Misplaced 6, part 1.

Man, however well behaved at best is only a monkey shaved.

They all spent the night in the makeshift camp among the rocks. Although everyone agreed they would be safer and more comfortable back in the well-built shelters on the other island, the Ruth of this world was still quite weak from loss of blood and movement caused pain, so they didn't want to try to move her. Mick had been anxious when he heard this, and looked almost ready to run away, but perhaps shame or the realisation that there was nowhere to go had kept him with them, although he kept looking round anxiously at the slightest noise, afraid that it might be the Creature.


The unknown thing which haunted the island seemed to deserve the initial capital letter. While they were out looking for food Rachel and Emily had found a footprint on the beach.

"It was huge," Rachel said when she was telling the others about it that evening around the campfire. "Really scary."

Ruth was talking to both the Toms, asking if much had been done to search the plane and the site of the crash for useful equipment.

"It was too burnt for much to survive," the Tom of this world had said. "And it wasn't very safe, so we kept away at first. We were afraid of another explosion."

"And no one's been back since?" Tom asked.

"We can't," the other Tom replied. "It's in the part of the island belonging to the others, and they won't let us go near."

"So they've probably searched it already then?"

"I doubt it," Tom of this world said. "But anyway, nothing much could have survived the fire."

"Apart from the gun," the Charlotte of this world said.

"More's the pity," Tom said.

"What gun?" Ruth asked.

"The pilot had a gun with him, in case of hijackers I suppose. It survived. Kath was the first to get hold of it. That's why we had to agree to them going off and to keeping out of their part of the island."

"They threatened you?" Ruth was appalled. As if it hadn't been bad enough before. She stared into the fire, grateful once more that in her universe the crash had turned out very differently, but shocked too by how people she felt she knew had behaved so frighteningly.

As she sat thinking she thought she heard something behind her. She turned quickly, afraid it would be the Creature. But it was Patrick. She had noticed that he was missing from the circle and had assumed he had wandered off as usual. She had been worried that he might meet the Creature, but had thought that his usual streak of luck would probably save him from coming to too much harm.

Behind him was the other Patrick. Still looking as bedraggled and apprehensive as he had earlier, but his expression was not quite so wild and animal-like. Everyone turned and stared for a moment, as the two Patricks stood there awkwardly.

Ruth looked at the other Ruth. She could tell that she was shocked by his condition, but relieved to see him alive and apparently well. Ruth stood up and went towards the two Patricks.

"I'm glad you're ok," she said. "I think it's time we all got some rest."



Ruth had wondered if she would have any more of her dreams that night, and if so what she would dream of, since her alternate self was lying next to her. Once she woke up to find the other Ruth talking quietly to Monkey Patrick, but apart from that her sleep was undisturbed by dreams or monsters.

The next morning, after breakfast, most of the group dispersed to look for more food and firewood. Ruth had been told to stay near the camp, to look after the other Ruth and tend the fire. But once she was sure that all the others had gone, she stood staring out over the island for some minutes, then turned and went to talk to herself.

Not long afterwards, she was cautiously pushing her way through the undergrowth, making her way towards the place where the the plane had crashed. It was not hard to find; there were scorch marks and a trail of burning. The others had been lucky that a torrential rainstorm just after the crash had put out most of the fires.

She looked at what was left of the plane. The fire had done far more damage than the crash. Unlike in her universe, the whole wreck was blackened with smoke and as she cautiously climbed up into the wreckage she felt highly unsafe.

The whole back section of the plane had been hit the worst by the fire. That was where those who had died had been sat- Ruth remembered that in her world too they had sat there together to discuss the technical plans for the next show. In her world they had been lucky- the fuel leak had at least meant that there was very little fire. Everyone but the pilot had survived. She wondered what would have happened if the same people had been killed as had died here. They included most of the more practically minded ones, and as much as she might joke about techies spending more time 'supervising' than actually doing anything productive, she knew that without them the aftermath of the crash could have been much worse.

The fire had also, it seemed, destroyed most of the travellers' luggage, including all their tools and equipment. That had also made it much harder for them to survive. But worst of all had been the gun. Looking round, Ruth was very grateful that the plane she was on had not burnt.

Slowly, treading very carefully, she worked her way to the front of the plane. She reached the cockpit. It was crushed, but much of the machinery didn't seem too badly damaged. She realised that she didn't really know what she was looking for here. What would radio equipment look like? Or anything useful? And anyway, it was all fixed in place, and she didn't have the tools to free anything. It would take someone with Nick or David's skill to do that. She supposed those were the reasons why none of the others had tried. That, and the fear of the creature and of the other humans.
 
The story continues...

Misplaced 5, part 5.

Ruth was the first to return to the makshift camp among the boulders, with a bundle of firewood and some water. She put her load down beside the fireplace. Carefully she built a fire, lit it, and put the water on to heat. She pulled some of Patrick’s ‘tea’ leaves, wrapped in a scrap of cloth, from her pocket and brewed it with the boiled water, and then took it over to the other Ruth. Claire was asleep on the far side of the fire.


“Here,” Ruth said. “It’s tea. Sort of.”

“Thanks,” the other Ruth said. They looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to say. The Ruth of this universe tried to sit up to drink the tea more easily, but slumped back and her face creased up for a moment in pain..

“Can I help at all?” Ruth asked her, feeling helpless. The other Ruth shook her head.

“I’ll be ok. Sorry.”

“Not at all,” Ruth replied awkwardly. “It looks pretty bad,” she said, looking at the makeshift bandages.

“It’s starting to heal,” the other Ruth replied. “I was worried about infection, but I think it’ll be ok.”

“But it’s still pretty painful?” Ruth asked.

“Yes,” the other Ruth replied, looking down. “I didn’t want the others to know, but I’m not very brave. I must have seemed pathetic.”

“I don’t think that’s the only pain you’ve got, either,” Ruth said quietly. The other Ruth looked at her.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Because you’re like me. And if I was in your situation- I’d be worried and afraid- I am anyway, but it seems to have been so much worse for you- not only for myself but for my friends. I’d feel guilty that other people were having to work harder to find extra food and support me, and that the group has fallen out- which I know I’d feel was my fault- and that’s made life harder for my friends- and might mean the difference between life and death. And I’d mourn for those who had died, and be afraid for the people who had just disappeared, like Pat, and afraid that they’d already become victims of the Creature. And I think that this pain of the heart would be every bit as bad as the pain from those physical wounds.”

The other Ruth looked at her, surprised, but also relieved that someone understood. “Yes,” she said. “You’re right.”

“You might say you’re not very brave,” Ruth said. “But I think I’d go completely to pieces if I were in your situation. You’re better than you think. I wish I could help you, take your pain away.”

“I feel like I have gone to pieces,” the other Ruth said. “I wish I could have done more to help the others, not just lie here and moan. And- well I don’t really know how all this works, alternate dimensions and stuff, I don’t know how much we are the same- but from what I can tell- you wouldn’t do worse than me. You had the courage to come and find us. And that already has helped a lot. I don’t feel so scared now.” Ruth looked at the fire, thinking of her friends who had turned back.

“I suppose so,” she said. She remembered something she had noticed when she first met this other Ruth.

“You didn’t seem as surprised as the others when we arrived,” she said. The other Ruth went quiet.

“It sounds so strange to say,” she said eventually. “But I wasn’t. Somehow...well, I’d been having these...dreams. I thought it was just because I was ill, or traumatised, or something, but they seemed so real...”

“I know,” Ruth said. “I’ve had them too.”

“You have?”

“I dreamed about the crash, not as I experienced it but as you did. I dreamed about the accident where x was killed- in my world no one was hurt, although it was close. And I dreamed about the attack where you were injured. When we first met the others and found that your plane crash had been like my dream, I was scared. It was all coming true. I thought you had been killed.” The other Ruth looked at her.

“Sometimes I think it would have been better if I had,” she said. Ruth reached out and took her hand, not knowing what to say.

“What did you dream about?” she asked eventually.

“The same things, but from your point of view,” the other Ruth said. “But it didn’t make any sense. I thought it was stress, reaction to the crash, but even then it didn’t really make sense until you arrived today.” She looked at the fire and sipped her tea. “There’s one other dream that I still don’t understand,” she said, not looking up. “It doesn’t match up to anything you’ve said has happened to you.”

“What was it about?” Ruth asked.

“It was last night that I dreamt it. It wasn’t very clear- it looked like I- or you- had been captured by the others- by the people I used to call friends- Kath, Emma, Ernest and the others. And I was in pain- although that might just have been my wounds- and they were asking me questions and I was trying not to tell them something. I don’t know what. It wasn’t pleasant. But I don’t understand. Nothing like that’s happened to you, has it?”

“No,” Ruth said. “Maybe that was just a dream. I mean, if your dreams have been about me, then that one should be to, but my friends haven’t done that- they wouldn’t, I’m sure they wouldn’t.” But although she said she was sure, there was some doubt in her mind as she remembered the way they had turned back and left her small group to search for survivors.

As if on cue, Nick came into sight. He had been back through to the others, to tell them what had happened and fetch some tools and supplies.

“Didn’t any of the others come with you?” Ruth asked him.

“No,” he said. “They wouldn’t come. We’re on our own.”
 
 
The story continues...

Misplaced 5, part 5.

  Ruth was the first to return to the makshift camp among the boulders, with a bundle of firewood and some water.  She put her load down beside the fireplace.  Carefully she built a fire, lit it, and put the water on to heat.  She pulled some of Patrick’s ‘tea’ leaves, wrapped in a scrap of cloth, from her pocket and brewed it with the boiled water, and then took it over to the other Ruth.  Claire was asleep on the far side of the fire.
 

  “Here,” Ruth said.  “It’s tea.  Sort of.”  
 

  “Thanks,” the other Ruth said.  They looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to say.  The Ruth of this universe tried to sit up to drink the tea more easily, but slumped back and her face creased up for a moment in pain..  
 

  “Can I help at all?” Ruth asked her, feeling helpless.  The other Ruth shook her head.  
 

  “I’ll be ok.  Sorry.”
 

  “Not at all,” Ruth replied awkwardly.  “It looks pretty bad,” she said, looking at the makeshift bandages.
 

  “It’s starting to heal,” the other Ruth replied.  “I was worried about infection, but I think it’ll be ok.”
 

  “But it’s still pretty painful?” Ruth asked.
 

  “Yes,” the other Ruth replied, looking down.  “I didn’t want the others to know, but I’m not very brave.  I must have seemed pathetic.”
 

  “I don’t think that’s the only pain you’ve got, either,” Ruth said quietly.  The other Ruth looked at her.
 

  “How did you know?” she asked.
 

  “Because you’re like me.  And if I was in your situation- I’d be worried and afraid- I am anyway, but it seems to have been so much worse for you- not only for myself but for my friends. I’d feel guilty that other people were having to work harder to find extra food and support me, and that the group has fallen out- which I know I’d feel was my fault- and that’s made life harder for my friends- and might mean the difference between life and death.  And I’d mourn for those who had died, and be afraid for the people who had just disappeared, like Pat, and afraid that they’d already become victims of the Creature.  And I think that this pain of the heart would be every bit as bad as the pain from those physical wounds.”
 

  The other Ruth looked at her, surprised, but also relieved that someone understood.  “Yes,” she said.  “You’re right.”
 

  “You might say you’re not very brave,” Ruth said.  “But I think I’d go completely to pieces if I were in your situation.  You’re better than you think.  I wish I could help you, take your pain away.”
 

  “I feel like I have gone to pieces,”  the other Ruth said.  “I wish I could have done more to help the others, not just lie here and moan.  And- well I don’t really know how all this works, alternate dimensions and stuff, I don’t know how much we are the same- but from what I can tell- you wouldn’t do worse than me.  You had the courage to come and find us.  And that already has helped a lot.  I don’t feel so scared now.”   Ruth looked at the fire, thinking of her friends who had turned back.
 

  “I suppose so,” she said.  She remembered something she had noticed when she first met this other Ruth.
 

  “You didn’t seem as surprised as the others when we arrived,” she said.  The other Ruth went quiet.  
 

  “It sounds so strange to say,” she said eventually.  “But I wasn’t.  Somehow...well, I’d been having these...dreams.  I thought it was just because I was ill, or traumatised, or something, but they seemed so real...”
 

  “I know,” Ruth said.  “I’ve had them too.”
 

  “You have?”
 

  “I dreamed about the crash, not as I experienced it but as you did.  I dreamed about the accident where x was killed- in my world no one was hurt, although it was close.  And I dreamed about the attack where you were injured.  When we first met the others and found that your plane crash had been like my dream, I was scared.  It was all coming true.  I thought you had been killed.”  The other Ruth looked at her.
 

  “Sometimes I think it would have been better if I had,” she said.  Ruth reached out and took her hand, not knowing what to say.
 

  “What did you dream about?” she asked eventually.
 

  “The same things, but from your point of view,” the other Ruth said.  “But it didn’t make any sense.  I thought it was stress, reaction to the crash, but even then it didn’t really make sense until you arrived today.”  She looked at the fire and sipped her tea.  “There’s one other dream that I still don’t understand,” she said, not looking up.  “It doesn’t match up to anything you’ve said has happened to you.”
 

  “What was it about?” Ruth asked.  
 

  “It was last night that I dreamt it.  It wasn’t very clear- it looked like I- or you- had been captured by the others- by the people I used to call friends- Kath, Emma, Ernest and the others.  And I was in pain- although that might just have been my wounds- and they were asking me questions and I was trying not to tell them something.  I don’t know what.  It wasn’t pleasant.  But I don’t understand.  Nothing like that’s happened to you, has it?”
 

   “No,” Ruth said.  “Maybe that was just a dream.  I mean, if your dreams have been about me, then that one should be to, but my friends haven’t done that- they wouldn’t, I’m sure they wouldn’t.”  But although she said she was sure, there was some doubt in her mind as she remembered the way they had turned back and left her small group to search for survivors.  
 

  As if on cue, Nick came into sight.  He had been back through to the others, to tell them what had happened and fetch some tools and supplies.  
 

  “Didn’t any of the others come with you?” Ruth asked him.
 

  “No,” he said.  “They wouldn’t come.  We’re on our own.”

 

 

The story continues...