Dog paddle

The water called. The ocean waves beckoned me to go. Bourbon, a cherry, and a lemon wedge muddled among sugar at the bottom of several glasses stacked full of frozen cubes lowered my judgment. All of these factors led me to a moment, a moment when amongst the revel of trombones and saxophones, my heart began to call for freedom. A moment when a folly of a man chose to make a headlong jump deep below the crazy of unkempt thoughts that had rattled free.

Touches from other passengers as they danced, the way our vessel swayed from cap to cap, the crescendo of the party around me, the unrest of my soul, the ocean's vastness, the shoulder-to-shoulder crowds, and the knowledge that there was nowhere to be alone all led to the fate that would come for me.

Thoughts of wants began to take up all the space my head had room for. A need to see the beasts of the seas. A need to see thee beast of the sea. To see a whale consumed me. Enormous and huge. Seventy feet of mammal. A treasure among the waves. Beyond my control, my crazy seeped out from my center. The buzz of alcohol from all the glasses poured down my throat helped push away my common sense as my soul began to channel Ahab aboard the Pequod.

Before the moment my feet rose from the deck and crashed down to the blanket of blue, my ears had no knowledge, that you can’t hear the screams of your loved ones from the surface of the water as they stare down at you. Nor had the awareness to know a vessel large enough for four thousand passengers could not be turned around at once.

Twenty-four hours. That’s how long they say passes before a rescue can occur. Twenty-four hours to stay afloat, twenty-four hours to safety. A stroke of luck has helped my effort. A smart passenger threw a preserver at me as the vessel moved away. Had they not, my eyes would have already seen the deepest depths below.

For a moment, my body floated helplessly, overwhelmed by the cold of the sea wrapped around my flesh. But then, just before my mouth was to go under, my arms began a desperate dog paddle. Next, all of me was suddenly consumed by a race to beat the current and catch the preserver. My hands touch on the foam of the preserver are all that have saved me, so far.

Stars above calm water, scattered clouds, and fear are my only company now. My eyes have no whale to see, just a vacant, unbroken ocean for as far as my globes can look. Below the surface, who knows what lurks? A shark, an octopus, predatory creatures to eat me. Terror and worry have never been more real.

My thoughts berate the fool who became stranded amongst a sea of blue. For a whale that would not show for the watcher on a balcony.

A touch from below. Pray you, that algae alone brushes my leg. My folly haunts me. To reason that a man afloat among open water would see a whale far more often than a dult on a vessel. But what has been done can not be changed. Regret settles down heavy on my shoulders. Shouts of anger for a fool resound from the edges of my skull.

Hours pass. Slowly. Torturously. Fate has become a cruel prophecy. Damn, the end that pulls me constantly toward the depths. Rescuer, where are you? My mouth calls out to the dark close of the day. Thoughts of my past, of days gone by, dance through the debates that argue through my head. Echos of my past haunt the sadness that overflows my heart. Slowly, ever so slowly, the sky above creeps toward dawn.

A hot yellow sun bakes down on me. My mouth stays parched. Agony stretches along dry cracks. How long... how many more moments are left? Twenty-four hours to rescue. Maybe twelve are gone. Half to go. My body may be on the bottom by then.

The empty bully of a sky above taunts me under the glow of Beelzebub's hateful sun. My muscles are exhausted, but through the ache, they know they must keep up the effort. Dog paddle, dog paddle, dog paddle. The preserver lets the salt-flavored water past my mouth but holds back the sea from a large Jonas-type swallow to take me to the depths whole. My eyes search the waves that move to a ballet of constant lulls for a shape far out on the surface. For a vessel to rescue my weary bones.

How far were we from a port? Maybe rescue can come sooner. The Coast Guard, the government of another country. Please, anyone, take me home. My thoughts are restless. They morph and fluctuate. Food, food my left arm for food. Hunger makes my stomach churn. Cramps punch blades through my torso.

The Old Man and the Sea. My heart calls for the resolve of the Cuban seamen. The ocean has become the sea creature my body, my metaphor for a boat must defeat. My head bakes under the heat of the hot summer above. My thoughts wander once more through my years and days.

Moments that have gone, moments that would come. All lost for a chance to see Ahab's whale. Even he would have seen the folly of my jump from safety to the madness below the vessel.

An afternoon sky mocks me once more as my thoughts long for the hours to pass more frequently. Troughs and swells stretch endlessly as the sea shows me no sympathy. Waves are the shapes that represent the enemy troops at my gates. Hell does not burn flesh. Hell sprays cold, brutal blue on flesh. Satan dances on the red of my face. Any tone of sound refuses to come when my mouth opens to beg for help.

Death at sea comes slowly. Part of me wants to end my torture. Faces, places, float by as my heart recalls days past. Remorse takes every corner of my soul. My hope calls out that my cared ones all know my love for them. That when my breath takes a last go they all know they have no blame to share.

Somehow, my eyes have slept, and my body has stayed on the surface. The sun falls to the west. My mouth has become a desert that lays as dry as the sands of Death’s Valley. My strength escapes. My weak croak of sound calls to the Lord to take me home. For Heaven to open her gates and accept a lamb who begs to know eternal peace, eternal rest.

Around me, the water breaks the current. A smooth dark surface appears. Fear wraps afresh around me. My heart stops. My breath catches. A whale. For a moment, just a moment, my soul feels full, and awe takes hold. Then, agony washes over me. A storm sent to pound along my shore. As rogue wave after rogue wave tells me of all that has been lost. My eyes don't want to see a whale. They long for my love, my lost love whose touch may forever always be absent. My heart breaks. Tears too dry to fall snake as ghosts down my wet cheeks.

The whale goes back below the surface to the deep of the sea. And my sorrowful soul has been abandoned below a vacant sky that hovers above me once more. A vacant ocean spreads all around me. And a vacant despondency harbors at the dock along the edge of the downheartedness that encompasses me. Hope, once felt, stretches out and runs from my thoughts. All of my dreams for rescue have abandoned me. My essence curses my hour of need. My resolve weakens. The hold my hands place on the preserver slackens. My lungs ready themselves to become full of wet salt. Death opens the ocean's black arms to welcome me to the darkness far below where the sun can penetrate.

One last breath, then the abyss. But what has appeared far off among the endless waves? A shape above the water. A rescue has come. Energy surges. How long before the vessel floats next to me? Could my love be aboard? My heart calls out from my chest for the blue of her eyes, for her touch pressed hard, for my embrace returned, for her taste, her scent.

Hours maybe even a day pass. Sleep takes my body. Doctors and nurses gather around. Vaguely, my ears hear them marvel over my health. Rest. Just rest. My love stands alone for me on a faraway shore. Consequences may come for me. But, not before my arms have had the chance to hold my love once more.

A gangplank between my rescue vessel and the dock represents the last obstacle that separates me from my love. My feet carry me to her. My lungs breathe her sweet scent. Her arms stretch around me, and my arms stretch around her. Our mouths confess our love as we vow to never leave each other for even a beat of our hearts. For a moment, we are alone, surrounded by the ocean of our love. The crowd, the press, and the cameras all fade. She encompasses me completely. My heart plunges to the depths of her, to the bottom of her sea.

My great whale, far off across the ocean waves, becomes a mere memory, to be forgotten.