Living Legends

13) The Adventures of Oliver

Oliver closed his eyes and forced himself to take slow, calming breaths.  His fingers were shaking as he slowly stepped up to the deck.  The sun nearly blinded him.  His hand instinctively flew up to cover his eyes.  Ow.

            He stumbled towards the railing and waited until his eyes grew adjusted to the brightness.  He watched as smiling, chatting passengers were rowed away from The Queen Francis towards the island.  Am I really about to do this?

            He swallowed nervously and took a cautious step backwards.  The easiest thing for him to do would be to turn around and go right back to his cabin.  He wouldn’t show his face until the passengers gathered in the dining cabin for dinner.  Or he could take the courageous route and stick to his plan.

            Follow Hayley.

            “Easier said than done,” he muttered to himself.  Though this wasn’t the first time he had been on a boat, this was the farthest he had ever been from home.  He wasn’t exactly a fan of traveling.  But as soon as Hayley had said she was going on a boat trip, he felt horrible for not saying what he should have said right then and there.

            Oliver squeezed his eyes shut and forced the memory away.  What’s done is done.  I’m just a stuttering fool in Hayley’s eyes.  I shouldn’t have rushed down to the harbor and watched her board this boat.  I shouldn’t have followed her.  But his instincts had been too much handle.  He was a lonely college student with no friends and a family that lived hundreds of miles away in Maine.  I should have known I never had a chance with her.

            Now, watching Hayley’s glossy brown hair whip around her shoulders as she glided across the open sea, he felt a sudden surge of bravery.  He still had a chance.  This wasn’t over yet.  He just had to get on a rowboat and follow her to that island.

            “I’m gonna die,” he squeaked, slowly edging towards the line of passengers boarding the remaining rowboats.  He must have looked pale and clammy, because when one of the crew helped him off the boat, he grabbed Oliver’s arm and asked, “Sir, are you alright?”

            Oliver managed a quick nod, but it didn’t seem to convince the sailor.  Oliver was given a wary look and a polite nudge into the rowboat.

            The trip to the island seemed to take hours.  Every bump and rough patch of water made Oliver want to heave.  He had spent most of his time on The Queen Francis in the head, vomiting or worrying about his poor planning.  He hadn’t even brought even clothes to last the entire trip—only two shirts, one pair of shorts, some Airwalks and a junky sweatshirt.

            Oliver wished, more than anything at that moment, to back in his dorm room.  It was an adventure going to Florida for college by himself, for Pete’s sake.  But now he was on a tourist boat in the middle of the Caribbean chasing a girl who didn’t even know he was following her? It was absurd.

            “Sir?”

            Oliver snapped back to reality.  He realized another of the crew was tugging on his sleeve, waiting to help him out of the rowboat.  “Sir, we’ve reached the island.  Would you mind stepping out, or do you want to return to the boat?”

            Oliver licked his chapped lips and mumbled a few words of apology.  He stumbled out of the rowboat, nearly face-planting into the sand in the process.  He gathered his wits and swept the shore for any sign of Hayley.