Mr. Henry scooted his way back across the busted-up boat and leaned against his part of the jagged side, massaging his mangled leg.
Shy rubbed his eyes again, trying to make sense of what had just happened. But he was too cold and hungry to think straight.
He sat there for a long while before he realized something important. He was going to die, too. Sure, he’d last longer than Mr. Henry, but how much longer? Would he and Addie survive long enough to find the islands? To be rescued? Would they live long enough to see home again? And what if they no longer had a home to go to? What then?
He glanced across the boat at Addie. Her arms wrapped around her legs, eyes closed. Her whole body shivering in the cold. The oilman’s eyes were closed now, too.
Shy was alone.
He stared up at the glowing moon again, and he listened to the whispering ocean. His thoughts were more staticky than before, but for the first time since the summer started, he felt like he understood the ocean’s whispering. It all came down to this. The darkness. The loneliness. The mystery. The fact that everyone’s days were numbered, and it didn’t matter if you were in premier class or worked in housekeeping. Those were only costumes people wore. And once you stripped them away you saw the truth. This giant ocean and this dark pressing sky. We only have a few minutes, but the unexplainable world is constant and forever marching forward.
Shy felt nauseous from the realization, like he’d been shown something humans weren’t equipped to see.
He pushed off the side and quietly moved across the boat to Addie and sat down next to her, slid his arm around her shoulders so they could share body heat.
She opened her eyes and looked at him.
Her chest moving in and out with each breath. But she didn’t say anything. Neither did he. And eventually she leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes and fell back to sleep.
Day 5
35 Unexpected Good-Luck Charm
Shy woke up the next morning to the sound of his own chattering teeth, and he was surprised to find himself holding Addie. Her eyes were open, too, and he followed her gaze down the boat to where the oilman slept, except the oilman was no longer there, only his empty life jacket.
“What happened?” Shy said, struggling to his feet.
“I don’t know,” Addie said. “I woke up, and he was gone.”
Shy sloshed through the ankle-high water to the life jacket, picked it up, looked over the side of the boat. No sign of Mr. Henry. He remembered the strange conversation from the night before. The hug. He must’ve known all along that he was going to throw himself overboard.
Just like the comb-over man.
When Shy saw how upset Addie was, he dropped the life jacket and made his way back to her, saying: “At least he doesn’t have to suffer anymore. You saw how bad it was getting.”
“I know,” she said, rubbing her temples. “It’s not just him, though. It’s everything. I want to go home.”
“So do I,” he said.
As Addie looked up at him, Shy noticed how much thinner she looked than when they’d first met on the Lido Deck. And her hair was a blond, tangled mess. Her face sunburned and peeling. For the first time since the ship went down, Shy wondered what he looked like, how much his own appearance had changed.
Tears started spilling out of Addie’s eyes and running down her cheeks. She brushed a few off and said: “We’re not gonna make it, are we, Shy?”
The look on her face killed him, and he leaned over and patted her shoulder, awkwardly. “Listen…,” he said, but then he trailed off. He wanted to say something important, something reassuring, but nothing like that came to him because it wasn’t true.
“All I know is this,” he finally said. “We’re gonna spend the day paddling. Same direction as yesterday. And I’m gonna catch us a damn fish this time. You hear me, Addie? Even if I have to dive my ass in there and choke one out with my bare hands.”
He thought she might smile at that last part, but she only nodded and looked to where Mr. Henry used to sit, wiping more tears from her face.
The sun climbed slowly into the cloudless sky, warming the air around them. Shy’s hands were blistered, and his back and shoulders ached. He had so little strength now, he could only make the boat creep forward a little at a time with the oar. But he kept working. And he kept thinking about Mr. Henry and Addie’s dad, and he kept remembering the man in the black suit, Bill, asking all those questions in the Luxury Lounge and then hurrying away from Carmen’s cabin after the ship alarm went off. There was something he wasn’t understanding, something bigger than just a man jumping overboard. But his mind was too slow to put it all together.
After a few hours, they switched places. Addie took the oar without a word, and Shy moved to the back of the boat, and when he bent down to rebait the hook, he felt something scratch his upper thigh. He glanced down, expecting to find some kind of ocean bug biting him. Instead he found a small bulge in the pocket of his jeans and reached his fingers in for it. He was shocked at what he pulled out.
The oilman’s seven-carat diamond ring.
He stared down at the massive diamond, then glanced at Addie, who was already busy working the oar.
The guy must’ve slipped the ring into Shy’s pocket during that weird hug. It was probably the reason he hugged Shy in the first place. Shy dropped the fishing line and moved toward the edge of the boat. He held the ring over the side, thinking he should drop it in, let it float down after Mr. Henry. He didn’t want someone else’s ring. Didn’t matter how big the diamond was. That kind of shit didn’t matter out here. Plus, what if someone discovered them in the boat, long after he and Addie died. They’d probably think he was a thief.
But he couldn’t drop it.
Couldn’t let go.
“It’s been two days,” Addie called out, startling Shy so bad he almost dropped the ring by accident. “And we still haven’t seen anything.”
He slipped the ring back in his pocket and turned around, saying: “We will.”
“No, we won’t,” she said, throwing the oar at the floor of the boat. “This is a waste of time. We’re probably going the exact opposite way.”
Shy scooped up the baited hook and sloshed his way to the front of the boat. “What do you wanna do, Addie? Give up?”
“I want to go home!” she shouted.
“So do I,” Shy told her. “What do you think we’re trying to do?”
Addie sat down in the boat and covered her face with her hands, but she didn’t cry. She just stared at the water inside the boat.
Shy reached down for the jug of water, uncapped it, held it out to her. “Feeling sorry for yourself isn’t gonna help you survive.”
“You think I don’t know that?” she said, snatching the jug out of his hands. “God, you’re like the worst person to be stuck with.” She took two baby sips of water and handed it to Shy, who did the same. After re-capping it, he held the jug up to see how much was left. About an inch high at the bottom.
Addie was looking at the same thing.
Their eyes met for a second, but she quickly cut away and reached down for the oar, then she stood up and turned away from him and dug back into the ocean.
Shy moved to the opposite end. He cast his line back into the ocean, wondering why he didn’t want to tell Addie about the ring.
He’d only been standing there ten minutes, max, when he felt a sudden tug on the line. He grabbed it with both hands and stood up straight to look over the edge of the boat. There it was, deep below the surface, a thin yellow fish caught on his hook, jerking to get away. He got a rush of energy and started pulling in the line, fast as he could.