The twenty-fourth day, Sowing

Last night, I tossed and turned more than ever, lost in thought. Lying once again in my own little bed felt so comfortable. I had carried Little Black in my suitcase, dragging him inside; his condition was still very poor. Now, a mountain of problems awaited me.

First, the fluid in my lighter was nearly gone; it would barely last a few days. What would I do for fire after that? I had no idea how to make fire by rubbing sticks together, but I supposed I had to try when the chance presented itself.

Second, I was running out of salt. My mouth had been tasting bland and uncomfortable lately, and my stomach often felt queasy—was it from a lack of salt? If I didn't resolve this, it could become dangerous for me.

Third, food. My diet had become extremely monotonous—just fruit every day, to the point that I could barely taste it anymore. I didn't have time to hunt every day, so I needed to figure out a way to secure a more dependable food supply. Of course, rabbits were starting to seem like an option.

But above all, I still worried—worried that he might still be alive, that he might one day return to find me, pointing his gun at my head.

He had piled so many things in my little hut. The suitcase really was stuffed with money, filling the chest over a meter high... But I laughed bitterly; to me now, that money was no different from scrap paper.

It took me ages to get the hut sorted. One flashlight, two pistols—one of them still with six bullets in the magazine—two cans of food, and, to my surprise, a frying pan. At the bottom of everything was a toolbox full of wrenches and hammers, likely for repairs on the ship.

This was more valuable to me now than anything else. With these tools, I could hunt, pry open oysters, and easily deal with coconut crabs!

He had scattered a pile of mismatched clothes on my little bed. Now, they were all mine.

Unfortunately, there was nothing I could find that might help Little Black.

I poured the seeds wrapped in paper from the message bottle into my palm. Maybe I should try planting some... Not that I was acting out of kindness, or placing so much importance on the girl's hope. To me, whether I could ever leave this place was still an open question.

I wanted to plant these seeds out of pure curiosity—to see what, if anything, would grow. Who could say if they were food seeds? Perhaps potatoes, or corn? These were just my idle guesses.

I had never grown vegetables before, or even managed to keep flowers alive, so I couldn't guarantee the seeds would survive.

Not wanting to waste them, I chose just a few this time—counted them, only ten.

I had mentioned before that the spot I picked was raised, like an upside-down pot lid. For this planting, I chose a sloped patch of ground not far from my hut.

Using the small blade of my Swiss Army knife, I cut into the soil, turning it over several times until the patch was ready. I sprinkled the seeds evenly across the earth, then grabbed a handful of dirt, crushed it into powder, and let it sift through my fingers to gently cover the seeds.

After a few passes, I patted the loose soil down with my hands to keep it from being too fluffy.

Exhaling deeply, I dusted off my hands and stood up. Done. I could only hope something useful would sprout...

I had to admit, the hammer from the toolbox was incredibly handy—I could dispatch coconut crabs in a single blow now. That was my third catch today.

Little Black needed nourishment. He hadn’t eaten much these past days, and I had nothing to feed him except for a few red berries he grudgingly nibbled.

Today, I decided to make him a meal: coconut crab stewed in coconut juice.

I had a pot now; crabs weren't easy to find, but I still remembered the last time I made crab stew in a coconut shell. Even so, the taste had lingered in my memory.

Coconuts were easy to come by—there were always ripe ones lying on the ground. With the Swiss Army knife, I could easily pierce the shell. I poured the juice into the pot. Thanks to the hammer, I didn’t have to waste any coconut meat; it all went in as well.

The shell of the coconut crab was incredibly tough. Smashing it with stones used to take ages, but now, one blow from the hammer was enough. I cleaned three crabs, extracting their springy white meat in large chunks and adding it all to the pot.

Once again, I lit the fire; the crackling sound was music to my ears. I propped the pot on stones and set the frying pan over the flames.

The fire quickly enveloped the pot. Soon, bubbles formed along the edge and the water began to boil. The aroma filled the hut—coconut’s sweetness mingling with the distinctive fragrance of crab meat, swirling through the air.

The scent roused Little Black. He opened his eyes, mouth slightly open, tongue out, tail wagging gently. The smell must have enticed him—he hadn’t had anything like this in days.

The fire was blazing, and before long, the stew came to a rolling boil. Grasping the pot handles, I set it aside to cool.

I roasted a crab body by the fire for myself—the yellow roe was particularly delicious, so fragrant, my favorite despite being a little dry; its unique flavor seemed to call to my soul.

Once the pot had cooled, I placed it before Little Black. It was just to his liking—he propped himself up on his front legs and lapped up the coconut broth eagerly.

With a stick, I fished out some crab meat and showed him there was more to enjoy. He liked it—devoured all the leg meat from the three crabs in just a few bites.

After finishing, he looked at me as if to ask for more. Seeing me shake my head, he simply lowered his head and resumed drinking the coconut broth.

“Goodness,” I murmured. After I finished my own crab roe and glanced back at the pot, I was stunned.

Little Black had even eaten all the coconut meat inside. He really must have been starving.

It was a good sign that he could eat. His belly was round now; content, he lay down again and soon fell asleep.

I watched the fire, pondering how to keep it going. I would need to gather more wood at night to keep the flames alive, since my lighter was about to give out.

Adding a few thicker branches to the fire, I finally lay down on the bed.

I had to admit, he had known how to live well. With all these clothes for padding, it was incredibly comfortable.