Saturday, January 6, 2018

A

s I looked up at the rain, I remembered the time I played the Cowardly Lion in the first grade for the musical Wizard of Oz, I distinctly remember my favorite part being the moment I got to use the long rain tube, a huge cylinder with rice beads inside. Flipping the tube upside-down made the rice beads shuffle down the filters hidden within the long tube, and the sound of rain sprang from its chambers. I thought the sound was the most magical creation ever concocted on purpose. Rain—in a hollow pipe! I closed my eyes as the rain fell on me now, and I imagined a sky full of rice tubes, singing down on me with promises: You will not lose him. You will never lose another person you love, for as long as you live.

I inhaled in the cold air, and exhaled warmth. Craig blocked the rain from my eyes, so I opened them and tried to look over the edge of the boat as best I could, to catch a glimpse at the different debris floating in the water, so I could remember my way back to the bay house.

I spotted objects like a green stroller with black wheels hanging off a strip of wiring that jutted out a leaning block of cement. I caught a glimpse of a chandelier pressed atop a transparent screen door clipped between a spliced bathtub and the empty white frame of a patio table missing its glass cover. A flag of Obama's face wavered in the air from a sinking pole. Near it, a BMW floated in the water, with two tires somehow aligned over the windshield, making the car look like it had eyes.

A purple crib and pink bath towels collapsed under the weight of a pile of chimney bricks. A mesh gate covered an entire stretch of televisions with cracked screens.

All the inanimate objects were somehow meaningless now that their owners were gone. But to me, they were my bed crumbs back to Jack, to Travis, and maybe to that little kitten, too. As the time passed, however, I started to wonder how long it would take for me to get my chance to turn this boat around.

Maybe we'd find a place to get off the boat and rest, and then I could take the boat. Or I could just wait for the sun to go down so the boys will fall asleep. Or maybe I'll just need to push them off the boat myself. . .

But for us all to survive this tragedy together, until we made it back home, if we still had a home, remained my priority. I didn't believe in triage. I believed in saving everyone. No matter what.

The selfish gene may be strong in time of survival and stress, but it wasn't strong enough in me, not yet.

I was still unable to talk. But finally, somebody said something. I looked over, as did Craig and George—at Brett, who had suddenly stopped pushing debris out of the boat's path and caused George to stall the motor.

"Wait," said Brett, deep in thought. Something clearly bothered him.

"What?" George said. His eyebrows furled.

Brett turned to all of us, lifting his chest, and said, "We need to go back."

My heart lifted with hope. Maybe I wouldn't have to be the one to turn this boat around after all.

Under the pressure of the falling rain, Craig and George looked at each other and then at Brett, before Craig said, "We're not going back, Brett. You can swim back if you want."

But Brett furled his eyebrows and raised his chest higher. He raised an oar and said, "I'm not swimming. Either you fellas get out or you're going back with me."

But George nearly shouted, "Over my dead body! Get back to pushing debris out of the way or we're gonna have to fucking kill you, Brett!"

My heart instantly pounded. George would never actually kill anybody, would he? He wasn't that desperate to get back home. At the same time, Craig seemed to forget about blocking the rain from my upturned face, and the acid rain bombarded my eyes.

Suddenly George grabbed for the other oar and Brett and George looked as though they were preparing for a violent duel.

George shook his head with fury and warning—And suddenly Brett looked at them both with rage, then turned his eyes at me, as if to ask the question--

"Who do you want to live, Zara? George and Craig? Or Travis and Jack?"