When, at last, he found me. Page 8

  “Seraphin, please forgive me if I’m overstepping any conversation boundaries but the least you could do is try. My aunt said your grades were fantastic and that you graduated top of your class. Why would you want all that hard work to go to waste?” Forcing me to look at him he moved around my body each time I turned to avoid him.

  The point was valid. Knowing that my actions were irresponsible, I admitted fault. “Joseph, I know.”

  He made quite a few attempts to speak but retracted his thoughts before vocalizing. Instead, he simply offered to help. “Well, if you need anything, let me know. I’d be happy to help.”

  His sincerity took me by surprise.

  The curious girl from the cafeteria interrupted us. “Jay, we could use your help for about an hour. Could you manage to take a break from this? Dr. Radski is analyzing the photos of the carcass and some of our new recruits still don’t know lab protocol. They’re—how can I put this lightly, unsatisfactory?”

  “Perrine Canard, I’d like you to meet Seraphin Shedd.” She greeted me with her intense brown eyes. They were the color of milk chocolate. She was quite stunning and as I shook her hand and politely met her acquaintance, jealousy was stirring inside.

  “Seraphin, that’s an interesting name.” Not a nice name, I noted. I wondered what thoughts she was not speaking. No response came to mind so I remained silent.

  The three of us stood awkwardly, awaiting Joseph’s answer. It seemed like it took him longer than it should have. He finally spoke. “Can I go?”

  “Go where you’re needed.” Without as much as a ‘thanks’ they took off for the lab discussing particle samples and carbon levels. Ethan passed Joseph and Perrine. Joseph’s head turned a little as he passed and I met his eyes from across the deck. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly just barely cracking a smile as he rounded the bend and disappeared.

  The more I grew to know Joseph, the more Ms. Z echoed in my head. You never know who might end up in your life. I found it peculiar how right she was.

  I slumped down to take a break. My back was sore and the skin on my hands felt raw from the cleaning solution. My having a dislike for showing any weakness in front of Joseph had been standing in the way of my physical comfort. It was a welcomed interlude.

  Showing fault in front of Ethan didn’t matter, he had seen me at my most vulnerable moments. He never tried to console me with meaningless words, which in itself came as a comfort. After the death of my grandmother words would not have made anything better, though they did seem to make things worse. I didn’t want to move in with the Cottington family and Mara made it clear that she didn’t want me there. Hiding in my room became the norm and one night while Mara was on the phone complaining about how I had to live with them until June, Ethan knocked at my door. Reluctantly, I answered. He handed me a warm cup of tea. That action said more than any word could convey. Then I knew, as far as he was concerned, I was welcome in his home. It might have just been my imagination but I also took it to mean that he understood how impossible his mother could be. At times I felt sorry for him. He and his mother had almost no relationship.

  When Ethan sat down beside me he let out a defeated sigh. We stayed shoulder to shoulder. I gave him the same courtesy he gave me many months ago and asked him nothing. Instead I leaned my head against his shoulder and felt his headrest on the top of mine. Together we sat for nearly half an hour. I realized that somehow Ethan Cottington had come to represent family. He was, after all, the closest thing I had to a relative. I didn’t know how he felt about me and would never ask, instead I was content with the way I felt about him and assumed his feelings were similar.

  After watching sea gulls defecate all over the once clean deck, I went back to work. The rest of the day I didn’t see Joseph. Ethan came to chat often throughout the late evening and into the night. A few times he even helped when I was barely holding on to consciousness. It seemed like every time the John F. Kennedy hit a wave I had to fight blacking out. It helped that he knew I was frightened and in his own quiet, unemotional way, he took my mind off of the fact I was standing on the deck of a ship out in the open sea. At one point he even gave me his headphones and I listened to his play list. The music held my attention, redirecting it from the looming waves.

  I returned to our cabin around midnight. Exhaustion inhabited my body and my mind. Expecting to see Joseph sleeping, I was careful not to make any loud noise, though once in the cabin, I realized he wasn’t on his cot. It made me curious that I hadn’t seen him, considering the John F. Kennedy was rather small. Earlier in the evening, when I went to the lab for a spill clean-up, he wasn’t there either.

  I stripped down to my tank top and shorts. My clothes were filthy and I was hot and sticky with sweat. The skin on my fingertips felt like it was on fire from having my hands in cleaning solution. My thighs hurt from squatting down to clean the deck and my lower back hurt because I was lifting buckets of water with my back and not my legs, contrary to what the illustration on the side of the bucket so clearly told me to do. The worst part about it was that in a few hours, I was going to have to wake up and do it again.

  When I finally put my head to the pillow and started to drift to sleep, footsteps and muted voices outside the cabin door pulled me awake. The knob on the door turned but it was locked. It made me realize that I never gave him a key.

  Then there was a gentle knock.

  “Seraphin, let me in.” Joseph whispered.

  Crawling out from under the thin covering, I moved slowly. It was warm in the cabin and the cool cotton of the sheet felt nice. It was a bit aggravating to move my body since it had found such comfort. After unlocking the latch and opening the door, I waited for him to step in. Thrown over his arm was the green MOLE shirt and he wore only his shorts. No shoes were on his feet. Goose bumps covered his skin and his hair was dripping wet.

  A big smile crossed his face. “I hope you didn’t wait up for me.”

  “I didn’t.” I hurried back to the cot, my body trying desperately to be content again. “Where have you been? Did you fall in?”

  He didn’t answer. With his back to me he took a towel from the shelf and began to dry off. I tried to make sense of the tattoo on the nape of his neck but could not. Before I could ask about it he began his own line of questions.

  “How did your evening go?” Asking in a hushed voice though I wasn’t sure why. “Did you and Ethan have a nice time?”

  “A nice time? This evening was exhausting.” I didn’t lie. “Ethan was a huge help though. He kept my mind off of things.”

  Turning to face me and leaning against the wall, he folded his arms. “By what means did he use, to keep your mind off of things?” His voice was almost mocking.

  Though I wasn’t certain, I sensed a tinge of jealousy. Or perhaps it was just an endearing tease but regardless; I wasn’t in the mood to entertain either. “If you’ll hit the light when you’re through, I’d like to get some rest before breakfast.”

  Before he could respond I turned over in the cot, facing away from his curious gaze.

  “Alright.” Mumbling, the light turned off and the room went black. “Sleep well Seraphin.”

  “Mmhmm,” I mumbled back. “G’night, Joseph.”

  The cot shook as he jumped up onto the top bunk. He was quiet for some time and I had begun to doze when he whispered. “Are you sleeping?”

  My mind was slipping quickly into a restful state so I didn’t answer him.

  He waited a few moments and then asked a second time, “Seraphin, are you sleeping?”

  Again, I didn’t answer.

  Climbing off of his cot, I felt him standing beside me. He drew the air in deep, letting out an almost painful sigh. Barely audible he spoke. “I wish I could stay.”

  Then he mysteriously left.

  Resisting the urge to follow him, I knew I had to focus on sleep. The boat gently rocked and soon I drifted into a deep slumber.

  My mind attacked with a horrible nightmare
. One I had before.

  His voice was soothing but his words were alarming. He repeated himself, “Seraphin, you have to go. They are coming, they know we’re here.” Everything was black except for a small light at the end of the tunnel. I held Joseph tight as he pleaded. “You have to go. Please go.”

  I was too afraid to cry and too stubborn to let him face the oncoming danger alone. Something horrible was approaching, or was it someone? Loud sirens began sounding and the closer they came the louder they were. The light was moving toward us. At first the noises were slow and dreadful but they grew faster and out of control. The light twisted into quick flashes of color spinning.

  Joseph yelled to leave but I wouldn’t. I knew we had to face this together.

  EIGHT

  Terror ripped through my body and it escaped my lips in the form of a scream.

  I woke. Red lights were blinking and sirens were sounding on the John F. Kennedy. Someone was pounding at my door and shouting. “PHIN, WAKE UP. YOU HAVE TO GET OUT OF THERE.” It was Ethan.

  Opening the cabin door, I found him wearing a life vest. Water dripped from his face. His white t-shirt was so wet that the skin on his arms showed through.

  I wanted to shut the door and crawl back into the cot. The nightmare I was having seemed like a fairy tale compared to what reality was presenting.

  The gentle rocking ship had turned into a violent carnival ride. The floor began to tilt. Ethan wrapped one arm around me, holding onto the hallway rail with the other. The panic in his eyes was unforgettable.

  The walls seemed to shift around us; reminiscent of the children’s crooked fun house at the Bar Harbor annual fair. Ethan held me close as we slowly crept through the creaking hall. Our bodies moved from side to side as the boat churned. Each step was a fight for balance. When I lost mine and was thrown into a wall, Ethan did his best to shield me from the impact.

  The sirens were too loud. I had trouble comprehending what he was saying. He had to yell several times before I understood. “YOU NEED A LIFE VEST. THEY ARE IN THE MAIN CABIN.”

  Why did I need a life vest? Was it naivety or just denial? I wasn’t sure, but the thought of the John F. Kennedy sinking didn’t enter my mind until that moment. It took seconds for the magnitude of the circumstances to consume me. My head grew lighter and, according to Ethan, all the blood drained from my cheeks. Seeing my face turn completely white caused him to panic.

  Violently shaking me was the only thing he could think to do. “FOCUS! I CAN’T HELP YOU IF YOU BLACK OUT.”

  It was true what he said. There was not a lot he could do for me once my body went limp and my mind escaped to the past. I needed to help him, help me.

  Ethan continued shouting. “PHIN, FOCUS! FIGHT IT!”

  My eyes locked with his, they were Mara’s eyes and I hated them. Anger swelled inside me and I focused, but not on the boat or the ocean. Instead I focused on Mara Cottington and how she would blame me if anything happened to Ethan.

  I had to save him. I could almost hear Mara’s voice telling me I was weak.

  “I am not weak.” I said but the sirens were so loud, Ethan couldn’t hear me. All that mattered was that I heard and believed myself.

  We wrapped our arms together and continued fighting forward. As we approached the stairs leading to the deck I could feel the cause of our distress. An enormous squall was overhead. My thoughts turned to the girl Joseph spoke of. He said storms were not always bad. That didn’t seem possible. There was no way to put a positive spin on the storm that hovered over the John F. Kennedy. My mood grew increasingly angry. I was angry with Joseph for not being there to save me, though I wasn’t sure why. I was angry with Mrs. Keyes for not showing up for crew call and forcing me on a sinking ship. I was angry with Mara Cottington for the blame she would place on me if anything happened to Ethan.

  Pure and simple, I was angrier than ever before. However, I was also more aware of my existence and the possibility that those moments could very well be my last. And, I was conscious. For the fist time in many years, my mind stayed on.

  Rain pelted our faces. Water was pouring over the railings with each wave that hit but I fought. Pushing in front of Ethan, I became his protector. He yelled but I ignored. Finally, he lined his body behind mine, allowing me to take the lead.

  As we emerged from the stairway, an enormous tidal wave emerged from the ocean. The John F. Kennedy was under its crest.

  “HANG ON.” I screamed to Ethan, pointing at the wall of water. We wrapped ourselves around the railing. The powerful wave crashed. Water surrounded us and panic showed itself. I quickly blocked my thoughts, instead recalling my new purpose. I focused on Ethan who looked to be struggling. The life vest was too thick, preventing him from gripping. His arms slipped down the wet slick metal. Letting go, I shot across the stairway just in time to grab the fabric handle on the back of his life vest. His body skimmed the surface of the water as it washed down the hallway below us. I held onto Ethan tighter than I knew possible.

  The ship cleared the rest of the wave, allowing us a small window of calm. We stepped onto the main deck but instead of moving upright, we moved on our hands and knees. Thunder crashed as lightening flashed across the night sky. The door to the main cabin was with in sights. Ethan pointed. I responded with a nod of my head, letting him know I understood. Inch by inch we crawled across the deck. The wood was wet and slippery; sheets of water ran across my knees and wrists. The closer we came to the main cabin, the nearer to the side of the boat we were. Ethan pointed to the ocean. Again I nodded, letting him know I understood we were dangerously close. The door was only about 6 feet from us. I tried to keep my focus on our destination but when a large crate full of equipment began sliding, I had to turn away. It was headed straight for Ethan.

  My pace quickened. Ethan turned in time to see me position myself in front of the crate. It hit me full force. It hurt so badly.

  “SERAPHIN, NO!” Ethan screamed.

  The weight of the crate was too much and the deck was excessively slick. It threw me against the guardrail. My back slammed into it, and the crate trapped my feet. Trying to hold on, my fingers were too small to wrap around the thick railing. My eyes met Ethan’s; he was so close to the door. Knowing what he was thinking, I shook my head and pointed to the main cabin.

  He shook his head and began to rise off of his knees. Balance would not let him attempt a rescue though. The water pulled back, the stern of the John F. Kennedy followed. Ethan was thrown onto his rear end, sliding through the open door to safety.

  Relief flowed through me knowing that my original purpose was fulfilled. Ethan was unharmed.

  I, on the other hand, was in quite a predicament. Trying to wiggle my feet free was not possible. The crate was too heavy. Thankful that my legs were numb but concerned with how much damage had been done to them, I made the mistake of bending forward to see. My center of gravity was lost and as the vessel righted itself, momentum was gained.

  The crate slid away from my feet. No longer pinned, my legs were free. I righted myself but with nothing holding me in place and nothing to grab, I was exposed to the whims of the ocean.

  Another wave, like a gigantic hand, pulled itself high above the boat.

  The John F. Kennedy tipped forward again.

  Foot above head, I flipped over the railing. In the blink of an eye, I was washed into the raging sea.

  Screaming.

  Screaming.

  Gasping.

  I sank under the water and had to fight to the surface. Only seconds later I was pushed under. Again, I had to fight to the surface.

  The sirens of the John F. Kennedy were softer.

  Ethan was leaning over the railing.

  NO!

  Someone came and pulled him back. Relief filled me. Ethan would not be diving in. He would get home safe.

  Would I get home safe?

  Screaming; all I could do was scream. Raising my arms in the air seemed futile, but I did it anyway.

&n
bsp; The waves seemed to carry me further away from safety; from life.

  A helicopter hovered over the John F. Kennedy. They looked like toys rising and falling with the waves.

  There was movement on the opposite side of the boat. Someone dove into the water.

  Maybe it was the rescue swimmer? No. The bright white strobe light, attached to the rescue swimmers jumpsuit, flashed on deck. Did they know I was in danger? I continued to scream, still fighting.

  The night grew dark. Lights from the rescue helicopter moved further away. I was alone.

  My legs, as well as my arms held no feeling. With a raw throat, I held back the useless screams. After so many years of trying, the water finally had me. Grabbing at the surface with my frozen fingers, it offered me nothing to cling to. With little hope for life, I took one last breath.

  A furious wave, like the bully it was, pushed me under. Even if I had the strength to swim, I didn’t know where the surface was.

  It was dark.

  It was quiet.

  It was an uneven match.

  I prayed. Please God, let me be with my father. I miss him dearly. Amen. Closing my eyes, there was no difference in the darkness. Warmth filled me. It was peaceful. The most peace I have ever felt.

  I let the air go from my lungs. Bubbles tickled as they left. Goodbye air.

  Something brought me back. My ears rang loud. Then a voice called to me. Seraphin, stay with me.

  The ice cold of the water returned and I longed for the warmth of giving up.

  The voice, again, Seraphin, do not breathe.

  My lungs longed for oxygen. The involuntary impulse of needing to breathe took over. If a person can live their life never knowing such a desire they should consider themselves blessed. No longer could I resist. Gasping, I flooded my lungs.

  Burning. Vehement burning. The pain was harsh. I wanted death. Only death would stop the pain. Suddenly, I could feel my legs. Though, I wished I could not. They were smoldering with ache.

  Panic struck. My legs were stuck in something slimy and warm. The sea was black. I could see nothing. Or could I? Someone was swimming but it was too late, death grabbed me before he could.