The Stranger in the Lifeboat(2)

Nothing was too strange to roll in with the tide. But a raft from the Galaxy? That would be a major event. The huge luxury yacht had sunk last year, fifty miles from Cape Verde off the West African coast. It made news around the world, mostly because of all the rich and famous people who’d been on board. None of them were found.

LeFleur rocked back and forth. That raft didn’t inflate itself. Maybe the authorities were wrong. Maybe someone had survived the Galaxy tragedy, at least briefly.

“OK, Rom,” he said, snuffing out his cigarette. “Let’s go take a look.”





Sea





“I am the Lord.”

What do you say to that, my love? Maybe under normal conditions you laugh or make a wisecrack. You’re the Lord? Buy the drinks. But alone in the middle of this ocean, thirsty and desperate, well, it unnerved me, to be honest.

“What did he just say?” Nina whispered.

“He said he was the Lord,” Lambert scoffed.

“You got a first name, Lord?” Yannis asked.

“I have many names,” the stranger said. His voice was calm but husky, almost hoarse.

“And you’ve been swimming for three days?” Mrs. Laghari interjected. “That’s impossible.”

“She’s right,” Geri said. “The water temperature is sixty-seven degrees. You can’t live in that for three days.”

Geri is the most experienced sea person among us. She was an Olympic swimmer when she was younger and has that take-charge tone—confident, curt, intolerant of stupid questions—that makes people pay heed.

“DID YOU FLOAT IN SOMETHING?” Nevin yelled.

“For Christ’s sake, Nevin,” Yannis said, “he’s not deaf.”

The stranger looked at Yannis when he said “for Christ’s sake,” and Yannis closed his mouth, as if trying to suck the words back in.

“What’s your real story, mister?” Lambert said.

“I am here,” the stranger said.

“Why are you here?” Nina asked.

“Haven’t you been calling me?”

We glanced at one another. We are a pathetic-looking lot, faces blistered by the sun, clothes crusted by salt water. We can’t fully stand up without falling into someone, and the floor smells of rubber, glue, and vomit from our retching. It is true, most of us, at some point, thrashing in the waves that first night or staring at the empty horizon in the days that followed, have cried out for divine intervention. Please, Lord! … Help us, God! Is that what this new man meant? Haven’t you been calling me? As you know, Annabelle, I have struggled with faith much of my life. I was a dutiful altar boy, like many Irish kids, but the church and I parted company years ago. What happened with my mother. What happened with you. Too much disappointment. Not enough comfort.

Still, I never considered what I would do if I called for the Lord and He actually appeared before me.

“Is there any water you can share?” the man asked.

“God is thirsty?” Lambert said, laughing. “Great. Anything else?”

“Perhaps something to eat?”

“This is foolish,” Mrs. Laghari grumbled. “He’s obviously playing games.”

“No!” Nina yelled abruptly, her face contorting like a denied child. “Let him talk.” She spun toward the man. “Are you here to save us?”

His voice softened. “I can only do that,” he said, “when everyone here believes I am who I say I am.”

No one moved. You could hear the smack of the sea against the boat’s sides. Finally, Geri, who is too practical for talk like this, surveyed the group like an annoyed schoolteacher.

“Well, buddy,” she said, “you let us know when that happens. Until then, we better adjust our food rations.”



News

REPORTER: This is Valerie Cortez, aboard the Galaxy, the spectacular yacht owned by Jason Lambert. The billionaire businessman has assembled some of the biggest names in the world for a weeklong adventure, and he’s here with us now. Hello, Jason.

LAMBERT: Welcome, Valerie.

REPORTER: You’ve called this extravaganza “the Grand Idea.” Why?

LAMBERT: Because everyone on this ship has done something grand, something to shape their industry, their country, maybe even the planet. We have technology leaders, business leaders, political leaders, entertainment leaders. They’re big-idea people.

REPORTER: Movers and shakers, like yourself.

LAMBERT: Well. Ha. I don’t know about that.

REPORTER: And you brought them together for what reason?

LAMBERT: Valerie, it’s a $200 million yacht. I think a good time is possible!

REPORTER: Obviously!

LAMBERT: No. Seriously. Idea people need to be around other idea people. They spur each other to change the world.

REPORTER: So this is like the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland?

LAMBERT: Right. But a more fun version—on water.

REPORTER: And you hope many grand ideas come out of this trip?

LAMBERT: That, and some quality hangovers.

REPORTER: Hangovers, did you say?

LAMBERT: What’s life without a party, Valerie? Am I right?





Sea