The Boating Accident

Black Abyss

The sky had settled on a color, Dementor Gray, and the sea accented the choice with a bold flooring of Black Abyss. Boats appeared like new furniture. One stained-wood vessel displayed a yellow and blue Swedish flag. A large tour boat ironically promised tranquil waters, and a yacht bullied its way onto the scene. Like a junky family heirloom no one dares get rid of, their Bambino was noticeably the wimpiest ship.

The bobble-head pony ride teased toward its mark as Star worked the pole to thumping Miami hits blasting from the radio. Amid the involuntary gyrating, she noticed Hector was the only stationary object on the boat; he seemed almost asleep, hunched in his tan hat, quietly peering through binoculars at the race point while the world throbbed around him.

The boat swayed hideously with each wave from the wake of larger ships knocking them around. The horizon went up and down, up and down, up and down like a maniacal see-saw.

The ocean pumped with vessels all vying for position in a race to view the actual race. Other radios clashed. Captains tried to control their boats in the violent swells as passengers flailed, shouting conversations and sipping drinks around each bump and jarring jolt.

Star grabbed the pole tighter and could feel calluses form. Adrenaline set in. Would they keel over? What then? Her crazy dad was always taking her on these kinds of adventures in whatever weather happened to be brewing.

But something stranger than waves moved in the water near the race sails. A serpent-like stream of glistening pulsed. Could it be a mirage? Star wasn't delirious from scurvy, not yet. She blinked and it was gone.

"Did you see that?" she nudged Hector.

"Soddy?" The binoculars were glued to his eyes.

"Surrounding the racers. A circle of light." She pointed.

"Here, ju try these," Hector offered the binoculars and Star reached for the strap, then fumbled with the complicated lenses to focus on the crimson octopus sail. The sleek vessel still struggled but the water around it was black like the rest of the ocean.

"Must have been the light playing tricks on the water." The sun brightened for a second and then the clouds swooped over again. She handed the binoculars back.

"Never underestimate the power of water," her dad said. It was the same thing he had told her when she was little and got sucked under the rip tide: following a sparkling lightness deeper into the ocean; swallowing waves of salt that slammed her down; surfacing to yell only to get knocked back below; tumbling in slow motion until she whammed into the sand; clinging to James as he carried her to the warm beach.

There it was again - the silver circle meandered in the waves. But unlike before when she'd seen it around the racers, it wasn't far in the distance. It slithered steadily from the race area toward them and pulled her in, like a rippling hypnotic charm. She wanted it to come to her, to surround her in light, to drown in its depths.

"Whoa, what the- " Captain Luis shouted, breaking her trance.

Royal Flush cut too close.

Time slowed under pressure. They were suspended in animation as something horrific flashed. Luis turned to get away from Royal Flush, but she swung hard. Bambino thrashed as her nose headed straight into the polished wood hull.

Her captain shouted and waved his arms from the helm. "Get that thing away from my boat!"

Luis was straining with "that thing" as passengers called out helpful suggestions. James smiled. This was exactly the kind of white-knuckle adventure he'd hoped for.