22. Chumming
Chapter 22
Chumming
Haley
“ O h, I’m so sorry.” My heart’s slamming in my chest. When Zane screamed, Easton’s giant dick jumped into my cheek. I can’t believe I left drool on the owner’s son. That’s a definite line, and I’ve crossed it. It reminds me of kissing the captain.
My heart squeezes, and I want to vomit. Sam. He can’t be dead. Rationally, I understand. I understand why he stayed on the boat. Without the location beacon online, we would drift here forever. I sit up. But we should have stayed tethered, letting him join us when he could. Yes, there was another raft, a raft he could get in the water in five minutes. Less, knowing how talented a captain he is.
The back window and front window are down. A slight breeze is flowing through the raft, but I’m dripping with sweat.
“It’s fine, Haley. I’m happy to be some sort of help.” Easton adjusts himself, and I look away.
Calvin is pulling on the fishing line, expertly letting line out and reeling it back in. The reel is basic, one you could buy at any box store. But the way the tip is dipping, I’m wondering if what he’s caught is too big for the gear. Calvin has it in hand, though. The tug and pull, the fight—I loved fishing when I was little. When I told my grandmom I was going to work on yachts instead of going back to college so many falls ago, she replied, “Makes sense.”
Weird, I miss her so much, but right now, I’m glad she’s gone. She would have been mad with worry.
Dante looks the same as yesterday. He hasn’t moved. I brush his hair back from his face, and Easton checks his pulse.
“It’s a little better than last night, when I checked it last.” He smiles at me.
Calvin and Zane are taking up most of the other window. I shimmy on my butt to them. My skin sticks to the floor. It’s not comfortable, but I guess comfort isn’t the point—surviving is.
The waves are silent today, but my stomach isn’t. When the guys finish fishing, I should get the desalination kit going. It’s slow, and we’ll need to have it running because the kit only has water for four days.
There’s nothing around. No Rock Candy , no other life raft. Nothing for us to see. Just the swells of the waves up and down, up and down, taking us wherever it wants to go. I know nothing about the currents here, but off the coast of Florida, there are currents that can carry a small boat in a circle. And a half mile away, you could get stuck in the Gulf Stream and end up zipping up the coast.
“I’m getting it. It’s tiring.” Calvin’s determined. The muscles in his biceps are flexing, like their own Morse code.
“Do you want me to take a turn?” Zane’s light brown hair flaps around. It doesn’t brush his vest, but it’s close.
“No.” Calvin juts his jaw out, and he’s bracing his arms on his knees. Reel, brace, reel, brace. And as he does, the raft is going zipping along with the creature caught on Calvin’s hook. The tip of the rod dips farther, and Calvin releases slack on the line.
“How big is it?” Easton pipes up behind me, and I’m glad it’s him and not me asking because I want to know too. But I also know better than to talk to a fisherman while he’s reeling something in.
“Damn if I know, Swimmer Boy,” Calvin grits out between reeling and releasing.
I’m biting my lips when I glance at Easton. He doesn’t seem offended by Calvin. No, we’re all invested. But it’s the peacemaker in me... I want them to get along. Even if we weren’t on a raft together, I’d still have the same feelings. I don’t want people to argue or fight. I’m more liable to do something I don’t want to do just to make others not fight around me. It’s why I stayed with Steven for so long, even though I had evidence of him cheating.
Zane sits on his haunches. “Who has their phones with them?”
“I do. Why?” Easton pulls his out.
“I have mine too.” It’s in my bra, beside Calvin’s bear. I turned it off before I fell asleep.
“Damn. Is that one of those long-life battery packs?” Zane motions to Easton’s phone.
“Yeah. I hate running out of battery.” Easton nods. “I turned my phone off this morning, though.”
“Good. Can you turn it on now for just a second? I want to airdrop some charts.” Zane motions. “I’ve only got twenty percent left. The charts might come in handy. I’m a nerd, and at night I like to look at the ocean chart of where we are so I can figure out where to take guests fishing or if there is anything interesting to see. Since Rocky wanted to go deep-sea fishing, I downloaded a bunch.”
“Yeah, go for it.” Easton turns his phone on.
Calvin grunts. His arms flex holding the reel.
“Got them?” asks Zane.
“Got them.” Easton turns off his phone and puts it back inside his vest.
Zane stares at his phone, sighs, and turns it off.
“Girlfriend?” Easton asks.
“What?” Zane runs his fingers through his hair.
“You were sighing at your phone. I thought maybe it was a picture of your girlfriend.”
Zane laughs. “I guess, in a way. It’s a boat for sale back in Fort Lauderdale. I thought I’d have enough money to buy it after this cruise. And now, well, either we’re out of work or we’re?—”
Easton cuts him off. “Don’t say it.”
I hold in a shaky breath. “You’re upset about a boat when the captain died trying to save our lives?”
“Ho, ho, wait a minute there, Haley. We don’t know that the captain died. He might have gotten the system running, and he could be in the third life raft right now. You’ve got to have some faith. The worst thing doesn’t always happen.” Zane places his hand on my knee.
And I have to laugh, because really? “We’re sitting in a raft in the middle of the ocean.”
“Positivity can make a situation a lot different.” Zane nods at me. “I don’t suppose that’s one of those satellite phones?” He cocks his head at Easton.
“No, I’m not a serial upgrader. That’s my dad’s habit.” Easton looks at his phone.
“Could you figure out where we are on the charts?” I raise my eyebrows at Zane. If he wants positivity, I’m not sure I can give it to him. But I can change the subject. I’m a pro at avoidance.
“Not yet. I’m writing our headings every hour, though. I need something to chart off of.”
“Where are you writing it down?” I ask.
“There’s a small notebook and a waterproof pen in the box.” He pulls it out, and there’s a list of directions and speed. “Calvin did it overnight.”
I’m not sure why this makes me feel better, but it does. He hands the notebook to me. Zane’s writing is tiny, messy but legible. The notations overnight, in Calvin’s handwriting, are more like a typewriter. They are so precise I find it hard to imagine they came from a human hand. “Are we still going the same direction?”
Zane checks the compass. “Yes. But we’re getting there a lot faster with whatever Calvin’s got on his line.”
“Too bad we didn’t find an aquatic horse to tow our line yesterday. We might have caught up with the others.” I drape the towel on the support behind me. It’s damp from picking up the spray yesterday.
Hours go by. I don’t want to talk or think. But nature is calling me and she’s not going to wait. I’ve noticed both Easton and Zane sneaking over to the opposite side of Calvin.
Zane takes the reel from Calvin, and a while later, he passes it back.
Nothing about this is going to be graceful. Or easy. And I’m not sure what I should do.
Zane makes another trip to the window. “Sorry,” he says to me when he sits back down.
“I just need to figure out how to do that myself.”
“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 portion of 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.
Calvin leans out of the raft and drops the chum in a quick blast. Red spreads from it in a much bigger circle than I would have thought.