, louder and bigger and strong with every tremor until mechanical birds are falling from the sky and telephone poles are crushing even their most loyal customers. The magnetic field swells suddenly too, so that hundreds are held captive as their metallic clothing and dental appliances bind them steadfastly to the steel skyscrapers. In this chaos, only the Boy is unscathed. He understands.

The gentle ocean that had before lain 100 kilometres to the west has grown furiously and is devouring the towns, structures and people in its path. Within minutes, water is lapping at the Boy’s toes, his senses overwhelmed by the saline scent. The Boy looks up; a massive coconut drops gently before his as though by command, split clean through the centre. Gingerly, he climbs in. The music running through his head has stopped and he listens for the next clue.

Jeremy Piven arrived from the sea with ripped clothes and an empty stomach. Despite his needs, for food and clothing, he decided to bury the brief case containing the mask and medicine in the sand immediately after his arrival from that nightmare.

Days later, in the middle of the night while Jeremy slept in his fluffy comforter peacefully, the strange man from the shop and the Island snuck into his room through the window. An entourage of masked creatures followed. Randomly, music begun and the show that Jeremy saw on the Island had begun again. He was quickly woken up sweaty with horror.

“MOM!!!!!” said Jeremy with fear.

No one answered. The show continued. It was a complete Déjà vu for Jeremy. All of the music props and creatures have been seen before. Jeremy was determined to put a stop to this. He grabbed the mask from the creepy man and put it on himself. Now Jeremy was in control.

Immediately after laying the mask on his face, Jeremy felt completely different. His legs stretched as tall as the ceiling, his hair grew long and grey and his voice turned deep and raspy. “I’m not myself,” thought Jeremy. He then felt a force of adrenaline rush through his new elderly body. “The show must go on,” said Jeremy with enthusiasm.

Jeremy marched his neighborhood street, with his entourage behind. One house at a time woke up wondering what was going on outside. Slowly people begun watching “The creation of the world.” Jeremy felt a sense of pride for the joy he was creating amongst his community. Unfortunately, no one was aware that the ringleader was he the whole time. Jeremy would never get praised for what he was doing.

At the end of the show, while Jeremy was bowing, his mask fell off his face. The audience just stared with disappointment as Jeremy’s elderly body transformed back into his scrawny, powerless self. The music and talking stopped. It was dead silent. This made it very obvious to Jeremy that was not wanted anymore, so he begun solemnly walking all by himself back home.

“LET’S GET HIM!” said one of the audience members. Jeremy’s entire community started to forcefully run after him.

Before

Johnny walked down the ravine that was located behind his house. It was cold; yet there was a burning sensation of frustration mixed with fear within him that kept him walking. His parents wouldn’t care, they never did. In fact, Johnny much doubted that they would even notice. After Tommy died, they were simply ghosts preoccupied by their separate lovers and jobs, sheltered by their suburban lifestyle. Papa used to tell Johnny and Tommy the legend of Lost Island. In the good ole’ days, he used to read to them about the secret of the boat on the canal; the old and rickety one that was always in the same place, yet it seemed that it belonged to no one. It was said to guide the neglected to Lost Island, an island imagined by those who were lonely, run by The Superiors. No one knew who exactly these Superiors were or what they looked like, for it was said that no one could return from Lost Island after searching for it. Johnny stumbled upon the boat in the canal and stepped in. As soon as he did this, he felt a higher power encouraging him to paddle. Liking this feeling of purpose, he got in and paddled as fast and hard as he could to Lost Island…

After

Ever since his acceptance ceremony, Johnny felt frightened. Why had he awoken with a “T” on his chest? What were the Superiors and who was this Ring Master everyone worshipped? He knew that he had to leave. He knew because of Papa’s stories that the journey ahead would undoubtedly never lead him back to his old life, yet he embarked. Lost Island was a troubled place of agony and confusion. Johnny felt another burning in his chest, but he did not know if it was because of the “T” carved into it, or his determination. He sat in his boat, and paddled from the Island, but he started hearing a voice in his head urging him to go back. Suddenly, his head felt heavy, and his eyes started to close. When he awoke, his body felt different; as if it was not his. His head felt heavier than it ever had, and he had some trouble breathing. As he touched his face, he discovered that he was wearing what seemed to be an animal mask. When he tried to remove it, it did not budge: it appeared to be glued on, or a part of him. He knew right then that he had to return to the Island. That he was chosen to be a Superior.

Before

Johnny walked down the ravine that was located behind his house. It was cold; yet there was a burning sensation of frustration mixed with fear within him that kept him walking. His parents wouldn’t care, they never did. In fact, Johnny much doubted that they would even notice. After Tommy died, they were simply ghosts preoccupied by their separate lovers and jobs, sheltered by their suburban lifestyle. Papa used to tell Johnny and Tommy the legend of Lost Island. In the good ole’ days, he used to read to them about the secret of the boat on the canal; the old and rickety one that was always in the same place, yet it seemed that it belonged to no one. It was said to guide the neglected to Lost Island, an island imagined by those who were lonely, run by The Superiors. No one knew who exactly these Superiors were or what they looked like, for it was said that no one could return from Lost Island after searching for it. Johnny stumbled upon the boat in the canal and stepped in. As soon as he did this, he felt a higher power encouraging him to paddle. Liking this feeling of purpose, he got in and paddled as fast and hard as he could to Lost Island…

After

Ever since his acceptance ceremony, Johnny felt frightened. Why had he awoken with a “T” on his chest? What were the Superiors and who was this Ring Master everyone worshipped? He knew that he had to leave. He knew because of Papa’s stories that the journey ahead would undoubtedly never lead him back to his old life, yet he embarked. Lost Island was a troubled place of agony and confusion. Johnny felt another burning in his chest, but he did not know if it was because of the “T” carved into it, or his determination. He sat in his boat, and paddled from the Island, but he started hearing a voice in his head urging him to go back. Suddenly, his head felt heavy, and his eyes started to close. When he awoke, his body felt different; as if it was not his. His head felt heavier than it ever had, and he had some trouble breathing. As he touched his face, he discovered that he was wearing what seemed to be an animal mask. When he tried to remove it, it did not budge: it appeared to be glued on, or a part of him. He knew right then that he had to return to the Island. That he was chosen to be a Superior.

Prequel

Sweat was dripping down his face as he ran faster and faster.

“I can’t turn back now,” he thought.

They came in disguise as the “Travelling Medicine Show”, but he knew better than that. Every time they put on a show, the Monsters would capture someone, and turn them into one of them. At least that’s what he called them. No one knew where they came from. Only minutes have passed since their show ended, but they were already rounding people up.

He turned around to see that they seemed to be closing in. he spotted a dock not too far ahead and decided that he would jump in one of the boats and paddle off to sea. He knew a small private island not far away that his dad had brought him too when he was younger. All he had with him was a small suitcase with odd baubles that could help disguise him if he had to blend in. Just before getting into the boat, he tripped and hit his head against the side of the boat.

“Ouch,” croaked Jacob as he awoke. He had been unconscious for the night, and realized he was still on the boat which had miraculously drifted close to a little island. As he stood up on the boat, he realized that he had reached the private island. A surge of relief flooded through his body as his boat washed onto the shore. He thought, “This is it, I’m going to be okay.”

Sequel

The Sun was pelting down on his back as he lay on the sand. Jacob opened one eye to see that everything around him hasn’t changed. His boat was still there, his campfire was still going. Everything remained the same except for him. He felt different. The feeling was neither bad nor good. It was just different. As he slowly stood up, the memories from the night before came rushing back. He was one of them now. He slowly gathered his things and got into his boat. He began paddling back home.

Prequel

I was surrounded by water; with nothing with me other than my suitcase. Around me there was the silence of the ocean and the cawing of the birds. I sat in the boat I had made and thought about my home. The island I had lived my whole life before I decided to go on my adventure. My parents had died when I was only 4; leaving me with no relatives. Memories of my parents consist of them telling me tales and stories. Sitting under the starry night by the fire I made and lying down on the warm sand. The wind whistled while the waves crashed on the shore. We would sing a song together and then begin the story. The magical characters, the beautiful setting and the dangerous but wonderful adventures they had. That was what I loved about these stories. When my parents left, I took over their role and began telling stories to call the young children on the island. Soon, I became known as The Story Teller. The rocks, fire and anything I could find around me influenced my stories. I told stories about animals, wind but the story that was the most popular was the one that my dad had once told. The story about a circus. I had always wondered what it would be like to be a character in one of my stories and one day I decided that I would have find out and have an adventure of my own. I woke up early and I packed only the things I needed and built a boat. I said my goodbyes and rowed away. My adventure was just beginning. I looked back remembering all the memories on that island and feeling sad that I may not ever be able to see my friends again. After rowing for hours, the sun was setting turning the sky colours of purple, pink and orange. I was not sure if I would end up spending the night on the water or if I would be able to find an island. I kept rowing in hopes that I would soon be approaching an island. A few more hours had passed and now the sky was a beautiful shade of blue. I could make out the faint outline of an island in the distant and I knew that I would be able to rest on the warm beaches. I arrived on the shore and made sure that my boat would not get washed away. I wandered around this new island that I had arrived at and I gathered as many sticks and branches as I could. While I was looking for branches, I noticed something on the ground beneath me. It was a mask. It could only cover half of a humans face and had holes for eyes and nostrils. I had never seen a masked that looked like this before so I brought it back with me. I placed the mask gently inside my suitcase and built a fire. I kept the fire burning while I went hunting for food. After feasting on the fish I caught, I began the ritual. The same ritual that was performed with my parents. I hummed the song, cut off a piece of my hair and placed it in the fire. I suddenly remembered that my parents used to place a sacred object in front of the fire so I did the same. I decided that the mask would be my sacred object and it was held up into the ground by a branch. After I finished I fell fast asleep from my tiring day. That night, was when my adventure had really begun. I dreamt of a circus and a man wearing the mask I found. Soon everything I had collected from the other islands had contributed to this dream. I found fabric of all sorts on one island and people of all sorts wearing those fabrics came alive. I left the island with the fabrics and set off to find more exciting things that will add to the bizarre but spectacular story in my dreams.

Sequel

Again, like many of the other times, I rowed away from the island wondering what else was I would find. I was starting to miss all my friends from my home island but I knew that I had to continue on to find the ending of this story. Perhaps I would find coloured stones that could explode when thrown. Or maybe even fossils of animals that would play a new character in my dreams. There were an endless number of possibilities that my story could end in. All I thought about while rowing was the ending and not paying attention to anything that surrounded me. Until I realized that I had hit a rock. I looked around discovering that I had hit a rock on the shore of a new island that I had not yet been to. Excited to see what the island had in store, I hurried out of the boat and begin searching the island immediately. Being in a new and unfamiliar surrounding no longer frightened me but instead I felt welcomed. This island was a small island so I took my time looking around. What surrounded me was the green of trees and the blues of skies peaking through the tree tops. The smell of dirt and leaves filled my nostrils. I was not unfamiliar to this surrounding and smell as I had seen it plenty of times on the other islands I have explored. My eyes wandered through the thick branches and damp dirt in search of something out of the ordinary. I was sure that I travelled all over this island at least twice but nothing could be found unlike on the other islands. Looking disappointed, I travelled back to the main shore where my belongings were. With a sad and disappointed face, I left the island with nothing new in tow. While I rowed, I thought of an explanation to this. All of the other 10 islands I had travelled to had something on it. What was so different about this island? I could not understand why and as the sun set and the skies turned a deep shade of blue, I decided that it had been a long day so I slept in the boat. I woke up early enough to see the sky turn beautiful colours of pink and orange and see the sun rising. I decided that this was a new day so I began rowing again. After thinking a lot on the boat, I thought and learned that maybe I was not supposed to find the ending to my story. That maybe it was supposed to be left up to the imagination of my listeners. I figured out that was what stories were supposed to do. Be interpreted in different ways to different people and maybe the best stories were the ones that were left unfinished so I decided to go back to my home island and share my experience and of course, story to all the islanders.

1.

The boy rows across the ocean for days. Though, he could not recall the events that led to this situation. All he remembers is that he is escaping from something. He looks around the small circular boat, only to find an old suitcase. Upon the sight of it, he has a sudden impulse to find shore. He paddles the little boat aimlessly for days, without rest. His determination pays off when he spots an island in the distance.

2.

The boy, still buoyant in the torn globe, ferociously paddles away from the island. He cringes at the sting in his chest. He was desperate to erase the mark left by the stranger. He hastily rubs at the scar with the salty water, which made the pain worse. He lay on his side, with his arms around his knees, wishing that he could escape this dream-like cycle. In an attempt to break this cycle, he threw the suitcase overboard, incase he would forget again. But he knew very well that it would only start over and over.

Before

Trevor was paddling along the lake in a small wooden boat. He was remembering the last place he visited. The town had been very strange and seemed to have a Renaissance theme. Men wore funny tights and frilly shirts while women wore long, flowy dresses in deep hues of red and majestic purple. Trevor didn’t talk to anybody. He was a quiet boy, but he knew more than what an average person knew without having to ask questions. He browsed the various types of booths in the Renaissance Fair. He stopped by a booth that was unoccupied and looked at the items that were on display. He saw a peculiar looking box that said “Medicine Show”. Trevor became curious about what the Medicine Show might be so he snatched it from the booth before anybody could catch him. He quickly ran back to his boat with the kit in his hand. Suddenly, a voice yelled, “Stop!” A man dressed as a court jester started to run where Trevor was, but Trevor started to get into his boat to paddle away. A crowd of people followed the court jester with looks of horror on their faces. The court jester cried out, “You don’t know what you’re dealing with there!” Trevor ignored him and began paddling away until he reached the bank of a beach.

After

Trevor opened his eyes to see darkness all around him, but he saw lights from above. He looked up and saw about a million stars in the sky. He stared in awe at the stars, and then in an instant, they disappeared. He was sitting in pitch-black darkness and he began to get scared. He wondered where the stars had gone and where he was right now. Suddenly, in the darkness, he heard a creepy voice hiss at him, “This is the newborn. He will be fresh for the boss tomorrow.” Before Trevor could say anything, he felt claw-like hands grabbing at him and dragging him in the sand. Trevor was too scared to protest and let himself be dragged by a pair of strange hands. He couldn’t remember what happened yesterday so he didn’t know how he got himself in this situation.

Finally, after being dragged for about ten minutes, Trevor was placed in a small booth, with purple curtains draped around it for privacy. Trevor trembled with fear and peeked outside to see if he could escape, but he couldn’t see anything because it was pure darkness. He didn’t want to risk getting caught so he stayed inside, looking around the tiny booth. He spotted a bottle that said “Medicine Show” on it and in smaller words “A little goes a long way”. Trevor suddenly felt parched and without thinking, drank the whole bottle. His mind began to spin and he felt so dizzy, but he couldn’t stop himself. Instantly, he found himself back on the bank of the beach in broad daylight. He still had the bottle in his hand. He saw his boat waiting for him and without hesitation, he ran to his boat and began to paddle away as fast as he could. While paddling, he dropped the bottle into the lake and the few drops of red liquid that were left spread into the lake, ready to create yet another disaster.

What happened before the film started?

I am tired of waiting for the dog that will never be bought,

And a blessing whenever I sneeze

Biting my tongue, I cannot speak

I cannot speak of this hurting tongue

Raging hunger within

I take this empty stomach and drift to the island

I feed this empty stomach with fruits of thought,

Crowded thoughts in my big head

That feed the weeds

On this big head

It is no wonder I have trouble doing,

Speaking,

Constructing

Don’t blame me, blame this empty stomach!

The empty stomach cries so much it hurts my ears

I want to eat this, I want to eat that

Let me eat that and I’ll let you paint me again

You can toss me again

Mold me again

Open me up and feed me again

Remember to stitch me up again

But don’t forget to take your hand out

I don’t want to drag you everywhere you know

Bienvenue à l’île!

MOM

Mom?

I mean WOW

Don’t be too happy or I’ll turn you upside down

WOW

What happened after the film ended?

Oh what a generous island that was!

Why I wouldn’t do half the things it has done for me

We should come again, says the satiated stomach

Yes but I do not want to leave, says the legs rooted to the ground

Yes but I cannot stand how fishy it smells here, says the nose

Yes but I am rather dry and I would like to cry, says the eyes

Tears are a cliché you jesters, says the thoughts

Clowns you mean?

That’s what I said, the ones that try to be funny

Life is funny

Death is not

Come back drifting thought and comply with us, we cannot end this without you

I am bloated and I cannot think anymore,

I’d rather chase that runaway dog

Before

Sam went to school, he ate lunch, he paid attention in class and then he went home. He played baseball on Saturdays and did homework on Sundays. Every morning his blue plastic alarm clock would wake him up at 6:45 AM, he would press the snooze button, and his alarm would wake him up again at 6:50 AM. He brushed his teeth for two minutes, washed his face and put on his clothes that he had neatly laid out the night before on his desk chair. He went down the stairs, cracked two eggs into a white bowl, and carefully picked out the broken shell pieces with half an eggshell by capturing them in the shell and sliding them up the rim of the bowl.

Every minute or two he stole a glance at the clock on the wall, ticking away. Tick, tick, tick. Somehow his heart seemed to beat along with the ticking of the clock.

He walked to the ticking, and the beating of his heart on the way to school as it kept his head calm, as calm as crashing waves on a sand beach. Those waves turned into a lull, and his quick, bolstering steps turned into grudging shuffles as he thought about today, the next day, and the next. Would anything new happen today? Maybe and maybe not. Nonetheless Sam ploughed along to school. He ploughed through mathematical equations in his head, through school rules and regulations, through a lecture here a lecture there, and through the snow on the ground.

All this ploughing was making Sam depressed so he thought back to those ocean waves crashing onto that sand beach. He imagined moonlight highlighting the white foam at the top of each wave just before it peeled over. He decided that he’d much rather be on the sand beach then ploughing through the snow, so he stopped ploughing for a moment and closed his eyes.

Sam arrived at the island in a wooden boat with nothing but a wooden box along side of him. He paddled urgently towards the island as if he was looking for something that he thought the island might provide for him. Something to keep him from getting bored he guessed.

After

Sam paddled frantically away from the island as quickly as he could. He didn’t care where he went as long as it was far away from the island. He would have been crying if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes had dried out from shedding too many tears. The image of his mask that he had brought in the wooden box kept flashing through his mind. He had thought that the mask would free him from the world and allow him to be anyone. He thought it would shield him from the world by providing him with something to hide himself with.

Somehow the mask had transformed the island into something wild, full of masked creatures, creatures that shrieked, chuckled, sneered, squealed and cried. As his heart slowed from its rapid tempo and his breathing calmed, Sam began to ponder why he was afraid of the creatures. Well for one thing, they were knew he thought. I’d never seen or heard of them before. They also didn’t look as though they were thinking at all. They just sort of did things. He chuckled to himself when he thought of this. The island had essentially given him what he wanted, something new and exciting. But when he was presented with it, he was frightened. And the creatures, they just seemed like ferocious animals he thought. Although they did look like they were having a lot of fun. They let themselves loose. If they had a curiosity or an impulse, they acted on it. They didn’t doubt themselves, or think about consequences. He remembered the creatures poking him all over, and he realized now it was simply out of curiosity.

Sam discovered that he was the one holding himself back. His fear of novelty and his self doubts had created the boredom in his life. With his heart refreshed, Sam paddled on, comforted by the sound of waves lapping up against his boat.

Dear Producer,

Your film, “Travelling Medicine Show” is uniquely filmed with ambiguity. Interestingly, it can be viewed from many angles and perspectives, and be interpreted with dissimilar meanings. On a personal level, I perceive the production depicting a boy’s quest. As part of the necessity to grow up, the boy arrived to the island in search of the meaning of life and creation. However, he realized the doctor and the creatures he had met are not real; rather, they were part of his dream that he had on the island. Based on my understandings, I developed some ideas of the prequel and sequel of the film.

The boy came from an aboriginal tribe. Through many generations, the people lived peacefully in harmony under the leaderships of their great elders. One day, however, a horrendous disease which had taken the tribe. No one could stop the spreading of the disease, not even their leader. Therefore, the leader declared to pass on his position to the person who can succeed in a quest. The heir must find the cure of the disease and be qualified to guide his or her people with sufficient knowledge about life. One of the boys was desperate to help his people; he packed his belongings and paddled away in search of the answer to the quest.

As for the sequel, the boy left the island with a feeling of complication. As he pondered about his magical dream, he learnt the good and bad about the life. His knowledge matured him and allowed him to appreciate the value of life. Yet, at the same time, he regarded the world around him in another depth. He noticed the flaw of human nature, as well as the destruction and misery that one caused to another. Although the boy was happy about the medicine he found, which enabled him to save many lives and to become the great leader, he understood his sacrifice of his childhood and innocence as a trade off for knowledge.

I know my ideas are illogical but I hope they can help you produce the pre-sequel and sequel of the “Travelling Medicine Show”.

Sincerely,

Rosa Yang

Prequel

It is dark. The boy hears the tireless ocean, the wind rustling through the leaves. An unquenchable thirst burns within him. He opens his eyes, knowing the inevitable.

The water laps softly against the boat as the boy paddles away from the shore. Slowly, the island fades from view, obscured by the thick fog. He pauses, stares at the shadow in the distance, then abruptly turns away.

Weariness pounds at him with every stroke of the paddle. His body aches, pleading for a reprieve. The boy refuses to stop, but is soon overcome with exhaustion. Blessed unconsciousness consumes him.

The afternoon sun burns his skin. He is already awake, contemplating the memories of his dreams. The sudden shrill cry of a gull pierces the air, and the boy is startled out of his thoughts. For the first time, he notices the silhouette of the island against the fog.

The boy drifts towards the island, measuring each stroke of the paddle, feeling the water’s gentle resistance. The island looms over him, mysterious in its isolation.

Sequel

The boy paddles away from the island, exhilarated, burdened with knowledge. His insane laughter rings across the smooth surface of the ocean. The boy paddles without direction, letting the gentle currents direct him where they will.

He is unable to sleep, lest he be overcome with his ruined innocence. The ocean is calm, reflecting the light of the universe. The boy stares at the mirror of water, and finds peace.

The boy has been drifting for hours, days, finding sustenance in knowledge.

Without thought, he opens the suitcase and places the compass on his palm. The needle idles, then, seemingly with a mind of its own, settles into place. The boy follows.

The shadow of an island shimmers on the horizon. It is an immeasurable amount of time before the boy has dragged the boat onto the shore. He takes out the suitcase, holding it protectively against his chest. The compass is cool against his palm as it directs him into the island’s lush jungles.

The shack stands unsteadily, battered by tropical storms. The boy slowly opens the doors, revealing another young boy, sleeping deeply. The boy carefully places the suitcase next to the sleeping boy.

Without a backward glance, the boy paddles towards the horizon.

Before

As I gulped down the red liquid from the medicine bottle once again, I dreaded what I was about to go through. I made my way out to the vast ocean as if I knew where I was going then turned back to look at the shore. When I saw that the island was no longer visible, I knew that enough time had passed for the chemical to kick in.

I was right. Suddenly, a familiar sensation rushed through my body. This feeling was not pleasant though, mind you. I felt as dizzy as ever and I had pins and needles in my entire body but none of this was new to me. My eyes were closed and my body was asleep, floating on a boat in the middle of nowhere, but my mind was wide awake. I tried to get out of this state every time, but I was always helpless against the medicine.

At this time, various scenes from my past started running through my head as usual. It started off with an image of me as a baby, sleeping peacefully in my mother’s arms. Next, I was outside a toyshop with my forehead pressed against the window, staring intently at the new toy car on display and begging my mother to buy it for me. Several other cheery childhood images always followed. This was my favorite part of this whole weird process because it reminded me of the best time of my life. The happiness shattered instantly after, though, as I was forced to see the image of my father walking out the door of our house for the last time, my mother lying lifeless in the middle of the street, strangers grabbing me and taking me to a laboratory, me being strapped down to a bed in a white room with wires attached, scientists performing tests on me, – all painful experiences that I wish I could erase.

As I approached the end of the series of flashbacks, I relived the final image. I was on a beach with the scientists, being told the last few instructions of my upcoming journey. I signed a waiver form, drank the red medicine and went in a boat as instructed. I do not know what made me agree to do everything I was told. Maybe it was because the scientists kept me alive all those years and I felt the need to help them in return, or maybe I wanted to escape the life of being the subject of different experiments everyday at the laboratory – regardless, it was too late to change my decision anyway. As that mental picture slowly faded away, I woke up and arrived at another island.

After

I do not know how many more Traveling Medicine Shows I did and how many more times I saw that set of images until the bottle finally ran out. I had no idea what would come next.

Miraculously, on the trip after I drank the last sip of medicine, I ended back at the very same shore I bid the scientists farewell. A new group of scientists awaited me. They all looked at me astonishingly, almost in disbelief. They took me back to the old laboratory and everyone observed me as if I was an alien. Questions about my journey were asked, tests were performed, but no explanations were provided.

Everyone had left me to rest and I was all alone. I saw countless identical red bottles of medicine lining one of the walls and a file cabinet next to that wall. In the cabinet, there were just as many files as there were bottles, all labeled with the names of different children. At the very bottom of the cabinet, I found a folder with my name on it. In it were a pile of charts and reports, none of which I could understand. I also found a photo of me inside. I looked exactly the way I did now. There were no changes in my young face, my pale body, or even the large scar across my chest. I looked closer and saw that the picture was dated January 3, 1959. A calendar on a nearby desk said it was now February 13, 2009.

Before the movie

Fire.

Pain. Loss.

Loner. Bald. Victim.

Magic Store. Discovery. Curiosity.

Cruise Ship. Storm. Tsunami? Sinking.

Dinghy. Paddle. Exhaustion. Island. Sand. Relief.

NON-BELIEVER?

It all started with a fire. Lives close to the boy were lost. Images of fires now haunt him. He lost his hair, becoming a victim of bullying. Determined to never be a victim again, he vowed that he wouldn’t cut his hair.

The day before he was sent on a cruise ship to go live with his aunt, he went to a magic store. Scouring every dusty corner, he came upon a briefcase that said “The Travelling Medicine Show” on it. He went to the counter to pay for it, but the cashier gave it to him for free. “This ol’ thing has been sitting around here for years, and there’s nothing magical about it. You can have it for free for all I care.” The boy took it, thinking he could just use it to keep his belongings in it.

There was a huge storm the day the boy went on the cruise ship. There was thunder and lightning, and the ocean was angry. A huge wave came, and the boat tipped over. Luckily, the boy found a dinghy that he and nine others could paddle away in. The only belonging he had was the Travelling Medicine Show briefcase, because his suitcases had been stored below the deck. One by one, each of the nine other passengers of the dinghy fell overboard. It seemed as though there was a force watching over the boy.

Finally, after many hours, the boy saw an island on the horizon. Determined to make it there, he continued paddling with all his might. He was filled with relief when he reached the soft white sand. A thought crossed his mind that the briefcase might have had something to do with his good fortune, but he shook the thought away. He didn’t believe in guardian angels ever since that fateful day when the fire occurred. One could call him a non-believer. That was about to change.

After the movie

From an innocent child to the new master, the chosen one paddled away to the land of the Travelling Medicine Show where anything goes.

Animals roam, medicines bloom, creatures lurk.

They prepare to take over the non-believers.

The boy rounds up all the beings to plan their attack.

They practice for their next show, which will be shown to the world.

There is excitement in the air at the prospect of having people believe in magic and spirits once again.

Pop, vanish, explode.

Erupt, transform, fly.

Grow, stretch, crackle.

“It’s time for the world to see that the unbelievable truly exists!” the boy shouted to everyone through his megaphone.

The army got into their war canoes and paddled to reality.

A crowd gathered on the shores to watch their entrance.

Adults cried, children squealed, people tried to hide but found that they could not look away.

There was no escaping the trance that they were in.

The crowd watched the impossible take place.

They saw the creatures that did not exist.

They saw things vanish into thin air.

They saw unimaginable transformations take place.

There were believers in the world once again.

Here we all are. Just like every single Saturday night. Why? To drink our absolut vodka and hook up with girls. Oh yea, the girls. And smoke weed. Even the people whose parents would never suspect their perfect, little, angle child to smoke weed, even these people smoke at parties like this. . 1 toke, 2 toke, I toke, you toke. Back into the party. Ready to party. Eye spy with my little eye Scarlet. Eye spy with my little that stone cold fox. I push one of my ratty little dreds out of my eye. I’m heading over. We’re leaving? Huh…okay. Someone has called a cab…I can’t get in the cab. No, guys, I can’t get in the cab. Stay. Here. She is rubbing my back, its not helping. Smothered. I’m being smothered. I need everything single person who is within 50 centimetres from my suffocating body to just step away and LEAVE ME ALONE. I get up to go for a walk just to make me feel better. WHY ISNT IT WORKING? Step, step, step, step, paddle, step. It’s warped, tunnel vision. Step, step, paddle, step, paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle…

…Paddle, paddle, paddle, paddle, step, step, paddle, paddle, step, paddle, step, step, step. We aren’t at the party anymore. Where are we? Oh, yea, the subway. It’s easy to tell because of the tiles, the irritating screech, and the barely mediocre sound of a saxophone ringing through my ears and head. Panting, breathing so heavily I’m scarred that I might die this very second. Any moment now. It’s coming. I knew it was going to come but I was hoping I would be wrong for just once in my life. Just a few minutes. Please just hold out for a few minutes…nope. Projectile. Everywhere. She is pulling me over to the garbage. Lumpy, dirty, stinging my throat, my long dreadlocks are being pulled back into one of those girly elastic bands. This is the worst feeling in the whole entire world, the whole entire universe. I wish it would just stop. PLEASE JUST MAKE IT-it’s over, it is done. The subway pulls up and a group of about five of us gets into the subway car. I look around me to see the people that I have ended up with. Okay, at least I have some buddies to get home with…okay… SHE IS HERE? Oh man, that’s embarrassing. Now I’m just going to be known to here as the ‘green out boy’ for the rest of my life…

Before:

“Mr. Wilson, its time for bed,” the nurse insisted.

“What time is it,” he replied.

“Nine o’clock sir”
“What did you say my name was?”

“Mr. Wilson, Sir”

“What time is it?”

“Nine o’clock sir, it’s time for you to take your pills and sleep”

“Where am I?”

“You’re in Manhattan’s Retirement home, please sir; you must take your pills.”

Mr. Wilson finally swallowed his pills but continued to look lost and perplexed. Feeling guilt for showing no kindness, the nurse decided to patiently explain to the old man the circumstances which he was under. She figured if she could summarize his life within a few words, maybe he would not feel so empty and lifeless. She told him his age, seventy-five years, and told him details about his family and job. He was at one point New York’s most prestigious lawyer and has four kids who all lead prestigious lives in Europe. She told him they loved him dearly and were anxiously reviewing their busy schedules, desperate to find an available time to fly in and visit. She reckoned these lies were harmless, since he would not be able to recall any of this information the next morning. In truth his four kids had not bothered visiting their father in the past three years. Meanwhile, the old man listened carefully to a stranger recite his past for him. He appreciated the young lady’s effort to make him feel more comfortable and appreciated her soothing voice even more as she did so. He used her soft mellow voice to fall asleep and hoped his dreams could take him far away from the empty room he had been placed in. He hoped his dreams would reveal to him a piece of his past, for him to have a visual next to the descriptions the young nurse had given him. He hoped his dreams could show him his greatest desires. Maybe then, he would understand what type of person he was, what his personality was like. He hoped his dreams could show him a glimpse of his life at its best. By the end of that thought, he slowly fell into a deep sleep and within minutes, the younger Mr. Wilson entered an adventurous journey. In his dream, he had never felt so intact with his identity, with his feelings and thoughts and he had never felt so free in a long, long time.

After:

After visiting the island, Mr. Wilson enters his tiny craft yet again and sails into the ocean. He paddles, not knowing in which direction, not knowing where he will sail next, and not knowing if he will ever reach another shore again. Regardless, he paddles for what could have been hours, days or maybe even months, rarely stopping to take a break. It felt satisfying to him to use his new strong body and restless fast-beating heart.

It was only when he was growing slightly tired, did he reach the shore of another island. Almost instantly, he knew it wasn’t the same one as before. The trees were different, the scent was different, and strangely enough, the island felt like home. He could not recall the feeling in order to compare this sensation to, but the island, the vibe, the warmth it gave him; it was one he thinks he remembers feeling in the past.

Deep in thought, Wilson pulled his craft farther down the shore and fell backwards on the beach like he had done last time. He lay there, waiting for someone to approach him, hoping this time it would be a familiar face. Although he could not remember anyone in his life, he felt confident that if he saw a loved one, his instincts would make the connection. So he lay there, for hours on end watching the blue sky gradually being replaced with sheer blackness. After a while, he could no longer ignore his stomachs desperate cry for food and so he decided to explore the forest. As he walked towards the centre of the island, he began to notice a haze of smoke rising in the air meters away from where he stood. Eager to see what was causing the smoke, he picked up his pace and ran towards the area, only to stop meters away. He stood there motionless, staring at the five humans who were seated around a fire. He observed each and every distinct feature on their faces; their gestures, their voices, and anything else that could help him identify them. Then it hit him all at once. His mind ran through flashbacks, overwhelming him with happiness. He looked into the eyes of the four adults, who somehow still appeared to him as kids, and recalled their birthdays, graduations, and weddings. He looked into the eyes of the elegant, beautiful women sitting next to them, and felt his passionate love for her, and remembered his foolish first date, his first kiss, and his wedding day so many years back. Wilson closed his eyes, making it easier to see each scene that flashed through his mind. When he opened them again, he noticed that they had all been watching him.

Slowly, his youngest daughter said, “We have been waiting for you.”

Mr. Wilson joined his family, sitting silently for a while, and then breaking into tears for he knew the miracle that had been granted to him. As each hour passed, they grew closer and closer to each other. They sat around the fire, talking endlessly about everything that he had missed in the past three years. Soon, one after one, each person quietly left the circle until it was only Mr. Wilson and his wife.

“Why did everyone leave?” Mr. Wilson demanded an answer from his wife.

“Because it’s time, but at least you are now leaving knowing who you are,” she gently stroked the side of her husband’s face as she got up, and left.

Mr. Wilson sat for a few minutes and realized what she meant. She was right; it was time. After giving his wife one final kiss goodbye, he got up, took his craft and entered the ocean again. This time, he would not reach another shore. In fact, Mr. Wilson will never wake up from this long, fulfilling dream. The image of the endless sea and the breathtaking horizon is the last memory he will get to keep.

And in the beginning…

I was born eleven years, forty-seven days, and twelve minutes ago, in a jungle made

of concrete, reflective glass, and steel. My house had white siding, black shudders,

and a red door. There was an oak tree in the front with a tire swing that I stayed

far away from. I had a golden retriever, Mozart, and my younger sister Elizabeth had

a fish. I can’t remember its name.

My mother used the word comfortable to describe our ‘style of life’. If anyone had

ever taken the time to ask me, I would have preferred to describe it as abominable.

Like the snowman.

Anyway, (I would like to take this time to insert a side note, regarding the fact

that anyways is most certainly not a word in the English language, and the next time

I hear anyone say that damned imaginary word, I will use my sharpened HB 2 pencil to

pierce my eardrums. I promise.) I have decided to go live with my friend Jenette. I

like Jenette because her name is not spelt like every other Jeanette on the planet.

Also because she is imaginary which gives me the ability to control her.

Jenette does not live in a house with white siding, dark hardwood floors, home

cooked meals, tire swings, antiques, and the word ‘comfortable’. She lives in a real

jungle. One made of ants, giant leaves, and salt water. I enjoy salt water very

much, and will swallow quite a lot upon my arrival.

I would leave the next morning. I mentally packed all my most important belongings;

mental pictures and whatnot, and went to sleep on my red fire truck sheets. Fire

trucks save people, so they make my room a pretty safe place to be.

I met Jenette on the beach, and she told me to climb into a specially fashioned

boat; it wouldn’t sink. So I did. Jenette told me to paddle until I reached the

other shore. I couldn’t see it, but when I got tired of paddling, I knew it would be

there. So I did. Jenette told me to lie down and thank her for my journey when I

arrived. So I did. And now there’s sand stuck in my hair. It’s itchy.

But only after…

My head is a place where,

It’s starting

Ideas come in and out,

It’s difficult to control

And I think,

I’m lost

About my life,

It’s empty

My experiences,

Something’s missing

Places I’ve been.

Then sometimes,

Where am I going

I wonder,

There’s sand here

About whether or not

It’s itchy

This is real.

This place,

Confusion

I remember,

Stop eating me

I’ve been here,

You’re wrong

Please stop.

I have,

You can’t tell them

been here.

Don’t do it

And I know,

This is going to hurt

That this might hurt.

But sometimes,

Where are you going

I start to wonder,

There’s sand here

About whether or not,

It stings

This is real.

This is real.

This is real.

As the boy continues to paddle away from the island, he hears sounds of hands clapping, only they were not from the island behind, but echoes from a distance before him. With every clap, there is a stinging pain from the wound on his chest. The boy clasps his hands over his ears as the unbearable pain escalates with the steady clapping. He drops his oar, unable to sit straight and unlatches the suitcase. With his trembling hands, he brings the mask up to his face and ties it on. Almost immediately, he lets out a sigh of relief. No longer able to hear the clapping, he leaves the mask on and picks up his oar to paddle again.

It rains for five consecutive days, and on the foggy morning of the sixth, everything is silent. The canoe sits motionless in the murky blue water. The boy, who is drained of energy, holds the edges of the canoe to steady his numb body. Through the slits of his merely closed eyes, he sees a faint outline of a figure in the approximate direction that the clapping sound had come from. The figure slowly drifts closer and it is only until 7 hours has past, is the boy able to distinguish that the figure is another boy who is identical in structure. Similarly, the stranger is also wearing a mask and has chunks of his hair cut off at different lengths. As the other canoe approaches, the boy attempts to greet the stranger but instead says, “Ladies and gentlemen!” Puzzled by what has just happened, he tries to welcome the mysterious boy again, but uncontrollably repeats the same phrase.

The stranger remains silent with an emotionless expression and calmly opens his suitcase. Inside, there is a bottle of blue medicine. The stranger uncorks the bottle and pours the liquid into the water. Suddenly, the water around him starts to bubbles and rats appear out of nowhere. The stranger smirks and continues pouring the rest of the blue medicine. As if they had been energized by the additional liquid, the rats propelled themselves rapidly using their tails towards the boy’s canoe. Horrified by the swimming rats, the boy follows the actions of the stranger, taking out his own bottle of medicine from his suitcase and emptying the red substance into the water. Unfortunately, the red medicine does not destroy the rats completely, but burns the hair off of their bodies. The hairless rats, now on the canoe bite on the boy’s hands and feet. In extreme agony, the boy screams as the rats drag him down the bottomless ocean.

With no oxygen for nearly four minutes, the boy is near death. He opens his eyes, for what he knows is his last time and sees a distorted image of two beautiful women with long, brown, braided hair. Together, they are painting a massive, globe-like object in the water. Oddly, they paint the spherical object in a vivid red colour, every brushstroke making the object glow brighter. As the boy sinks closer and closer to the glowing object, he feels an uncomfortable amount of heat radiating from it. He is no longer able to feel his body and the rats disappear. He drifts into the enormous burning object as he closes his eyes. He hears sounds of hands clapping and then the muffled words, “Ladies and gentlemen,” and disappears into the darkness.

Prequel to the Travelling Medicine Show

He lies on the sand, listening to the rushing waves and thinking of possible adventures. A packed suitcase lies beside him. He is tired of simply imagining his voyages. He wants a real adventure, one where he can explore a place not yet discovered, like Captain Muntz does in his favourite storybook. He rolls onto his stomach and begins sketching an imaginary map in the sand. In a matter of seconds, he gives up and rolls on his back again. The sun has set and the boy is alone. He stares into the dark, blue ocean and sees a hairy man in a canoe paddling ashore. The man finally reaches the shore and gets out of his canoe to bring a few pieces of equipment back into his car. The boy knows it is his time to explore. He grabs the handles of his brown, tattered suitcase and sprints towards the canoe. He pushes the canoe in the water before jumping in. The boy picks up the oar and paddles intensely for five minutes to ensure he is not seen by the man. When all that surrounds him is water, he opens his suitcase and takes out a pink cupcake. He takes a bite. The boy smiles from the sweetness of the icing and from the excitement of his first journey.

Part -1

And there was LIGHT.

The boy sits in an empty, white room. He’s thought to be a blank canvas with nothing on his mind, waiting for others to guise him, yet he has a mind of his own and ponders… against all odds.

Outside, the world is in chaos. Its people are kept in denial and it is constituted by ignorance.

It is his 17^th birthday, the boy is confused as adulthood was supposed to be about freedom and choice, yet the Book given to him tells him to give up imagination and live without questions. He was to be judged and determined by others. Being creative was his favourite gift as it gave him the chance to do what he wanted, without question, without limits; to live sans frontière.

As a youngster he had always wanted to grow up and become an adult. He thought about all the dreams he had as a child. Then he remembered…

A couple years ago, he had picked up a bottle which contained a map along the beaches. He had always wondered what was beyond Home and the map gave him a clear route to an island. The potential and possibility of the island gave his mind a chance to wander wherever it took him. He had always wanted to go there and see for himself what the island had to offer.

He had thought about this for a long time, the idea could work, the idea would work. He would steal the emergency boat, bringing with him the briefcase given to him for his birthday and stow away onto the island mapped out. It would mean giving up all that he had, but he was willing to, if it meant that he didn’t have to live blindly like the rest of the people.

With an open heart the boy arrives upon the island willing to explore life that the others have forgone.

He arrives…destined to know.

Part 2

And the boy returns.

He had not been gone for so long, after all. Though the rowing took a lot of effort and the trip seemed like an eternity he was back. He was shocked but satisfied. The island had broadened his mind. And he had acquired a new knowledge.

Home seemed different. Everything came to him in a new perspective. Although things looked the same, there was a different vibe to it all. He couldn’t precisely pinpoint what was different, or rather wrong, but he knew something had changed.

Then he saw the adults. Everyone was masked with phony smiles, even without their appearance; there was a difference in everyone’s aura. But was this what everyone really was? His experience on the island gave him a new point of view. Is that what he would’ve become if not for his detour? He couldn’t stop picturing himself as a masked man… He thought to himself that he didn’t ever want to be limited like that, to have a mask to determine who he was and would be. He promised himself, he refused to.

As time passed, the boy grew up. He faced trials, tests, and deceits in the world of the masked adults. Every once in a while he would remember Creation on the island, but as he spent more time in their world and less in his own, it became harder to remember.

Then one day he looked into a mirror and saw his own reflection…he had become masked as well. He brought his hands to the back of his head but felt no end to the mask…

BEFORE

So I paddled,

In search for self

In search of discovery

I knew,

Self was confusing

Self was tiring

Self scared me.

I had no self.

Having no self,

I guess it was weird

Queer, unusual.

Gives me a ticklish feeling.

I tried to think of stuff,

Weird stuff.

So I paddled.

My breath hiccupping faster,

Every stroke pushing my muscles

My eyes sore from the tearing light

My hands bleeding from holding the wood too tight.

Self was indeed a process to find.

I hoped it was worth it,

I really did.

This would be a waste then,

I don’t like to waste.

I wasted my life before,

Plenty of times.

From arguments, fights, detentions, aimless homework

That’s why I ran

I mean I don’t know why I ran,

I just did.

And now, I paddle

To find myself

To find self in its clearest, tangible form.

Hopefully it will be worth it

Because I don’t like to waste

And I’ve wasted too much already.

AFTER

It wasn’t a waste,

Atleast I didn’t think it was.

You may say it was,

But I don’t,

And I’m what matters.

It was interesting,

If that’s what you would call it.

Factorial, quizzical, mesmerizing

All the good stuff.

But not a waste.

I learned a lot really

I did.

It was one hell of a journey

If you think it that way

It was short

But long

I met people there

I don’t know where I landed

I just found sand

So I stopped

And then I met people

I discovered myself

Who I am

Where I came from

It was a miracle,

It was painful.

But I don’t regret being alive,

I don’t.

It’s good to be alive.

So now, after I discovered

After I feel enlightened.

I guess I’m leaving

Paddling, in the tearing sun.

It’ll be alright though

I understand now.

Life.

And I paddle,

Continuing through life, paddling to wherever it takes me

I’ll be alright.

Before: This is all my brother’s fault. It’s because of him that I’m sitting in a stupid, little boat with one stupid, lonely paddle in the middle of this stupid, godforsaken ocean with a compass, a map, a box of stuff and a list of very detailed instructions. Thanks bro, you’re the best. It was him who brainwashed me at the tender age of eleven into becoming a member of the “Theatre Fun!” club at school, which, by the way, isn’t even what the club is called – if you could even call it a club. I don’t know what it is and I certainly don’t know what it’s really called… But that’s the name he told me and that’s the name he told my parents and we were all dumb enough to believe him. I guess it was fun for the first few months. I mean, I got to do arts and crafts and learn how to build a fire and spend time outside and back then (when I was eleven) I loved spending loads of time outside. I learned a few songs too but my brother told me to never sing these songs outside of the “Theatre Fun!” club so I didn’t. Even though that’s not what the club is called. Then my brother started wearing all these weird clothes. He even started wearing makeup! My parents told me they thought he was a homosexual – my brother. I told them they were wrong because I knew the truth – it was “Theatre Fun!” that was making him wear those funny clothes and put on strange makeup. And then, after about a year of me being a loyal member, they tried to get me to start wearing all those funny clothes and put on strange makeup but I didn’t want to! It was because of this that I decided I wanted to leave the club. Only my brother wouldn’t let me. He said I hadn’t been “initiated” yet. I asked him what “initiated” was and he told me not to worry. He said it would be fun and that I’d get to build a fire and spend time outside so then I got really excited to be initiated! On the day of my initiation, my brother took me to the docks where we met the leader of “Theatre Fun!” – Cousin Trevor. Cousin Trevor’s a bit of an odd-ball. He told me I was to go on a “journey” across the seven seas to find “The Cure.” I looked at my brother because when he was explaining what initiation meant he didn’t say anything about journeying across seven seas and I was beginning to get a little worried because I wasn’t at all prepared for a journey. But before I could say anything Cousin Trevor lifted me up, dunked me in the water, dropped me in the tiniest boat you’ll ever see and handed me a paddle. As he pushed me of he said to me, “good luck, my kin” in a weird voice and as I was about to reply to him he ran away and to my brother with him. I was so dumbfounded that I sat in that boat for about two hours not doing anything productive and then I fell asleep. When I woke up I got really mad at my brother for making me do all this and that’s how I got here. Did I mention my pant legs are soaked because the stupid little boat isn’t very good at being a boat? I mean, the boat’s been slowly sinking this whole time. I have no idea where I am. I’m hungry. Never listen to your older brother – they don’t always know what’s best for you.

After: I have a bottle in my hands. It’s heavy, it’s full. The liquid is red. The liquid is thick. The label makes no sense. The people from the island gave it to me and told me to go home, so that’s what I’m doing, I’m going home. I think I’ve finished being initiated which is a good thing because I am very hungry and I really want to punch my brother in the face for making me do all this in the first place. I’m finding it very difficult to resist my temptation to open the bottle and try what’s inside it… but the little voice at the back of my head says that’s probably a bad idea. But I hardly ever listen to the little voice at the back of my head so I unscrew the cap. Man, it’s screwed on tightly. I can’t open it. I put it in the ocean to see if that will help but it doesn’t. I try and open it with my teeth but that doesn’t work either. I start to angrily slam it against the side of the boat which makes the boat move side to side and I think I’m going to fall out so I stop doing that. Then, I take the paddle and pry the bottle open. The cap flies off and lands somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Great, now I have no cap. I sniff the contents of the bottle. They smell absolutely revolting. I gag. I sit there in the boat holding the bottle in front of me trying to make sense of the label while the current pushes me along. After drifting for about an hour I decide to try some of the liquid. I plug my nose because I figure that if it smelled revolting it’ll probably taste revolting as well. I swallow a mouthful of the stuff and it’s so thick that I gag again. As I gag, I accidentally spill some of the liquid into the boat. The liquid starts burning a hole in the boat. The liquid starts burning a hole in the boat. My first reaction is that whatever has just burned a hole in the boat is now currently inside my stomach and will most likely burn a hole through that too. My second reaction is that the boat that was already sinking slowly now has a hole in it, the size of a teacup, which is filling up with water very fast. I frantically open the box of stuff to see if there’s anything inside that will clog the hole but there isn’t. I take out the list of detailed instructions to see if there’s anything that will help me but there isn’t. I start to feel funny. My stomach is hurting and my vision goes sort of blurry. Then my head starts to hurt so badly that I can feel my pulse in my temple and I decide to lie down. I forget that there’s a whole in the boat and that I’m sinking, I need to lie down. When I feel water on my face I start to panic. The entire boat has sunk and I am now floating in the middle of the ocean. I look to my right and see the box of stuff floating beside me so I grab it and hold on to it and begin to drift again. I don’t do much seeing as I still feel very funny from that weird red stuff. Where did that red stuff go anyways? Oh well, it’s probably not important. I drift for hours and I go in and out of consciousness. Eventually, I wash up on the beach and who is standing there but my brother and Cousin Trevor. Lady luck was certainly on my side today. I feel a bit better now. Cousin Trevor bends down and asks me where “The Cure” is. I ask him what “The Cure” is. I don’t remember bringing “The Cure” home with me. He says it’s a bottle of red liquid and then everything clicks into place and I realize that I don’t have what he wants. Maybe they’ll kick me out of “Theatre Fun!” now. I didn’t want to be in it anyways.

Before the film

The boy woke up. He was on a beach and the palm trees were gently swaying in the wind. As he stood up, he examined his surroundings, noticing a strange chest beside him. Carefully, he unlatched the locks on the box, revealing an old mask. The boy picked up the mask and brushed off some sand. It had been the mystery man’s mask. It was the mystery man who had saved him. It was the man who could perform miracles. And a mask was all that he had left to remember him by. The boy was gracious for this mystery man because he had saved him countless times. Every time he encountered danger, the man had been there to guide and aid him. Yet, the boy had no idea who he was or where he came from. The boy let out a sigh. He placed the mask into the chest and carried it towards his wooden raft by the sea. The boy lowered the chest onto the raft and pushed it into the shallow water. With one forceful leap, he landed on the raft and slowly drifted out into the open waters. However, the boy did not know where he was heading. He wanted to arrive at his destination, but he did not know where the destination was. Before long, a thunder storm erupted. Buckets of water poured from the sky and the flashes of thunder illuminated the night. The large waves knocked the boy off his raft and filled his mouth with salty water. Clutching only onto the wooden chest, he was tossed and turned in the middle of the ocean and all he could hear was the earsplitting thumping of thunder. Exhausted, his vision became blurry and the world seemed to be spiraling downwards. “This is it,” the boy thought, as he fell unconscious.

After the film

The boy woke up. He was on a beach and the palm trees were gently swaying in the wind. As he stood up, he examined his surroundings, noticing a strange chest beside him. Carefully, he unlatched the locks on the box. Inside the box were an old mask and a strange bottle of miraculous medicine. These items belonged to mystery man. It was the man who could perform miracles. It was the mystery man who had, once again, saved him from peril. Only this time, the man had saved the boy from the evil creatures that showed him a corrupted, artificial reality and attempted to control him. “Who is this bizarre man?” thought the boy, scratching his head. The boy let out a sigh. He placed the mask and bottle of medicine into the chest and carried it towards his wooden raft by the sea. The boy lowered the chest onto the raft and pushed it into the shallow water. With one forceful leap, he landed on the raft and slowly drifted out into the open waters. However, the boy did not know where he was heading. He wanted to arrive at his destination, but he did not know where the destination was. Using his hands, the boy paddled. Stroke, stroke, stroke. And the boy continued to paddle out into the ocean of life.

The blue is the place where the sky and sea mingle.

The boy is not a boy when he is in the blue; he is an old man.

As an old man he does not look wise or weathered with knowledge.

He only looks weathered by the burden of coming from nowhere.

His eyes are lined with innocence and a likable ignorance.

This old man is in the half-sphere, the same one the boy eventually leaves the island with, and is floating with nothing in his vessel.

There are no living things he encounters and no sound but the waves.

As he is drifting, subject to the forces of the waves, he sees a bottle floating by.

He reaches towards the bottle and in doing so, upsets the balance of his vessel.

He is now floating in a different direction.

The light is changing now; it is filling the air with morning hues.

As the reverse sunrise occurs, the sky fades from light to dark.

Now the old man is in darkness.

He lets out a cry, like that of a baby.

His voice is full of longing but with no particular preference.

Placing the bottle in his vessel, he allows his arm to trail through the sea.

Suddenly sensing other creatures in his presence, the old man withdraws his arm from the sea.

As the moon comes up, he sees strange creatures swimming around him, like the ones he will meet on the island.

The creatures, or artists, are playing and chatting amongst themselves, in a way that the old man does not understand.

The artists move the waves in a way that propels the old man and his vessel towards a common direction.

The old man laughs for the first time, at something silly the artists were doing.

He touches his face to feel the lines.

His hair is getting darker, darkening from white to a sandy brown.

He trails his hand in the water once more to join in on the fun the artists were having.

His hand comes in contact with something and he draws it out of the water and puts it inside the bottle in his vessel.

The old man is no longer an old man but a middle aged man.

Splashing the artists around him, his hand finds more things in the water, all of which he puts into the bottle.

Through the darkness and in the midst of strange creatures, the now middle aged man becomes younger.

His weathered lines on his face become smooth and his back straight.

Screwing the cap back on the bottle and shaking it, he watches the darkness fade and the sky turn a brilliant red, signifying a sunset.

The young boy spends the day drifting on the waves set by the artists.

He sees an island.

AFTER leaving the island, the boy seeks a new land to explore.

He is filled with sadness as he is leaving the place where he came to understand his creation.

As his vessel floats on the waves, he falls into a delirious dream.

He dreams of getting lost in the darkness and when he finds light, it is in the form of deep purple ways stained with black.

The boy feels his way around the purple ways and sees many archways, all portals to different lands.

Opportunity’s doors are all closed at the moment.

The place he is in gets lighter and he realizes he is surrounded by people who look like him.

People are strewn on the floor and not blood, but paint and clay.

In a panic, the boy searches for an open archway.

In spotting one, he runs through it.

He is now in a land of hills and trees.

There is conflict going on and he is rushed upon a horse and is chased by arrows and spears into the hills.

With a band of new friends on horses who were also chased, the boy now plods along on his horse.

He watches the silky coat of the horse gleam and breathes in the fresh air of the hills.

The hills narrow into a path and soon the boy and his friends are plodding along single file.

Eventually, the grassy path turns into earth, then round pebbles.

The path leads the boy and his friends to a house.

It looks like a grandmother’s house.

They dismount their horses and ring the doorbell.

The house is a pale yellow with bluebell shutters.

The hedges are trimmed and a smell of fresh cookies wafts out the French windows.

The boy and his friends open the unanswered door and walk inside.

The door closes and locks.

After gathering their bearings, the boy and his friends explore the house.

Messages of warmth printed on tiles decorate the walls.

The furniture is covered in plastic but there is no grandmother in sight.

The house is comfortable and the boy and his friends decide to settle in and live there for the rest of their lives.

Days become years in the comfortable house that does not let them leave.

Soon the boy’s friends begin to disappear but that does not bother him.

He is so comfortable.

He begins to feel uncomfortable the next day.

His emotion builds up in a rage as he tries to find a way out of the house.

He is the only one left.

The boy tears the house apart trying to find a way out of the comfortable and mundane.

He breaks through the front door that was so contently locked for so long.

He is outside now and a sea breeze greets him.

The house the boy came out of is on a wooden boat and is floating towards an island.

The boy wakes up from this dream and sees his vessel floating towards an unknown land.

Prologue

He was most definitely not your typical teenager. A prodigy, yet a social outcast. He excelled in all that he attempted, but saw no purpose to it all. Life was nothing more than a meaningless jumble of events. For this reason, he thought human interaction was unnecessary and preferred the company of himself. Eventually, it got to the point where he was about to snap, and needed to get away from the world. It was at this point that he set out on a journey, a quest. Knowing not his destination, nor his goal, he ventured out, armed with nothing more than a briefcase. After the passing of what felt like the longest days of his life, he arrived at an island.

Epilogue

He couldn’t tell if the events which just transpired were real or merely the creations of his imagination. He did, however, note that it does not make a difference, because his experience is now a part of him, and will be forever. However, when he tried to recall certain details of the proceedings, he found that he could only draw blanks, as though it had been wiped from his memory. He seemed to be able to remember these strange beings hurting him, perhaps draining out his knowledge. Perhaps he had been enlightened, but it had been too much for him. Perhaps he simply wasn’t meant to know. What he did know was that he suddenly missed his old life. Although he realized that it was highly improbable for him to return to his home, he figured he could learn more wherever he ended up, and perhaps his thirst would be quenched, and that would be when he could return home satisfied. Even if he were to pass away during his journey, he took comfort in the fact that, in death, he might find what he is searching for. When he arrived at the island, he had nothing but his briefcase and the clothes on his back, with little sense of direction, and as he left, he had nothing tangible to show for his experience, but had found something to occupy himself with in life

The boy came paddling on a lousy boat, propelled by the rolling momentum of the waves. The day was clear and rather calm; enough that the water felt like it was a lake rather than the sea. He had come a long way from another island, floating miles and miles. Seeing the dry and empty beach was like a gift from God.

The boy did have a map, but whether he was navigating properly or not, he wasn’t sure. There was even the slight possibility that the map described some other distant land and the island he ended up on was purely by chance.

The boy was lost. He knew what he was doing, but he was lost. He had a suitcase filled with odd items that he carried around as he wandered from island to island. He knew what the items were for, or he thought he did, but still, each time he opened the suitcase, his mind went blank.

And that man whom he met every time he visited the island. It was as if he was unconsciously following that man. Clad in a magician’s tuxedo, he had a mysterious appeal to others. Everyone who stumbled on to the island could not help but to follow him. The boy too was helpless.

Everyone was invited to the show. The show is more of the same all the time. It’s mesmerizing and hypnotic, flowing ever so smoothly and slowly, but fast enough to keep the boy awake. In the end of it all, he began to feel renewed. Then, at a certain point, he woke on the beach, facing the dimly lit embers of yesterday’s fire.

He feels empty now as he stares into the fire. The previous feeling of renewal has long been gone. Just when he is about to collapse, the man appears. The man takes out the medicine from the boy’s suitcase and offers it to the boy.

The boy understands now what it is that he must to next. He must leave the island and follow his path again to the next island. The others have left, but he is not too far behind. He sets out to face the ocean once more.

The boy is lost again. The vast sea is overbearing and cruel, but the boy knows he must endure. Except he is beginning to lose his understanding. Why is he on this boat, drifting in search of an island?

The boy knows there is no time for questions. All he knows is that he must go to the next island. All this is just a test of his mettle. He knows this well. Almost as if he repeated this over and over. He notices his battered suitcase and opens it. He takes out the mask and holds it up. The eyes glow blue from the ocean in the background. The boy gets the idea that next time he lights a fire, he would hold up the mask in front of it so that the eyes gleam red.

He takes out his map and compass. He can’t navigate very well, but he thinks he is on course. The boy suddenly becomes excited. He is lost, but he is very excited. He has a feeling that he will be saved on the next island.

Before: The Island has everything; there is a nice house where George and his parents live, running water, and the works. Basically, there is everything to keep George happy, except he’s not. George wonders around the Island, looking for something but nothing. He finds something and then nothing. He looks toward the Mystery Island. Everyone speaks about the Mystery Island, knows of the Island but nobody has been on the island or seen the Island. The Island not seen or heard. George is restless, it’s been like this for awhile, days, weeks, or months George does not keep track, but he wonders. He tosses and turns, walks and runs, makes leaps and bounds. He soon finds himself in the ocean being drifted away from anything and everything he knows. The stars keep him company; the moon guides him into the dark nothingness. He passes his childhood lunch pail; he grabs this and clings to it. He soon finds his mask that he had made for Halloween one year, he pulls this toward himself. He collects many items along the drifting path. George smells the sea, and feels the Island breeze. He begins to feel a blanket of security wrap him, he finds comfort. He welcomes the relaxed feeling that washes over him. Finally he reaches the Island…

After: George never actually reaches the Island but remains in the sea. He never wants to leave this utopia but feels as if he has created himself again. He is no longer George. Adam as returned back to Eden and it begins again.