On the appointed day I left home early in the morning, but when I heard some commotion on the shore, I turned toward the beach. It turned out that some tourists, Germans by the way they spoke, had rented a kayak designed for two people. But these guys, each weighing at least a hundred pounds, managed to fit three of them in.

I recognized Hans among the fat men.

He had lost a lot of weight since the last time I saw him, and I thought he was tipsy again.

His friends in their orange life jackets looked cheerful. With their oars resting on the seabed, they pushed off once or twice, overcame a steep wave and slide forward, but suddenly the boat capsized before it could gain speed. Instead of pushing the kayak to the shore, which was within easy reach, the Germans tried to climb into it in deep water and capsized again. They did this ten times. I thought they were screwing around, that it was a game, but there was a look of confusion on their faces: what’s wrong? What’s our mistake?

Meanwhile, the rip current began to carry them away. The kayak took on water and almost disappeared under waves. One of the “sailors” turned toward the shore, the second floundered a bit more and swam after him; but then Hans for some reason pulled off his life jacket and leaned on the guy from behind, trying to rip the jacket off him as well.

For a second, both of them disappeared under the water, but quickly resurfaced like a cork. Without giving the poor guy a second thought, Hans attacked him again. The German rolled over on his back and tried to fight back with his legs, but Hans managed to grab him by the hair, pulled him down and started to drown him.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I yelled. “Stop your stupid jokes, it’s not funny anymore!”

I threw off my sandals and jumped into the water, but out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the first swimmer had been caught in the rip current again. His eyes were bulging, and he was flailing his arms and legs in the water with all his might. But the more he struggled, the further he got from shore and the more exhausted he became.

“Oh, damn you!” I swore. “Swim sideways, towards the cape! Turn left!”

But he only turned his head wildly and continued to fight the treacherous current.

“To hell with him!” I thought. “At least he has a life jacket, and unlike his friend who was attacked by a crazy outcast, he wouldn’t drown. As soon as I get to shore, I’ll call for help.”

So I turned and swam quickly toward the struggling couple. My maneuver sobered up the German was sobered by; he stopped churning the water, automatically followed me, and in a few seconds he was out of danger. Meanwhile, we were seen from the shore; someone jumped into the wave, and now the stranger and I both moved toward the drowning men. I got there first.

When Hans saw me, he left the Potbelly alone, but suddenly disappeared under water himself. I followed him with my arm out in front of me, but I missed him in the cloud of bubbles, and when I surfaced, I saw Randy in front of me.

“Where is that son of a bitch?” he gasped, panting.

And without waiting for an answer, he took a deep breath and dove in.I swam up to the martyr, who was barely alive, dangling in the waves like a rag doll. I had to slap him on the cheeks before he opened his eyes and groaned.

Randy’s head popped up next to me:

“Is he alive?” he shouted. “Swim with him to the shore. Make sure the dude’s conscious or he’s dead!”

He took a deep breath and dove in again.

But the Potbelly was so weak that he couldn’t swim on his own, and my strength was running out, too. Fortunately, the first German had time to call the rescue team, and a boat was already on its way to help us.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Hans was brought to the shore, but he stopped breathing – he lay like a toad, exposing his pale belly. When the rescuers turned him on his side, water gushed from his mouth and nose.

While he was being revived and resuscitated, Randy cursed Hans up and down. Then he ran over to the rescued Potbelly and asked him something. The he just mumbled something back, still in shock.

I heard one of the rescuers say about the outcast:

“It’s no use! The guy’s not breathing.”

“What do you mean ‘not breathing’?!” Randy jumped up to Hans. “So make him breathe!”

He kicked the fat man in the stomach with all his might. Something gurgled there. The drowned man grunted, and suddenly coughed violently, then pushed himself up and spat out the jellyfish onto the sand.

“Bastard!” Randy kicked him again. “You wanted to get out of here? Here you go! Take that!”

Kicks and punches rained down on the outcast. I’d never seen Randy like that before – Hans must have really pissed him off.

“Leave him alone!” I grabbed the bearded man’s elbow. “Can’t you see he’s already in trouble?”

“Really?” He broke free and hit the fat man again and again. “It wouldn’t be Hans who was in trouble, but this guy,” Randy nodded at the Potbelly, the doctor was working on. “If that pig had penetrated him.”

“What do you mean – ‘penetrated’?” I was stunned.

“Nothing,” he said. “Go where you’re going. We’ll figure it out without you.”

“No, I want to know what’s going on!” I insisted. “Hans was harassing him, right?”

“What?” Randy’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You said – harassing?”

And then it dawned on him. He bent in half with laughter:

“Oh, no, dude, no! It’s not what you think. You misunderstood me.”

“How was I supposed to understand you?”

Randy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked at the Bavarian sitting quietly in the shade.

“Well, to cut a long story short,” he turned to me. “Hans wanted to take over this dude’s body and get off the Island – so he came up with this whole drowning thing.”

“How is that?” I didn’t understand. “He almost killed him and almost drowned himself, didn’t he?”

“It’s a good thing you caught him in time,” the bearded man grinned. “A year ago, an outcast ran away like that. He took over the body of a pregnant chick who was drowning. She was saved, but his headless skeleton washed ashore after a storm only a month later. We found him in a pile of seaweed. By the time we realized what had happened, the woman had already left the Island.”

“Wait, you’re not saying that he escaped in her body, are you?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what happened,” he grinned. “He must have been born somewhere, the damn bastard! I hate these smart-assed outcasts always trying want to take advantage of someone’s hard work!”

“Are you kidding me? That sounds incredible.”

“Yeah, like your afterlife, huh?”

“So any of us can be reborn?”

“Hey, hey, I didn’t say that!” Randy was worried. “Why the hell would you want to be a snotty asshole in diapers again? What’s the point? Besides, who knows what kind of woman will give birth to you and in what God-forsaken place it might happen. Will you end up somewhere in the Tumba-yumba tribe? Fuck that!

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to change my body just yet. I’m pretty happy with the way I look.”

“I tell you the same thing! They give you shit and then you have to live with it.”

“Listen, why did Hans need a man? Or maybe that Potbelly is pregnant too?”

“Oh, dude, no!” Randy chuckled. “Although… No, science hasn’t gotten that far yet.”

“But then why? What would have happened to the guy if Hans had finished what he started?”

“The dude wouldn’t be himself anymore. Have you ever heard of split personality? That’s what this is. He and the faggot would have a suit for two. Sounds like a dubious pleasure to me.”

“What are you going to do with Hans? Will you give him to ‘them’?”

“Sure!” Randy spat. “Actually, your redheaded girlfriend was supposed to do it, but the girl’s too busy,” he winkled, “with matters of the heart...”

“Shut up!” I besieged him.

“Shut up yourself and get out of here, because the monk is probably waiting for you.”“Are you spying on me?”

“Fuck off!” He turned his back on me. “Don’t forget your sandals. Bye-bye, dude!”

To be continued