I’m a strong swimmer. I should try to look for him. Wouldn’t I want somebody to look for me? Just as I’m about to go under the raft, I push out into the darkness, instead. It feels like I’m swimming into an abyss. I kick further into the black water. After a few strokes I stop. “Burr! Burr!” I think of what my mother said. “They’re like our own family.” I scream for him again. I yell so loudly that it feels like my throat and lungs could burst. I stop. I spit out seawater. I want to find him. But the waves are too big. I can’t do this. I turn to swim back.
Skate is swimming toward me. This makes no sense. He’s hurt. He should have stayed with the raft. “Go back!” I yell.
He looks at me the same way Landon looked at me.
Skate is scared to his soul. He even asks the same question.
“Am I dead?”
I shake my head. It’s the second time tonight I’ve been mistaken for some sort of grim reaper.
“I was on the boat, too, remember?” I explain. “I was in the bathroom.”
He looks confused. That’s when I begin to understand what’s really happening. My mind is mixing things up. This is Burr! I try to explain things better.
“I came to talk to Wick,” I say. “The raft is this way!”
“Thank God,” he says.
He swims after me, and I hope I’m not wrong. What if I’m turned around? What if they drifted away?
I wasn’t wrong. I see the raft, but because everybody is under it, it looks abandoned.
Burr grabs on to the side of it.
“Are you okay?” I ask. Which, as soon as I say it, seems like a stupid question. None of us is okay.
“My head hurts, but I’m fine,” he yells. “I can’t believe I found you.”
I don’t let this pass. “I found you!” It matters to me that he understands that this wasn’t a coincidence. I want him to know that I was risking my life out there.
I can smell the beer on his breath, but I don’t think that he’s totally drunk.
“We’re all here,” I say.
He looks at me in disbelief. I guess that makes sense, because he can’t see anybody but me.
“Where’s Skate?” he asks.
“We’re under the raft.”
I try to show him with my hand that we need to dive under the side. He nods. When both of our heads resurface in the calm pocket, I say, “I found Burr!”
“Burr!” Skate says. I feel Burr swim away from me toward the other end of the raft. Inside this pocket it’s impossible to see anything.
“Are you okay?” Burr asks.
“Yeah,” Skate says. “You?”
“I’m good.”
Everyone is speaking. We’re in an echo chamber. I focus on keeping my head at a perfect level so that I don’t swallow any more water. We take turns saying things like, “We are so lucky.” Things now feel like they’re going to turn out okay. I mean, isn’t that how some disasters end? Everybody walks away from the ordeal with wounds that will eventually heal? And then we write gut-wrenching, inspirational books about it? While at the same time we pursue amazingly demanding professions? And we’re so thrilled with our jobs and our families and our lives that we eagerly wake up every day and kiss everybody we love on the forehead? It feels like an option. At this point, a happy ending seems totally within our reach.
“How are you feeling?” Landon asks.
“Are you asking me?” I say.
“Skate,” Landon says.
“I’m okay,” Skate say.
But I know that’s not the truth. Burr should know. Somebody should tell Burr that Skate hurt his head. I’d want to know if Landon was injured. We shouldn’t be lying to each other about our physical conditions. There are rules to lying. It’s okay to lie to make people feel better. But you should never lie if it endangers somebody’s life. We should be totally honest. We need to depend on each other. I decide I should tell Burr.
“Skate isn’t okay,” I say. “He hit his head.”
“I’m fine,” Skate says. “We don’t need drama, Enid.”
I can’t believe he said that. I kick to stay afloat and unleash more truth.
“He fell coming down the stairs. He slipped. He hurt his head. And he hit the side of the boat jumping off. He’s injured.”
“Is it bad?” Burr asks.
“It’s not bad,” Skate says. “Drop it.”
“He’s good,” Wick says.
Wick shouldn’t say that. He doesn’t know for sure.
Large waves continue to lift up the raft and set her back down. We manage to stay beneath her, treading water. It feels like it’s getting darker, even though that’s not possible.
“Do you think we’ll get rescued tonight?” Munny asks.
“Dude, nobody knows we’re out here,” Dale says.
“That’s not true,” Munny says. “Burr called the Coast Guard. They know our ship sank. They’re going to come and save us.”
I think back to the breaking window. I don’t remember Burr ever coming down those stairs.
“You called the Coast Guard?” I ask.
“I did,” Burr says. “I gave them our position too. Once the wind dies down, they’ll come for us. First with a copter, then I bet they send a cutter.”
There is a happy slapping sound. I imagine that it’s Landon slapping Burr on the back.
“Good job, man,” Landon says. “You’re one helluva captain.”
We continue to bob. I can feel the presence of the bodies next to me. Even though they are frightened and cold, they seem to be giving off hope. I don’t voice my doubt. I too want to believe that the Coast Guard will be coming for us.
I don’t know how long we’ve been under the raft. It’s beginning to feel like a rubber cage. And eight animals, let alone teenagers, should never be forced to live indefinitely in a rubber cage together.
“The air is too thick in here,” Wick says. “We need more oxygen.”
He’s right. The air beneath the raft is stale, and it’s difficult to breathe.
“Let’s lift up the raft,” Dale says.
“It’ll blow away,” Landon says.
“We’ve got to do something,” Wick says.
“I say we lift it up,” Burr offers.
“That’s a bad idea,” Landon says. His voice is loud and certain.
I feel like I should agree with Landon, not only because he’s my brother, but because he’s historically proven himself to be a reasonable person under duress. “I agree with Landon,” I say.
“No. We need to lift it,” Dale says. “We could die under here.”
Nobody wants to die. Nobody wants to hear anybody talking that way.
“We should try it,” Wick says.
“I agree,” Burr says.
“Yeah,” Munny says.
Landon loses out, even with my vote. The guys decide to lift up the right side of the raft. As soon as they do, a gust of wind catches it, and just as Landon warned, flings it out of our grasp. The rubber cage flies across the water. A gust of wind hits my face. As I try to tread water, I instantly am overtaken with feelings of panic and despair.
“Shit,” Burr yells.
Burr, Landon, and Wick all start swimming after the flyaway raft. The wind continues to beat against my face. I reach out to Sov and Munny so that we don’t drift apart. Waves march over us.
“Dude, it’s gone,” Dale says.
“No it’s not,” I say, spitting out water. “You’re not even trying.”
“Neither are you,” he says.
I know he’s right, and I shut my mouth. But I’m too tired to swim after it. Sov puts his hand on my shoulder.
“It’s okay, Enid,” he says. “Do you want to borrow the life jacket?”
“No,” I say. “You keep it.”
The yellow-and-black jacket is almost too big for Sov. His head could actually fit through one of the armholes. But I think he’s wearing it correctly. It’s so sweet of Sov to offer it to me. Without it, who knows
if he and Munny stand a chance.
I turn and look at Skate, who’s able to tread water. He’s quiet and not acting like himself. I’m not sure when it happened, but the bandage has slipped off, and I don’t see it anywhere. It’s too dark to see the wound. After he fell, I was so busy trying to fix the gash that I didn’t think about how bad it was. But the cut was so deep, I could see his skull.
When Landon finally reaches the raft, they are close enough that I think I can see that the raft is upside down again. Wick and Burr reach it too, and the three of them begin swimming back to us. When they get here, we all slip under it again, glad to be sheltered from the wind. Living in a rubber cage does have its advantages.
“We all shouldn’t come in at the same time,” Dale says. “We should take turns. The air will turn to crap again.”
“We’re not sending anyone out into the storm,” Landon says.
I’m not used to seeing him be so assertive. But I’m relieved, because I think that he’s absolutely right.
“We need good air or we’ll suffocate,” Dale says. “We’ll die.”
The word die hangs in the air. Dale really needs to quit saying that word.
“I have an idea,” Munny says. “Next time the air gets thick, we can lift up the raft on the side that isn’t opposite the wind. If we do it carefully, just a little, the raft won’t blow away.”
His suggestion is followed by silence.
“Good idea,” Skate says.
These are the first words that Skate has spoken in a very long time.
“I think that will work,” Burr adds.
“If we’re careful,” Landon says.
“I don’t think that will work,” Dale says. “We need to take turns. What if one of us suffocates? It’s so dark under here, we wouldn’t even know anybody had died.” His voice is thunderous beneath the raft.
There’s a splash. Then another. Wick has grabbed Dale by his shirt and shoved him. Wick pulls Dale close to his face.
“Stop saying we’re gonna die,” Wick says. “I mean it.”
Dale pushes Wick away.
“Don’t fight,” I say. “I think it uses more oxygen.”
“We should take turns. Pick numbers,” Dale says. “There isn’t enough oxygen under here for eight people.”
“We’re not picking numbers,” Landon says. He’s moved closer to Wick and Dale. “Stay over here, Enid.”
I feel like Dale’s comment was directed at me. Because I wasn’t supposed to be here. I am taking up oxygen. “You’re making me feel guilty for being alive,” I say.
“We need more air,” Dale says.
I feel a hand on my shoulder. My whole body tightens. Then I realize it’s Burr.
“Enid, don’t feel guilty. God, you helped me find you guys. Without you, I never would have spotted you or the raft.”
This response brings silence. I’m glad Burr stuck up for me. But I can’t quite shake this sudden onset of guilt. “Thanks,” I say. “But I really shouldn’t be here.” I say that last sentence in a whisper. I try to take fewer breaths.
Landon moves to my side and brushes up against me.
“The Coast Guard will find us soon. We can talk about that later.”
I keep treading water.
“I’m so cold,” I say.
“We all are,” Landon says.
“Let’s huddle together,” I suggest.
“I can’t believe this has happened. I’m so pissed,” Dale says. He swats at the water and makes a slash.
“Get over it,” Burr says. “Enid’s right. We should huddle.”
We move together and pack ourselves into a tight circle. It helps a little. We all tread water. The waves have calmed. The sea continues to pick us up and set us down, but it’s nothing like those earlier swells. We continue to float beneath the raft. Every hour or so, we gently lift up one side of the raft like Munny suggested. It works. We’re able to replenish the air without losing the raft.
“How much longer before the Coast Guard comes?” Wick asks. “Do you really think they’ll be able to find us? We’ve probably drifted pretty far from where the boat went down.”
“They’re experts,” Burr says. “They’ve got years of experience studying drift patterns. They’ve got our coordinates. They’ll be here before dawn.”
It feels good to believe this, so I do.
“When did you call the Coast Guard?” Wick asks.
“Right as she was going down,” Burr says. “I barely made it out.”
“Man, that’s brave,” Landon says.
Nobody says anything for a long time. I think we’re all stuck on the same thought. We want dawn to come. We want to board a ship again. We’re ready for the Coast Guard. We’re ready to be safe and dry and home.
Dawn comes and there is no Coast Guard. The first glow of daylight illuminates the world through the raft. I can see everybody. We’re all here. I count our heads. Seven. I count my own head. I reach up and touch it and say the word “Eight.”
“What are you doing?” Landon asks.
“Counting heads. I’m eight,” I say.
“Okay,” he says. “Let’s get out from under here. It looks like a clear day.”
He sounds happy. Nobody has sounded that way for hours.
I lower my head into the water and surface beside the raft. Daylight touches my face, and it feels warm and hopeful. I want to close the distance, to lift myself out of the water and feel baked by the sun until I’m dry. The storm has passed. Not quite flat, the water is calmer now, absent the never-ending, towering waves.
Munny and Sov are beside me. When I look at them they smile. Reflexively, I smile back.
“We made it,” Dale says. His voice sounds surprised.
“Maybe we should try to flip the raft over,” Skate says.
I turn toward him and see the back of his head. The wound looks worse than I remembered. It’s a thick red line nestled between two white folds of skin. I want to ask him if he’s feeling okay, but I don’t.
“Good idea,” Landon says.
Skate’s voice seems to be carrying power. Maybe it’s because he’s the wounded one.
“I think that could work,” Landon says. “Let’s everybody get on one side.”
In unison, Wick, Dale, Landon, and Burr punch at one side of the raft. They coax it with their arms fully outstretched, using the tips of their fingers, until it tumbles over, slapping the ocean’s surface. Once it’s flipped, the guys turn to me, but I wave them off.
“Munny and Sov first,” I say. I’m the best swimmer here. I don’t need to go in first.
The guys help Munny and Sov into the raft first. They push them by their butts over the raft’s lip. When they land they squeak across the raft’s bottom toward an edge.
“You next,” Burr says to Skate.
Skate swings his arms into the raft and tries to pull himself up, but he can’t. He throws one leg up, and hooks it on the side of the raft. But he doesn’t have the strength to pull himself inside. Munny and Sov tug at him. Finally, the guys push him and he rolls into the raft.
“Shit,” Skate says. “It’s cold.”
“It’s the wind,” Sov says. He’s sitting on one of the raft’s inflated yellow walls, the wind carrying pieces of his dark hair over his eyes.
“You next,” Landon says.
He lifts me halfway up, and I yell for him to drop me.
“What?” he asks. “What is it?”
“It’s warmer in the water,” I say. The wind is so cold it feels like it’s biting me.
“Once you get dry, it will feel warmer,” Wick says.
Dale pulls himself up into the raft without any problem.
“You shouldn’t stay in the water,” Landon says.
“It shows a lack of survival instinct,” Dale says.
What a jerk. His comment makes me want to prove him wrong and stay in the water even longer. “I’m fine,” I say.
Everyone sits inside the raft, spaced aro
und the perimeter to help balance the vessel. It needs to stay balanced so it can ride out the small waves. The sun is visible for the first time in a long time behind puffs of gray clouds. I have my arm draped over the side and Wick is holding my hand. I don’t know why I feel so optimistic, but I’m certain that any minute I’m going to see the Coast Guard, that they’re going to take me home.
“Nobody is going to believe this,” Dale says. “We’re going to be able to sell this story.”
“Sort of depends on how it ends,” Munny said.
“I know how it will end,” Burr says.
My left arm feels tired. It starts to cramp. I let go of Wick’s hand. I switch so I’m holding the raft with my other arm.
“How’s that?” I ask. Not only am I curious, I want the distraction. Burr doesn’t answer me. Not being inside the raft makes me feel more extraneous than ever. I want to feel like I’m part of the group. My mind zooms to the e-zine again. I should not be thinking about that. It’s petty. I ask my question louder. “How’s that?”
Burr peers over the raft’s side so he can look directly at me. This gesture makes me (and my question) feel relevant, and I like that. “We’re still going to bob for a couple more hours. At some point we’ll empty our pockets and find out that one of us salvaged a candy bar. We’ll all split that. Then something will happen.” Burr doesn’t say anything else. The silence bothers me.
“What will happen?” I ask.
“I don’t know. We’ll all have to face some obstacle. And then one of us will emerge as the big hero. In every survivor story there’s always that one guy who does something that everybody says, ‘Holy shit. He was the hero.’ And then we get saved and end up on television.”
There’s more silence.
“That sounds good,” Wick says.
But I’m still thinking about what that thing is that’s going to happen.
“I wonder what kind of candy bar one of us salvaged,” Dale says. “Let’s empty our pockets now.”
“Let’s wait,” Burr says. “Let’s be mellow and hang.”
“The sun looks amazing,” Skate says.
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