text: The Auris surround you, their spears ready for action. You gently lower the satellite phone to the ground, then raise your hands to shoulder-level, hoping that this was the universal gesture for surrender even in the Stone Age. One of your captors responds by motioning with a sideways tip of his spear, which you assume means he wants you to follow. You wouldn't still be in this business if you weren't smart enough to know when to admit defeat, so you fall in line as the natives march you through the forest.
  
  They lead you to the foot of a mountain where, in a small clearing, you find a group of grass huts huddled together. A wall of rock five feet high rises above the level of the village, and on top of this sits a larger hut — clearly the dwelling of someone significant. Above the village rises the bare, rocky slopes of the mountain.
  
  When you hesitate, the Auri behind you gives you a firm shove. You feel as if you are being paraded through the village, with the inhabitants staring at you as you pass by. The two warriors ahead of you lead the way up a set of rough-hewn steps to the top of the rock wall, to what you presume to be the chief's hut.
  
  However, this structure is even grander than you first believed. The hut turns out to be a mere foyer for a large, cavernous room set into the mountainside. At the far end of the chamber sits a man on an elaborate wicker chair — more like a king than a tribal chieftain. Several servants, both men and woman, serve as his retinue.
  
  The five Auris who captured you at your campsite form a line behind you, blocking any possibility of escape, and the largest of them forces you into a kneeling position before the chief-king. This cave-like room is dimly lit, but not entirely dark; you suspect there is an opening in the ceiling above you, but you dare not look up lest it be seen as a sign of disrespect. This feels like a very deadly situation, so it is best to keep your wits about you.
  
  The chief-king draws one of his woman servants closer to him. "E ninau no ka mea a keia malihini e hana nei ma ko makou 'aina. 'O keia mau 'opala i holoi 'ia ma ke kahakai?" he says to her.
  
  The woman then turns to you. "The Chief of the Auris wishes to know why you are on this island." Her English is quite good, albeit uncertain, like someone who once knew the language well but has not had much occasion to speak it recently.
  
  "Um, tell him I am merely passing through," you say, speaking to the woman but keeping your eyes on the chief. He is adorned with the bones and feathers of many creatures, but you are relieved to see that none appear human. There may be a way out of this yet.
  
  "Passing through to where?" the woman says, before translating your statement to her chief. Her English has a peculiar accent, which you can't quite place.
  
  "To Woban Island," you say.
  
  She turns back to the chief. "Ua 'olelo 'ia he hiamoe wale no ia ma ka makou kahakai i ka 'mokupuni o Woban. 'Lelo ia e mihi a 'a'ole ia e hana hou."
  
  The chief guffaws loudly. "E aho kahi e'au'au me ka pulu," he says.
  
  "Ae, ku'u haku," she responds.
  
  "'Ike like keia mea 'ano ia 'oe," the chief says, looking you up and down from his wicker throne. "Ma'ia paha he hoaaloha hou paha 'oe!" He laughs even louder, as if he has just told a great joke.
  
  The woman sounds disgusted with whatever it was he just said. Turning to you, she asks in English, "What is your business on Woban Island?"
  
  "I, ah, have been hired by someone to, um, conduct research." You know from past experience that native populations can be sensitive to the idea of Westerners plundering their cultural artifacts, so for the moment you feel it's best to remain cagey about your true purpose here.
  
  But as it turns out, you have no need to be coy. "Let me guess," the Auri translator says. "You're after the Stone of Vul-Kar."
  
  "Yes?" Your admission comes off more as a question, because you are hoping that honesty truly is the best policy in this situation.
  
  "Of course you are!" she says. "Why else would an American be here?"
  
  This woman's English is way too good. If you didn't know any better, you'd say she was from Michigan — like Mackinac, or someplace way up north.
  
  "If you don't mind me asking, who are you?" you say.
  
  "E hu 'oe!" the chief shouts, rising from his throne. "E ha'i mai i ka mea ana i 'olelo ai."
  
  "Ke 'imi nei keia 'Amelika i ka pohaku o Vul-Kar," the woman says to him.
  
  "Pela oe i hana ai," says the chief. "E hui pu me ia."
  
  "'A'ole hiki ia 'oe ke ho'okau i kekahi o kou po'e," she says. "Pono 'oe i kela me keia kanaka no ka kiu."
  
  "A laila noi ia ia e noho. 'A'ole malama wau i kau mea au e hana ai."
  
  The woman sighs and shakes her head. Then she steps forward, closer to you, so that you can see her more clearly in the dim light of the chamber. This person is no Auri at all! Whereas the natives have the complexion of a mild tea, the translator is as white as her Midwestern accent.
  
  "To answer your question: My name is Cynthia Bolt, and I once sought the Stone of Vul-Kar, just as you do now. But my boat sank, and I landed here. The Auri people took me in and accepted me as one of their own. I have been living here for the last year."
  
  Cynthia Bolt! While you were on the plane from Boston, Jimmy had you reading up on all the past expeditions to Woban Island, and hers was one of the first. The report was very short, though, because Bolt disappeared almost instantly upon setting off. Otherwise, despite the fact the two of you seem to work in the same profession, you've never met.
  
  "I'm glad to hear you're safe," you say. "But what do these people want with me?"
  
  "The chief doesn't really want anything. He says I can go with you to Woban Island, since that was my original purpose for coming here, or you may stay here on Auri Island as I have been doing."
  
  That last option takes you by surprise. "Why on earth would I want to stay here?"
  
  "You'd be surprised," Bolt says. "Life here is very simple, in tune with natural rhythms in a way that modern life will never be. I have been very satisfied here. But at the same time, I feel like a failure for never completing my mission, so perhaps it's time I resume my old life."
  
  You're not sure, but it sounds like you are being given the option to choose not only your fate, but hers as well. Her indecisiveness is puzzling, and it only inspires you to make your choice that much more firmly.
  
  __________________________________________________
  > remain on Auri Island and join the tribe.
  The possibility of escaping the rat race and living out a peaceful existence here on Auri Island captures your imagination in a way you never expected. It is as though something that had been sleeping inside of you is suddenly awakened, and a future that was never available to you previously has now been revealed. Diane Chambers was going to pay you two million dollars for obtaining the Stone of Vul-Kar on her behalf, but what would that money buy you other than things you will never need? And what will acquiring those useless things inspire you to do, except to desire even more stuff? It's an endless cycle of futility, and for the first time in your life you've been presented with an exit ramp.
  
  Therefore you agree to remain on Auri Island, becoming the second outsider to be accepted into the village. You are given the traditional dress of the tribe — a grass skirt, worn by both men and women — and Cynthia Bolt teaches you the local language. As it turns out she holds a PhD in lingusitics (or held one, since the actual document remains in her old home back in Minneapolis) therefore she insists you call her Dr. Bolt so long as you are her pupil.
  
  Soon you are an Auri hunter, joining hunting party after hunting party — a tradition that, like many others on this small island, is shared by all. Other than the native people, the only wildlife on the island are birds and sea turtles. It takes great skill to bring down a bird in flight with nothing more than a stone, but you accept the challenge and soon become good at it.
  
  Your civilized sense of modesty finds it difficult to adapt to the grass skirts, though, so you frequently revert back to your old adventurer's garb, which consists of polyester hiking pants and sweat-wicking shirts. This makes you stand out from all of your neighbors, though, so to atone for your non-conformist manner of dressing you decide to tackle all of the washed-up plastic that virtually rims the entire island. The refuse from the so-called developed world is a blight on this paradise, so you take it upon yourself to try and make it go away.
  
  But it's plastic, and it never will go away. At first you try and bury it in the sand, but the wind and rising tides always manage to uncover it again — and each passing storm manages to bring even more floating waste to your shores. So then you begin to throw all the plastic into towering piles on the beach, which for a short time you consider setting on fire. But that would only create a plume of putrid smoke, befouling the atmosphere of the entire island and giving everyone cancer, so your piles remain like giant idols scattered all around the island's shores.
  
  The other Auris are unable to make sense of your actions. They see you with your plastic clothes, your plastic backpack, and your plastic tent, and they see you laboring before your great piles of plastic flotsam. "Ho'omana 'o ia i kahi akua 'e," they say; "That one worships a strange god." So despite your efforts to make Auri Island a more pristine place, you never do fit in.
  
  THE END