At last I stood by the sea. It was cold, the wind stung my face, but I was not going to give up. I was determined to keep going. I sneaked aboard a ferry and hid under some seats in a cafeteria. The ferry swayed and rolled out at sea. I threw up several times but knew — because I had looked at a map — that I was almost there. The white stones in my head were now so many I could almost not count them. But time was like something I shed every morning. I simply left it behind and forced myself to look forwards.
At dawn I crept out of the cafeteria and looked for a toilet. I washed my face and looked at the person in the mirror. I only partially recognised the person I saw there. I had lost weight and had a strange rash on my face. But the biggest difference from the person I had been before were all the furrows that had been carved into my forehead. There I saw all the roads, rivers and rubbish bins that marked the miles of my journey. It was as if the map had been silently imprinted on to my face. I would never be allowed to forget.
When I left the bathroom and walked out on deck I suddenly saw a person I recognised. He was curled up under an awning in a lifeboat and he was shaking with cold. He was one of the young men who had built the ladder in the camp, one of the men who had left an hour before I was allowed to. He flinched when he saw me. I smiled but he did not recognise me. Fear shone out of his eyes. I walked over to him. The wind was bitingly cold.
‘Don’t you know who I am?’
He shook his head.
‘I was the one who climbed the fence after you had left.’
‘What fence?’
His voice was hoarse and faint, his face covered with dirty stubble. When I reached for his hand he pushed me away.
‘Where are the others?’ I asked.
‘What others?’
‘The ones you left with.’
‘I am alone. I have been alone the whole time.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Home.’
‘Where is your home?’
He mumbled something I didn’t understand. I tried to take his hand again to calm him but again he resisted, then he got up and wove down the deck. I started following him but then I hesitated and stopped. He wanted to be alone. He walked as if he were drunk, wobbling and tripping as he made his way along the deck. I saw him hide behind a chimney.
