Saturday, January 6, 2016
W
hat's it gonna be?" Brett asked George, oar still in hand.
George, who was surprisingly indecisive at this moment, looked to Craig for insight.—Craig had survived a burning fire and managed to take all the food and the neighbor's boat with him before the whole building burned down. Craig was smart and tough. George might have thought George would listen to Craig.
Craig exhaled in deep thought. He looked over the gray horizon, which turned silver as the sun behind the dark clouds and thick mist rose through the sky. Craig's hand suddenly squeezed mine, which made me realize he had been holding it all this time. I must have been numb with thought, as I watched the three of them make their decision, and I listened to the heartbreaking cries of the undoubtedly starving family. How were they even alive? I wondered. I almost thought I was imagining the whole thing.
But finally George made a decision. He said to Brett, "You get 'em. We'll bring the boat at a safe distance from the family, and you'll have to swim back and forth for each family member."
I wanted to furl my eyebrows in confusion at George. Why couldn't the boys just bring the boat directly up to the family? Something seemed fishy about George's plan.
But George answered my question instantly. The reason was Fear: "Firstly, we can't risk that family jumping onto our boat all at once. Secondly, we don't know if they would try to attackus and take the boat for themselves."
What a ludicrous thought. Maybe the mother and father would want to ensure their children's' safety, but they wouldn't go so far as to turn to violence, not if we were here to save them! Plus. . . we could take them easily in a fight.
Brett studied Craig's face with confused scrutiny. But then, looking over Brett's shoulder to see the family across the way as they waved and cried out for deliverance, Brett exhaled in a message, "Whatever you say, George. . . As long as we help them."
George seemed surprised by Brett's willingness to agree. I could see the discomfort on his face as he turned on the motor and sent the boat turning toward the family. Brett and Craig cleared heavy debris with the wobbling oars until the boat reached halfway to the family.
Then, George stopped the boat halfway and gestured at Brett to begin his hero work.
George took off his shirt and pants so as to keep them dry as he swam to the family. His muscles shivered in the freezing air. A gust of wind moaned over the ocean, and with a single look at me, he turned and leapt off the boat. The blackened water splashed.
The water stunk on my face, and as I listened to Brett make his sacrifice of health to save the family, his desperate journey moved further and further into the distance.
I peered over the edge and watched him make it toward the other side. At that moment, I truly saw Brett as a super hero. Not just for his muscles, but for his stoicism. His courage. His caring heart.
He was a good man. Which was why I wanted to kick and scream and even kill George when I heard him whisper in a eager request to Craig-- "Time to go."
I shot my eyes at him with horror as he received a definite nod from Craig, who quickly jumped up and pushed debris out of the way and helped turn the boat in the opposite direction. Brett was far away and still making his swim to the family.
Next I heard a terrified roar of screams from the family as George kicked on the motor and the boat fled. I looked over as Brett climbed onto wooden slabs of the family's floating house.
I wanted to raise my hand to Brett and scream to him. His eyes met mine as he stood tall. Knowing he did the right thing. . . But that it wasn't enough.
They were gone from my vision. And in my emotional turmoil, I forgot to memorize the trail back to Brett.
But I couldn't scream. I couldn't protest. It was him or Jack. And I would wait as long as I had to for the right moment to take this boat around, and go back to the bay house.