Chapter 26 Life with a Friend Friday and I spent the next three years living and working together.
We fell into a very comfortable routine.
In the mornings, we would check the island to make sure the natives hadn't returned.
In the afternoons, we would work on the farm, tend to the crops, smoke the goats, or pick fruit.
In the evenings we would make our dinner and I would teach Friday my language.
I trusted him completely.
Fortune had answered my prayers.
I was no longer alone.
Just having Friday around made me less afraid of being discovered.
I knew that the two of us together had a better chance of protecting ourselves against the natives.
It also made me think more and more about escaping.
I asked Friday many questions during this time.
Where were we?
Who were his people?
What islands were nearby?
Did he miss his family?
Would his family be looking for him?
For the most part, he smiled and nodded a reply until he learned my language and could answer me.
Friday, I asked, how come you don't want to go home to your island?
A long time ago, I left home.
I wanted to see the world.
My father was very angry with me.
He did not want me to go.
I was on my way to have a great voyage when I was caught by the natives.
Then you saved my life.
Do you miss your father?
Friday thought for a minute.
I do miss him.
I miss my island, but I like it here.
I like living here, working on the farm.
It's very different.
I smiled.
So, you want to stay?
Friday grinned from ear to ear.
Of course I do.
It's a chance of a lifetime to have such an adventure.
We're a lot alike, you and I, I said.
That's how I ended up on the island, too.
I left home for a great adventure and landed here over 20 years ago.
I spent hours telling Friday about my life before the island, about growing up in England, about my plantation in Brazil.
He told me about his life, about his family and about what it was like living on the island where he came from.
We had so much in common despite being born in very different places.
We became the best of friends.
We were meant to be great friends, Robinson.
I'm not worried.
I know everything will be okay.
We sat quietly in our tent for a while after that, each of us thinking about how he ended up here, each of us lost in his own thoughts about the life of an adventurer.
Friday, I asked, do any of your people ever get swept out to sea in their boats?
No, he replied.
I don't think so.
We row with the tide.
It works well.
The river runs through it all.
At first, I didn't understand what he meant.
What river?
Of course, I realized he must mean the great Orinoco River.
My island must be near Trinidad.
Have you seen many men like me before?
I pointed to my beard.
Friday thought about this for a minute.
Then he answered, A great way beyond the moon.
Far away from my people.
Far away from here.
There are whiskered men.
Men with long beards and pale faces.
Just like you.
Yes.
Friday's words made me very excited.
Do you think we could sail there from here in my small boat?
He shook his head.
My spirits fell.
Not in the small boat, no.
But we could sail in a bigger boat, big like two canoes.
I grinned from ear to ear.
I slapped Friday on the back out of happiness.
He looked at me like I was crazy, but I didn't care.
For the first time in over 20 years, I had an idea of where I had landed.
I had an idea of where my island was in relation to the world.
I wasn't alone, and I had a hope of going home.
One lazy afternoon during the dry season Friday, and I took a long walk down to the beach where I had seen a footprint.
I wanted to show him the pieces of the old ship that I had taken apart and hidden all those years ago.
Friday studied the wreckage of the boat for a long time.
He turned the pieces over to look underneath.
He walked all the way around it more than once.
Then he put his hand on his chin and said, "'I've seen a boat like this before, Robinson.'
I was very surprised to hear that.
"'What do you mean?'
I asked.
Friday looked at me and replied 'Four years ago yes, it was four years ago when seventeen men landed at my nation'.
He continued on to tell me that these men were still there, living on his island near his people.
They must be men from the shipwreck I saw.
I told Friday all about how I had heard cannon shots that night and then gunfire.
But the fog cleared and I came down to the beach and all I could find was another broken ship.
How wonderful that all those men didn't die that night as I thought they did.
We started to walk back to camp, both of us lost in our own thoughts.
It was a quiet walk, and I didn't say anything to my friend until after dinner.
Friday, I said decidedly, we must go back to your island.
