But at this point, regardless of how it happened, it seemed he was
going to die. He could not survive blind in the wild; not even four
days. Before, it was unknown what would kill him first. The infection
spreading from his splayed finger. A disease contracted from the
unpurified water he was drinking, such as cholera. A tooth infection
rendering him unable to eat or open his stiff jaw.
George mused over flinging himself from the edge of the island
into the rapids in the hope that his skull would crack against a rock,
either killing him instantly, or knocking him unconscious to drown. But
what if his head didn’t break, and he drowned consciously? George could
think of no worse way to die than by drowning. He resolved that he
would rather dehydrate and wither on this rock before drowning.
He entertained the idea of stabbing himself with his knife. But
it would require multiple stabs. He could slit his own throat, but he did
not have the will to even imagine that. Suicide in by unconventional
means was a scary thought. With serious consideration given, it was
scarier than suddenly going blind and becoming defenseless. He figured
that is why animals don’t commit suicide in dire times. It’s not that they
have an unbreakable hope of an improving situation, or that they are too
dumb—it’s that there is no instant, peaceful, or guaranteed way to do it.
It is scarier than facing starvation and dehydration.
With these thoughts, an overwhelming feeling of doom rushed
over him. He whimpered aloud, but the sound was lost among the
loud static of water crashing over the rocks below him. And then his
eyes opened, yet he could see nothing. Total darkness surrounded him.
He blinked hard several times, but there was no difference between
when his eyes were open and when they were closed. He thought his
nightmare was confirmed: that he was blind. But then something in his
periphery—a faint green glimmer—caught his attention. It was reflecting
off the inner polished lid of his Copenhagen tin. He rolled onto his
back and gazed at the sky. It was the darkest night he had ever seen, with
no moon in the sky. Snakes of green and purple slithered through the
cosmos of the Milky Way. He was watching the aurora borealis, and he
smiled at the cursive Northern Lights; he could see now.
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