Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men (19 page)

“It’s that or die out here,” Jon said from his roost along the starboard side of the cockpit. He hadn’t moved from there all day.

“Even if I could somehow unclog it, I’m not sure it even works anymore.”

“But you don’t know, do you?”

“No.”

“Then it’s simple. Keep trying.”

“I don’t see you down here helping.”

“I’m not the reason we’re stranded out here.”

“I can help,” I said, even though the thought of being under a boat hull terrified me.

“There’s no point,” Darrel said. “We’re not going anywhere. Our only hope is getting someone on the radio.”

We all looked over to Breccan, who was standing at the front of the ketch holding the handheld.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’m not sure this thing even works.”

“We should have made contact with someone by now,” Jon said. “It’s not like we’re trapped in the Bermuda Triangle.”

“The Bermuda Triangle’s one of the busiest shipping areas on Earth,” Darrel said.

“And you’re the biggest piece of garbage I’ve ever been stuck on a boat with.”

“I can take over with the radio,” I said.

Breccan nodded. I think she was glad to have a chance to get away from the cockpit.

I spent twenty minutes talking to no one on the handheld before Darrel told me to take a break. We’ve got plenty of diesel we no longer need for the dead engine, but I guess if we don’t get into the habit of conserving power we’ll run out sooner than we think.

I sat down beside him, on the opposite side from Jon, who was still staring out over the water.

“It’s getting cold,” I said to no one specific.

“Summer’s over,” Darrel said. “And we won’t be able to turn on the heater tonight.”

“That’s okay. Breccan and I have gotten used to not having air conditioning in our apartment. Frostbite’ll be a nice change of pace.”

He smiled at me.

I felt bad for Darrel. He’d wanted to show off to a few classmates, maybe trick me into bed with him, and now he had to sit around feeling guilty. He was not the first person to get in way over his head. It’s like those people that get lost in Death Valley, getting their car stuck in the middle of the desert. They wanted to go on a nice little adventure with their kids and their GPS unit, but then all of a sudden they were on their way to dying of thirst.

Five days ago my shoes and socks were soaked from stepping in a puddle on Spirit Lake Trail. Now I’m as thirsty as I can ever remember being.

If it doesn’t rain soon we’ll die the same way they die in Death Valley. We’re surrounded by water we shouldn’t drink, our bodies slowly shutting down from thirst.

It might be better to drown myself first.

FRIDAY - Four Days Adrift

I DON’T
know if the radio’s broken. I don’t think there’s any way to know for sure.

But I do know that we’ve been trying to get help on it for four days now, and we’ve gotten nowhere.

SUNDAY - Six Days Adrift

DARREL TOLD
us a story today about a motorcycle that had washed up inside a shipping container on Graham Island; he says that the currents are bringing everything from Japan to the West Coast, so it’s only a matter of time before we wash up back along the BC shore.

I’ve taken the lead with the rationing. We’ll have enough food for six more days if we stretch it out as much as I’ve planned, but that isn’t the worst of our problems. We don’t have enough water to make it that long.

There’s a rule we all know, not from being pre-med but from watching a lot of cable TV. It’s 3-3-3: three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food. We’ll be out of water by tomorrow.

MONDAY - Seven Days Adrift

I WOKE
up late and found that the water wasn’t the only thing gone. Someone had taken the rations out, and there was no way for me to know whether they’d eaten all of them or just hidden them somewhere on the boat.

I didn’t have the energy to tear the place apart. And I didn’t know who’d done it.

“You’ve fucking killed us,” Breccan said to Darrel over a lunch of nothing. We were all in the salon hiding from the chill outside.

“We’re not dead yet,” he said.

“Well you’ve stranded us and stolen all of the rations,” Jon said. “So you’re doing a good job of it so far.”

“Nice try. I’m not the one who took the rations. I’m not stupid enough to eat all of our food in one sitting. I only know one person on board who’s dumb and fat enough to do that, Jon.”

They were looking at each other the way you’d expect two guys to look at each other a couple seconds before they beat each other half to death, but they were both too exhausted to do more than stare.

That was a clue in itself, really.

“One of us took the rations,” I said. “There aren’t any raccoons on board. And I know it wasn’t me.”

“We don’t know it wasn’t you,” Breccan said.

“Are you kidding me?”

“I’m just saying. There’s no proof.”

“I was asleep.”

“How do we know you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night to steal them? Maybe that’s why you slept in.”

“There’s no way Steph did it,” Darrel said.

“You wanting to fuck her isn’t proof that she’s innocent,” Breccan said with a smirk.

I decided that I had enough energy to handle that. “You’re a real bitch, Breccan,” I said. “Just shut up while the grownups talk, okay?” I leaned across the table towards her, trying to show her just how ready I was to slap her upside her head.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Jon said, doing his best white knight impression.

“Or what?”

“I’m serious.”

“Everyone needs to shut up,” Darrel said. “We’re not getting anywhere with this.”

“That’s because you stole the rations,” Jon said. “So just admit it so I can start kicking your ass.”

“The toothpaste,” I said. “I put it with the rations.”

“So what?” Jon said.

“No one’s brushing their teeth these days. I’ll bet whoever took the rations smells like the rations.”

“That’s a good point,” Darrel said.

“Let’s smell your breath, then,” Jon said.

Darrel leaned over and blew a gust of air across the table. It smelt of rot. Considering the situation, I was glad he stank. It’s pretty bad form for the captain to eat up all the food.

“I haven’t eaten since yesterday,” he said.

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t take the rations,” Jon said. He huffed over at Darrel, then turned and gave the same huff to me. The same bad smell.

“You’re both clean,” I said. “You know, like, figuratively.”

“So it’s a stupid idea,” Breccan said.

“Your turn, Breccan,” Darrel said.

“This is ridiculous.”

Darrel leaned in towards her. “Come on.”

She gave out a little puff.

I could smell it from across the table.

“Toothpaste,” I said. “So you thought you’d cover up the smell of the food with something else that’s gone missing?”

“I was hungry,” she said. “Gawd.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Darrel said. “You really did eat all of the rations?”

She nodded.

“Even the fucking oatmeal powder?”

She nodded again.

The way that Darrel looked at her made me wonder if he was about to hit her. But he sighed and turned to face me.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said.

“We’re out of food,” I said.

“No. She’s the problem.”

“Oh. So we should eat her.”

“This isn’t funny,” Jon said.

“It kinda is,” I said. “The damage is done. She ate the food. So let’s figure out what to do next.”

“That’s not good enough,” Darrel said.

“What’s not good enough? You want to give her a spanking?”

“We’re all going to die anyway,” Breccan said. “What does it matter?”

She had a point.

“Let’s just try to cool down,” I said. “Let’s take a break here, and maybe we’ll come up with something after some time apart.”

“Fuck this shit,” Jon said. He climbed up to the cockpit, preferring to freeze rather than stay with us. He’d always liked Breccan, and now he knew her well enough not to.

“We still have to deal with her,” Darrel said.

“Just drop it,” I told him. “There’s no point.”

“I’m sorry,” Breccan said.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to tell her.

She laid down in one of the bunks and covered her head with a blanket.

I stayed at the table, as did Darrel, but I think we were both trying not to notice each other.

The food isn’t really the problem. We need rain. Rain by Wednesday, Thursday at the very latest. And then, if we’re lucky enough to get the water... then we’ll need food.

I know we could last a few weeks in theory on water alone, but there’s no way that would work in real life. The only person on this boat who doesn’t have a mortal enemy is me... at least I don’t know of anyone who wants me dead. And we won’t make it to the end of the week without eating; someone is going to lose control.

Hell... it could even be me.

I heard Jon call down from the cockpit. He was calling for me.

I climbed up into the cold and wet air. He was pointing up at the sky, toward the sun.

“I saw a raven,” he said.

“A raven? Out here?”

“We must be near land, right? It’s not like ravens are sea birds.”

I thought of Edgar, and of Paul. I thought of the beautiful island from what might be my last day on dry land. Ravens need the land, too.

“You’re right,” I said, almost with a smile. “We must be near something.”

“Binoculars.”

“There’s a pair in the salon.”

“I can go.” He put his hand on my shoulder, as though we were friends again.

He climbed down the steps.

I waited up top and wished I hadn’t. We’d all planned for the rain, but I don’t think any of us had expected so much cold.

Jon came back up with the binoculars, and started looking out toward the East. He moved his head from side to side in a wide arc.

“I can’t see anything,” he said.

I held out my hand and he passed them over to me. I took my own look and saw nothing but the ocean. I couldn’t see Vancouver Island. I couldn’t see anything but the waves. If we were drifting towards the coast it felt like we should have been seeing something.

But what about the raven?

I looked up in the sky, and soon I found it, circling us like Edgar had circled us on Hotspring Island. The raven looked just like him, but since all ravens do, that didn’t really tell me anything.

I remember reading that some seabirds fly out to see when it's time to die. I wonder if lonely Edgar came out here to end it all.

"I knew it," Darrel said. I hadn't noticed him climbing out to the cockpit. "We'll make it to land. We just need to hold on."

"We should try the handheld again," Jon said. "Maybe we're close enough to raise someone."

"Good idea."

Seeing them cooperating made me think the world must be coming to an end.

"The handheld's still down in the salon," I said. "I'll grab it. Don't kill each other, alright."

They both grinned. It was the kind of optimism that just had to be foolish.

I climbed down to the salon and grabbed the handheld off the table.