two of us raised in the air over his head, like a five-year-old holding an ice cream cone. Wyn and I are squished into each other. Full frontal togetherness, with our arms pinned to our sides.
Awkward doesn’t even begin to describe how this feels to me. Wyn, on the other hand, seems weirdly at ease. Comfortable enough to crack jokes.
“So how do you like the view?” he asks, trying to keep a straight face.
I can’t help it. I burst out laughing. “Do you mean the one of the ocean or the two tiny freckles near your ear? Because if you’re talking about the freckles, I think they’re a divine enhancement. Let me guess: you used a ‘buy one get one free’ coupon at the Freckles Emporium?”
Wyn makes a face. “I’ll have you know my avatar is one hundred percent me, right down to the very last freckle.”
Larry does a little twirl in the water now, like a ballerina, and I look over my shoulder to see where we’re headed.
“See that little isle in the distance?” Wyn says, pointing with his chin.
I nod. A small dome of land rises in the middle of the crystal blue water, its sandy white beach topped by lush green palm trees.
“That’s where we’re going. It’s where I keep all the good stuff stashed.”
A few minutes later Larry is reluctantly setting us ashore. Wyn picks up a fallen coconut from the beach and waves it at the kraken. Larry’s bulbous eyeballs grow even bigger as he swims back out a few yards, his tentacles waving in anticipation. Wyn heaves the coconut, which Larry catches expertly.
“My turn,” I say, and pitch two more.
Larry juggles the three coconuts like a circus clown while Wyn and I whistle and hoot in appreciation. Finally, Larry pops the coconuts in his beak, waves goodbye, and sinks back under the sea.
Wyn motions me to follow him. We head up the beach until we get to a break in the palm trees, then take a path carved through the vegetation. After a minute we reach a clearing and I bark out a laugh.
“You built a treehouse?” I say, shaking my head at the elaborate construction in front of me. It looks like something straight out of Swiss Family Robinson or Gilligan’s Island, every kid’s childhood fantasy.
Wyn looks half embarrassed, half proud. “It was my first custom creation in the MEEP. I’ve always wanted a treehouse, ever since I was little, so I decided to make one for myself.”
“Well done,” I say, admiring the multilevel open-air architecture. “Rustic, yet charming at the same time.”
“Wait until you see the waterfall shower in the back. Come on, I’ll show you around.”
We go up and down a dozen ladders, slides, and rope bridges—slowly, since Wyn has to do everything one-handed—and peek into a dozen different rooms. We finally end up on a platform high above the tree line.
“This is where I like to sleep,” Wyn says, pointing to a big woven hammock strung between bamboo poles.
“Under the stars—I should have known,” I say, admiring the view from this bird’s-eye perch. The entire island is surrounded by a ring of brilliant white sand and sparkling blue water beyond that. In the distance I see a pod of dolphins cavorting.
Wyn opens a cabinet and pulls out a first aid kit. The kit contains a dozen small bottles lined up in a row like colorful soldiers. He selects a green potion and holds it to the light. “This should do it,” he says, and glugs it down. Then he holds his mangled hand out in front of him and together we watch it shimmer and waver. Then, pop, it takes proper shape again. “Just like new.”
“You don’t happen to have any ‘beam me up, Scotty’ potions or ruby slippers in that cabinet, do you?” I ask, only half joking.
Wyn shakes his head. “Sorry. I never even used to keep healing potions here, but once I started playing with Larry, I figured it was a good idea. Especially after the one time he hugged me a little too hard.”
I let out a snort, remembering the anaconda that nearly squeezed me down a few dress sizes. “I suppose a hug from Larry could crack a rib or two.”
“Exactly. After that I decided to keep some potions on hand in case it happened again.”
“And what’s this?” I ask, picking up what looks like a remote control sitting on top of the cabinet.
“Ah,” says Wyn, taking it from me. “You’re going to love this,”