Grayson
The helicopter overhead may be another hallucination, a side effect from too much seawater. However, when I swim to the life raft, it smells remarkably like rubber. Also, it’s real enough to pull myself over the side, swing up a leg, and land flat on my back. Then, I stare up at the blue sky. Above and to my left, the pilot gives me thumbs up and a loudspeaker blares about fuel but I can’t be sure over the flop-flop of the rotating blades.
Okay, this must be a dream because Isabella is there and holds up Skye to the window. They both grin as if I was leaving for work, not being rescued from a tsunami. Slate doesn’t look as good, but still, smiles ear to ear. There’s the kid who taught us to climb and his grandmother, too.
Everyone’s just waving and smiling.
Jesus.
All I need is a cowardly lion and Toto.
Exhausted beyond measure, I close my eyes, and pray not to wake up in hell.
When I come around, a small boat bounces on the waves and a young sailor reaches a hook which grabs the ropes on my inflatable bed.
Another man, also dressed in blue with a bright orange vest, comes aboard my raft and opens a knapsack. “Mr. Patten?”
I nod, throat still raw from seawater, and frankly, I’m still not comfortable speaking with my mirage.
“I’m Dr. Veejay, Coast Guard medic. Are you hurt?”
I shake my head no and rasp, “Just waterlogged.”
When I show him my pruney fingers, the brown man chuckles, nods at the first boat, and a motor starts up. Soon we’re dragged to a white ship with big black letters and a red stripe. Two more sailors drop a ladder over the side and help me climb onto the deck amidst cheers from the rest of the crew.
A bit choked up, I try to smile as a woman in a white uniform briskly steps forward. She’s about fifty, the bars on her shoulder indicating rank.
“Welcome aboard. I’m Captain Quint.”
Pumping her hand, I smile. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the lift. Was my wife really in the helicopter that found me?”
She nods. “She offered a million-dollar reward for anyone that found you. Insisted the helicopter pilot start searching the minute he picked her up off the island.”
Dr. Veejay brings forth a wheelchair and I decline. Again, the crew cheers, the captain slaps me on the back, and I’m ushered to sick bay. There, I’m given a slew of antibiotics in an IV drip.
As the doctor examines me, a seaman in blue hands me a phone while shaking his head, “This woman has been on hold for over an hour and refuses to hang up.”
“Grayson? You there?” Isabella’s sweet voice chokes me up. I thought I’d never hear it again.
“Yeah, babe. It’s me.”
“Oh, thank God.” When she sobs, my eyes sting as well.
“Don’t cry, Izzy. I’m fine.”
“I know, I know. It’s just so good to hear your voice. I thought I’d lost you.” She cries some more while I console her and wish she were in my arms.
It was so close.
“Listen, I got to go. They need the airwaves. They’re taking me to Miami. I’ll be there real soon. Okay?”
“Wait. How are you? Broken bones? Anything serious? Should I have a surgeon standing by?”
“Stop, stop. I’m fine. Just a few cuts and bruises. I’ll be home before you know it.” Suddenly I remember Slate and although it’s fuzzy, I’m pretty sure he was shot.
“Did I see Slate in the helicopter with you?”
“Yeah. He’s in the ICU, recovering from surgery.”
“Skye?”
“She’s in the pediatric ward. Don’t worry, she’s fine. They just wanted to give her some antibiotics. I’ve been alternating between floors, checking on them both.”
“Okay, the seaman here says I need to stop hogging the phone. Lots of people are still in the ocean and need their help. Tell Cherry to call my man Oliver to help fund the rescue effort in whatever ways we can.”
“I will. I love you so much.”
“Me, too. Give Skye a big kiss for me.”
“Thank you.” I hand the phone to the man with his hand out.
Hearing her voice, knowing she and Skye survived without hardly a scratch when so many died, amazes me.
What are the odds we would have someone on the island to teach us to climb a tree, that there would even be a tall enough palm? That I would have the satellite phone on me and it would work?
Again, I mutter a prayer to God and ah, I guess to his son. Not sure what the protocol is when it comes to religion but I want to cover all my bases.
I got quite a lot of scratches and need stitches but my skin is too water logged, or so I’m told. Instead, I’m slathered in antibiotics and covered in bandages. I look a lot worse than I feel.
Dr. Veejay flashes a small light into my eye and stares. “Do you recall what happened?”
“I was on top of a palm tree, on a private island off Nassau and was hit by a tree going over a hundred miles an hour. Well, actually first I was hit by a tsunami, then by a tree. I rode the crest of the wave and held on to the trunk until a helicopter spotted me.”
His brows raise. “You habitually climb palm trees?”
“No, never.”
He scratches his beard and scribbles something down in his tablet. “So, how did you manage?”
“We had a local kid with us on the island. He showed us what to do. Saved our lives.”
“Most fortunate. You seem to have a lot of good luck, Mr. Patten.”
“Uh, I think it was more than luck. The Big Guy who’s in charge upstairs decided I was worth saving. We had quite a long conversation about it in the ocean while I waited.”
The doc’s brows crease, his mouth turns down, and he starts to type with his thumbs. “Did uh, He talk back?”
“Well, I was rescued when thousands weren’t. I guess that was answer enough.” My eyelids get heavy and I yawn. In my dream I float amongst dead bodies with sharks circling under my feet and Isabella overhead, frantically waving.