Folake said, "Sometimes at night, I wonder if the sea has taught him enough by now."
Tayo replied, "It has, my friend, because a lesson earned this hard is never forgotten."
Folake said, "Put his gold away tonight, because our joy was never really about shining metal."
Tayo observed, "No, it was about your dignity, and that shines brighter than any chain."
At last she made the decision that should have come much earlier. Captain Segun knew a fisherman named Kola who lived near the waters where the island lay, a man trusted by the people in his small harbor community. Folake requested help without fanfare, and Segun accepted the responsibility of contacting him. It could not undo the nights Kayode had spent alone, but it could offer him a chance to live and face the people who had abandoned him. Folake watched the sea from the rail as though waiting for it to answer a question she dared not say aloud.
Folake said softly, "Captain, send word to your fisherman friend. Let him check that island and bring the man home."
Captain said, "It will be done quietly, my child. Mercy travels fastest when nobody is watching it go."
On the island, Kayode was no longer counting the days with the certainty he had shown at the start. He had built and rebuilt, searched, waited, shouted, and fallen asleep listening to the water, but none of it had brought him back to civilization. A small boat appeared on the horizon when he had almost ceased believing that the sea held anyone except himself. He stood and waved a branch with whatever strength he could gather. This time the boat altered its direction, and the sight was so astonishing that relief felt almost like pain.
Kayode said, "I cannot go on much longer like this. So please, send somebody soon. I was a king on that great ship, and now I cannot even walk this small beach.
I am feeling dizzy. This sun is so dangerous. Island, what are you doing to me?
I will rest here a little, then rise again, because giving up will not feed me. My rich food is finished. My fine wine is finished. Only coconuts and green leaves remain. Fly, but every eye that crosses this water... Rope—good rope from the kind sea. With this, my shelter roof will finally hold strong.
Kayode, stand up again tomorrow, because a man who stops moving has already surrendered his life. The wind scattered my branches last night, but it will not scatter the little hope left. If one boat ever finds this shore, I will greet it as a changed man, truly.
Wait... something moves out there. A small boat!
Please let my weak eyes be right today! Here! Here! Look at this island! Look at me! Please do not pass me by today! I am here! A living man is here! Turn this way! Please turn this way now!