SWIM Book 1 (Complete three-hundred pages)

Day 49.5 Saturday, January 6, 2016

Brett said it first:

"What's it gonna be?"

The question was rhetorical, and directed at Craig directly, because Brett knew George would listen to Craig—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 exhaled, in deep thought. He looked over the gray horizon. . . it turned silver as the sun behind the dark clouds and thick mist rose through the sky. His hand suddenly squeezed mine, and I didn't know he had even 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 no doubt starving family. I wondered. How were they even alive? I almost considered to be imagining the whole thing.

But finally Craig looked up, and nodded. "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 Craig. Why? Why couldn't the boys just bring the boat directly up to the family?

But Craig answered my question instantly. The reason was fear. "We can't risk them all jumping onto the boat at once. And we don't know if they would try to remove us from the boat and take it from themselves."

What a ludicrous thought. Maybe the mother and father would want to ensure their childrens' safety, but they wouldn't go so far as to turn to violence, not if we were here to save them!

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. . . At least it's something."

And the George was surprised at the agreement, and a bit concerned. I could see his 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 and Craig looked at Brett, gesturing him 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 over the side of the boat, and the blackened water splash over the side.

The water stunk on my face, and as I listened to Brett make his sacrifice of health to save the family, his splashing journey moved further and further into the distance.

I looked over the side, 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 desperate plea-- "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 from Brett who 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 sped quickly away. I looked over as Brett leapt onto the family's floating housing platform.

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 remember the trail back to him.