Page 54 of Adrift

“Oh,” Zane replies. “I have an idea.” We’ve drunk three bags of water so far, but Zane has carefully folded each one of them. We use them with the desalination kit too. He slices one down the back and opens it. Then he takes an extra support and makes a loop around the bag. It looks like the little practice toilet Steven’s niece had. Sort of, kind of. Okay, not really.

“That’s awesome. Thank you.”

“We can turn around and give you some privacy. Right, Easton?” Zane nods at him.

“For sure.” Easton nods. Calvin’s busy with Moby Dick on his line.

I do what I have to do, then wiggle my yoga pants back up again.

Somehow, when I thought about what it would be like to be on a life raft—because of course I’ve thought about it—I never imagined boredom to be the toughest part. I ease over to the other side of the raft and open the toolbox. We have four more hooks. It makes sense why Calvin doesn’t want to lose any. But how much longer can the big guy last? The sun in the middle of the sky says noon. And he’s been at it for a long time. How long have I even been awake?

I’m just about to suggest he cut the line and save his muscles when Calvin grunts, “There he is.”

“What is it?”

“A tuna. Not legal size, but I think we get a pass. Two feet. She’s put up a good fight, but she’s almost done. Get the knife, Zane, and don’t cut the raft.”

It’s Zane who growls this time, “Right.”

I’m clear of the action and ready to throw a towel over Dante if they get too close.

Zane leans over the edge of the window. Calvin reels, pulls, reels, and pulls some more.

Zane’s got most of his body hanging over the edge of the window. “She’s a beauty. Just a little more.”

Calvin pulls.

“Got her.” Zane’s ready, and he stabs the fish. The flipping stops. He pulls her on board.

Calvin guts the fish and puts all the pieces into the bailer. Luckily, the sponge cleans up most of the mess. The light gray sponge is now a dull red color, but we each have a large portionof raw tuna to gnaw on. And it’s not bad. The flesh is firm and full of flavor, and if I close my eyes and pretend I’m not in a boat... well, I’m still not in a sushi restaurant, but I’m not hungry and there is more to eat, at least for the next few hours.

We eat our fill.

“Thank you, Calvin.” He’s slumped against the side of the wall of the raft, and I kind of want to pull out his bear to show him. But I also don’t want the guys to know I have it. And that he gave it to me. I hate secrets, but this is one I should keep for now. It’s literally resting on my heart. Or rather, under my vest. “I don’t think I could eat any more.” I glance at the bucket of blood and guts and skin overflowing one of our two bailing buckets. “What are we going to do with that?”

“We’re going to have to chum the water with it at some point. We have to put it somewhere. Now is the best time. The water is silent, and its daytime, so we can at least see the predators as they come to claim their prize. Are you ready?”

My heart is beating at a thousand flutters a minute. Sharks shouldn’t scare me so much. It’s a big fear from early childhood. In reality, there are a lot of scarier things in the ocean, from killer whales to pirates. But it’s the great white shark that’s the most terrifying to me.

“Ready?” Calvin picks up the bucket.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready. “Are you sure we have to dump the bucket?”

The guys turn to me.

“Are you scared of sharks?” asks Zane. “Because there are other things that might go after the remnants of our lunch. Eels and other fish too. Plus, it might be nurse sharks or other non-aggressive ones. And this is going to get stinky.” Zane is kind enough to reach for me. But I’m already on a downward spiral. My insides are shaking. I can do this.

“I don’t like them.”

“They’re not going to go into a frenzy. There’s not enough chum for them to go into one. Barely a snack,” Zane reassures me.

But I don’t want to know what’s going to happen; I just want it over with. I can imagine the worst: a shark biting the raft. That’s ridiculous. They have no reason to bite the raft. This is real life, not a movie I watched in my grandparents’ basement on their old video player. I’m not going to let this be what makes me crack. I’m not going to let these guys think of me as anything but tough.

“Ready,” I say.

“If it bothers you, we can paddle away from the chumming area.” Zane smiles.

“No, that’s okay. We should save our energy.” The raft is warming up, and if we took the top off, it would be worse. At least now there is a little breeze flowing through the raft.

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