Oik Island Book 12.5 Analysis

Book 12.5: The Arrival to Oik Island My hair, grey with a bronzed tint, laid limp on my forehead as my body involuntarily washed up on the coast of Oik Island. Defenseless, lonely, and weak, I only had my determination to figure out how to escape this wretched island and return home. I felt the inevitable burden of my crew’s passing, and the image of their bodies being torn vigorously into pieces surrounded my mind with such grave guilt. The salt of the ocean had blistered my various wounds from the fierce aggression of Scylla, and I was left broken physically and emotionally on the ground as my heart and mind yearned to be home; my body, however, sought the comfort of warmth and food. I found courage within myself and I used what was left
of my muscle and might to stand myself up and embark on this journey from Oik to home. When a fawn is born, it approaches the cold and relentless world from the soft and warming environment of its mother, yet it does not hesitate to tackle this world. Instead, it uses its determination and aspiration to become something significant and pushes itself up to conquer the rest of its life. Just this way, my tremulous legs guided me through the sand into the forest terrain of the island where I sought for any sort of berry to feast on. I approached a bush with bundles of red so rich it would seem like it was fit for a king… My eyes glistened with the sight of them and I feverishly grabbed a bundle guiding them towards my watering mouth. As I was about to let them loose to be devoured upon, a voice interrupted me. A voice so familiar, yet one that startled me with the roughness of it. “Son, don’t you eat those… Unless of course, you’d like to die,” the voice croaked. I spun my head around and my eyes widened as I saw the petite stature of an elderly woman standing before me. There she stood with piercings in each ear, fine jewelry, and a silk scarf which was wrapped around her wispy white hair. Her face, although once soft, appeared to be as tough as leather. Her weathered complexion appealed to me, for I was just the same. “Come with me, Son; let me get you something to eat. May I ask of you to address me as the Perceptive and Foretelling Pskhillos.” She motioned me further into the forest where a small cottage sat. She prepared for me a savory meal, and my health was replenished, yet I still felt the undeniable pain in my heart. “What might I call you, dear?” She finally asked me. I looked up from my plate and with cold breath I sighed. “I am not sure who I am anymore. I am not sure if I deserve my name anymore. I am not sure if I still am the Great Odysseus,” I responded quietly. Her eyebrow perked in a sloping angle and she came near me. With a motherly touch, she swiped the hair from my forehead and caressed my palm. She closed her eyes and grinned. “Your wife… Penelope… Son… Telemachus…. Faithful companion…. Argos… Oh, how they miss you so,” she took deep breaths, letting the knowledge pass through her body. “In fact, I had forewarned them that you would arrive here with my psychic visions. With such great effort, they all had made their way to this island to meet you! So much for sitting around and waiting for you to return home, for they decided it was their own duty to meet you again…” I sat in astonishment as she laid her words down upon me. “They are here?” I replied with skepticality. “Who is to tend to the Kingdom? Who is to now care for the peasants and monitor my throne? This is all too unlikely of my dear wife and son, for they know the pricelessness of our kingdom… Perceptive and Foreboding Pskhillos, the words emerging from your mouth are all but truthful! They must be!” “No need to worry about that now, Son, for they are here and this is what you should focus on…” The woman disappeared behind her drapes and the shadow of her arching back and unoriented limbs manipulated the sheets. Though I was perplexed and confused, I was distracted as two gleaming figures appeared: one who appeared to be my son and the other my wife. I stood and approached them with my arms turned out wide. Like the familiar saltwater of the sea home to Charybdis, my sun roasted face burned as it felt stinging droplets leaking from my eyes. “The Great Odysseus! My loyal husband is he! Oh, how I have missed you ever so dearly!” Penelope sang. Quite peculiar, I thought, for she is never this joyous… I reached out and embraced her cheek silently... too astounded for words. I stepped away to admire my strong and handsome son. His broad and harsh shoulders ripped through the seams of his cloak, yet his blue eyes seemed so welcoming. “Why have you come here? How were you able to come with such speed and ease?” I interrogated. “No need for worrying, Father… We are here now… That is all that matters! Let us all go rest from our hard and tedious journeys in the comfort of Pshkillo’s den.” It was not until after days of feasting and relaxing until I approached Pskhillos to speak with her. “Now that you know me, and my journey of losing my crew, might I ask you some questions?” She nodded. “Who are you and what are you doing on this island? Why tell my family of my presence here?” “Why, dear, I told you! Pskhillos is my name, and I am able to predict the future. I told your family because I knew that you would come and I would not want my knowledge to go to waste!” she replied lightly. I doubted her reason, for the expression on her face seemed too sure of itself. I closed my eyes to an extent that only my eyelashes were the things preventing me from seeing. “Fine, you want my life story? I raised my family on Oik Island. My husband, servants… my-” she choked on her words. “My beautiful children… All grew with me here until one day, I sensed a large storm coming. I warned them all, yet none listened. No one survived, not even my darling Chrystaliso. I could still feel the familiarity of her long blonde hair with the touch of yours…” I tilted my head and felt the harsh texture of my broken hair. A single tear ran down her cheek, yet it did not drop. I nodded and went back to my room with my wife. “We shall head back to Ithaca in the morning, dear.
The kingdom needs us!” I uttered abruptly. “NO!” she accosted me from across the room. With distress, she came and dug her nails into my arms, leaving small cuts. “We mustn't leave, for it is peaceful and welcoming here! There is no need to return home, for it is in the hands of the responsible. Oh, Great Odysseus, you must be feeling under the weather. Have yourself a warm soak and I will prepare for you some fine wine.” I agreed and I was beginning to think that this was where I was supposed to be… on the island of Oik. We carried out our days with lavish meals and spending time with the Perceptive and Foretelling Pskhillos. All seemed well and in order until one day, I met my wife by the nearby lake. I called to her and she turned her head slowly. Though her clothing was intact, her face resembled Pskhillos and her body was one of a ghost. As she saw my expression, the strange creature took in a deep breath and returned to the figure of
Penelope.
“Oh dear,” she expressed without any suspicion, yet her voice mirrored the harsh texture of Pskhillos’s.
She cleared her throat and returned to my wife’s voice, “Let us return home and cook up this marvelous fish I caught! We will enjoy a spectacular feast tonight, yes we will!” In this situation, I was not myself, for I denied the odd situation that just transpired, and I focused on the fact that my own wife was hunting! Never had her hands previously killed an animal, nor has she ever suggested to cook herself, for there was always someone around to assist her. In spite of our situation, it all seemed too unfamiliar. I began to doubt the authenticity of my wife, yet I realized that she must have changed during these past thirteen years, so I was not in the right place to make assumptions. I drifted off to sleep that night with a full stomach, clouded mind, and the willingness to stay on Oik Island
forever.
I had difficulties opening my eyes, for they were sealed shut with the perplexity of my dreams. From the distance, a blurred figure approached me. A large and gleaming shield accompanied her and in spite of her cloudy appearance, I knew that this was Athena.
“The Great Odysseus,” she claimed frantically. “What has gotten into you? You have been on this island for three years without a care for your own kingdom! Don’t you realize that it is falling apart? Penelope is being bombarded by Suitors and your son’s frustration has caused the whole kingdom a famine! Pull yourself together!”
“Your excellency,” I answered. “Athena, you are mistaken, for my family is with me on this very island!”
“Where has your wisdom gone, Odysseus? Look around you! Penelope is not herself… Telemachus is not himself… They are not even your family!” she cried. “Pskhillos brought these creatures to this island to keep you here! She is capable of transforming herself into what you want the most! You must leave, but in order to do so, you must kill Pskhillos before she does the same to you.”
“But Athena, she is just a fragile old woman!” I exclaimed.
“An old woman she may look, but a devious and manipulative creature she truly is. Her former family died not from a storm, but from her own mistaken actions! She had viciously murdered them all before they left her alone on this island.” Athena looked down at the ground and shook her head. “Odysseus, I wish you the best, but there is no other way for me to help you.” The goddess left and I sat, trusting of no one. I realized that I had been deceived, me, the Great Odysseus, of all people! I was baffled and disappointed with myself, for I had let my wants get ahead of me. I realized there was no time to waste and I had to leave this island.
I found myself venturing through the forest once again, fearless of anything and everything that approached me. This gained confidence inspired me to construct a plan more cunning and wise than any other; I confiscated a bundle of rich berries, and I hurried them back to the cottage. With great ease, I made a dessert so tasteful no one would dare to be apprehensive to taste its delicacy; a custom of my mother’s fine culinary creations, I had made a rich berry pie; however, the secret ingredient was one that no one would live to be able to tell.
I approached Pskhillos with this treat and kindly offered it to her.
“The Perceptive and Foretelling Pskhillos, how you welcomed my family and me to your island. This is how I can repay you!” I insisted with a snide undertone. She was hesitant at first, but as the aroma of the sweet pie wafted up to her nostrils and infused itself within the cold veins of her body, she subconsciously grabbed a piece and ingested it smoothly. It was only until a matter of minutes, though, until this delightful treat became deadly. The witch before me began to turn into a purple complexion, and her once stout body began to sink into the ground. As she disintegrated, she shot me with a look of horror, yet I felt no remorse. How dare she manipulate me into staying on this island? How dare she lie to me and transform herself into my family? This monster is one that does not deserve my shame! This monster is one that deserves to die.
“Why, I just never wanted to be lonely, Son!” Pskhillos cried.
“And lonely is what you’ll forever be with your lying and deceitful ways!” I replied. I let the once Perceptive and Foretelling Pskhillos pass before me and I turned away without looking back. It was time now to embark on my journey home with the greatest ambition of a fawn.