The Stranger in the Lifeboat(4)

I can only speak for myself.

No, I do not.





Land





LeFleur drove the man called Rom to the north shore of the island. He tried to make conversation, but Rom answered with polite deflections: “Yes, Inspector” and “No, Inspector.” LeFleur eyed the glove compartment, where he kept a small flask of whisky.

“You live up by St. John’s?” LeFleur tried.

Rom half nodded.

“Where do you go liming?”

Rom looked at him blankly.

“Liming? Chilling? Hanging out?”

No response. They drove past a rum shop and a boarded-up disco/café, with turquoise shutters hanging loosely off their hinges.

“What about surfing? You do any surfing? Bransby Point? Trants Bay?”

“I don’t care much for the water.”

“Come on, man,” LeFleur laughed. “You’re on an island!” Rom looked straight ahead. The inspector gave up. He reached for another cigarette. Through his rolled-down window, he glanced back at the mountains.

Twenty-four years before, Montserrat’s volcano, Soufrière Hills, erupted after centuries of silence, covering the entire southern part of the island in mud and ash. The capital was destroyed. Lava smothered the airport. Just like that, the nation’s economy evaporated in dark smoke. Two-thirds of the population fled Montserrat within a year, mostly to England, where they were given emergency citizen status. Even now, the island’s southern half remains uninhabited, an ash-covered “exclusion zone” of abandoned towns and villas.

LeFleur glanced at his passenger, who was tapping annoyingly on the door handle. He thought about calling Patrice, apologizing for this morning, leaving so abruptly. Instead he reached across Rom’s chest, mumbled “Excuse me,” and popped open the glove compartment, removing the whisky flask.

“You want some?” he asked.

“No, thank you, Inspector.”

“Don’t drink?”

“Not anymore.”

“How come?”

“I drank to forget things.”

“And?”

“I kept remembering them.”

LeFleur paused, then took a swig. They drove in silence the rest of the way.





Sea





Dear Annabelle— The “Lord” has not saved us. He has worked no magic. He’s done little and said even less. He will apparently be just another mouth to feed and another body to make room for.

The wind and waves kicked back up today, so we all squeezed for shelter under the canopy. This puts us knee to knee, elbow to elbow. I sat with Mrs. Laghari on one side and the new man on another. At times I brushed against his bare skin. It felt no different than my own.

“Come on, ‘Lord,’ tell us the truth,” Lambert said, pointing at the new man. “How did you get on my boat?”

“I was never on your boat,” he replied.

“Then how did you fall into the ocean?” Geri asked.

“I did not fall.”

“What were you doing in the water?”

“Coming to you.”

We looked at one another.

“Let me get this straight,” Yannis said. “God decided to drop from the sky, swim to this raft, and start talking to us?”

“I talk to you all the time,” he said. “I came here to listen.”

“Listen to what?” I said.

“Enough!” Lambert broke in. “If you know so much, tell me what happened to my damn yacht!”

The man smiled. “Why are you angry about that?”

“I lost my boat!”

“You are in another.”

“It’s not the same!”

“True,” the man said. “This one is still afloat.”

Yannis chuckled. Lambert glared at him.

“What?” Yannis said. “It’s funny.”

Mrs. Laghari exhaled impatiently. “May we stop with this nonsense? Where are the planes? The ones that rescue us? Tell us that, and I will pray to you right now.”

We waited for a reply. But the man just sat there, shirtless and grinning. The mood shifted. Mrs. Laghari had reminded us that, despite this newcomer’s odd distraction, we remain hopelessly lost.

“Nobody’s praying to him,” Lambert grumbled.



News

REPORTER: This is Valerie Cortez, aboard the Galaxy yacht, owned by billionaire investor Jason Lambert. As you can see, it’s raining, so I’m tucked in here. But the exorbitant fun continues on this fifth and final night of the Grand Idea.

ANCHOR: What took place today, Valerie?

REPORTER: Today the attendees were treated to discussion groups led by a former US president, the designer of the world’s first electric car, and the founders of the three biggest computer search engines in the world, the first time they were ever on the same stage together.

ANCHOR: What’s that music in the background?

REPORTER: Well, Jim, I think I mentioned that this yacht has a helicopter landing pad. They’ve been bringing people back and forth all week. Earlier today, the popular rock band Fashion X was flown in to perform. You can hear them in the ballroom behind me. I think that’s their big hit, “Coming Down.”