Epilogue

"I understand now," was what I coughed to Moo. Half dead, splashing to the surface, I pulled myself painfully to shore at the feet of my loyal friend. "I understand everything," I repeated, in answer to her knowing, "about time" moo. Gulping down breaths, I limped sluggishly toward her.

"It's all coming together," I told her, the two of us walking into the woods. "When I was down there, drowning in the deep, I kept thinking about how everything had come full circle, about endings and beginnings and how they're one and the same."

By this point we'd made it over to where the sheep family was grazing. "Everybody, gather round," I announced. "I've got something important to say." Of course they didn't listen, but did it stop me talking?

"Keep going," I began. "That was the first lesson I learned here, and now it'll be the last." I took a moment to let my words sink in. "I have to accept that I'm at the end of one adventure and at the beginning of another. I've got to keep going. I've got to leave the island."

Before they could say anything, before they could pretend to not care by turning away to eat, I added, "No, no, hear me out. Like I said, I understand now. In fact, I've understood for quite a while. It's that gnawing feeling I've had since finishing the second house. It's why I've been acting so crazy since then. I didn't want to admit the scary truth."

"Which is?" mooed Moo.

"Which is," I answered, "that after working so hard to create a safe space to answer the really big questions, I realized that the answers to those questions can't be found in a safe space."

I gestured out to the horizon. "They're out there in the unknown."

"Baa," asked Rainy, as the sheep family all looked at me.

"Good question. Hopefully there's more land, more people. Hopefully I'll be able to find my way home."

Moo let out a soft, sad "moo." And that's when my tears came.

"No, you're right," I said through the lump in my throat. "This is my home, too, and I'll carry its memories in my heart, because even if I don't find the answers I'm searching for, it's the searching that really matters."

There it was, the ultimate lesson of this world.

"I struggled so hard for a goal, without realizing that the goal is the struggle. It's what makes me stronger, smarter, and better. Growth doesn't come from a comfort zone, but from leaving it."

—

A week later I had packed up everything I needed for a long voyage. Food, tools, a compass, and a yet-to-be-filled map. I made sure the garden was well-tended, and that the house would be ready to accept a new visitor.

That visitor, as you well know, is you. I hope you find my house comfortable, and if you want to build a basement music studio, I've left you the book, along with all the other manuals, in my bedroom. This book that you're reading was the last item in the last manual I found, a combination of sugar-paper, leather from Moo's late partner, and ink from the squid I killed way back but couldn't find a use for. Figures.

These will be the last words I write before walking down the hill to my boat, before saying goodbye to my beloved friends. Please treat them well. Friends keep you sane.

I don't know what's waiting beyond the horizon, but now I'm ready for a bigger world. Maybe I'll meet the authors of the books I've found. Maybe they'll be castaways like me. Maybe they've intentionally left those books to help future travelers with their journeys, the way I'm leaving this book for you.

I hope what I've learned helps you find your way. Most of all, I hope you've learned that in this world of mines and crafting, the most important thing you can craft is you.