His comment jogs my mind. On a trip to Florida with my family, at an aquarium, Landon and I learned all about the endangered Ridley sea turtles. After hatching from eggs on shore, they leave the beach and swim out to sea. They spend the first year or more of their lives drifting in the sargassum rafts that gather in the Gulf Stream. Munny reaches into the sea and grabs for more of the brown weed. There aren’t any turtles.
“Drink my own pee. Eat live turtles. I can’t do this,” Dale says.
I’m a little relieved that Munny doesn’t find any. Ridley turtles are endangered, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable eating a protected species.
“They look like grapes,” Landon says, fingering a cluster of gas-filled bladders.
“Get it off the raft,” Burr says. He flings another crab out to sea.
“Wait,” Munny says. “We might be able to eat those.”
I’m still holding a sargasso crab between my fingertips. I drop it onto the floor and watch it wriggle in the water, trying to acclimate to its own buoyancy. It reminds me of a spider, one of God’s worst creations.
“Live crabs?” Dale asks.
“We can do this,” Wick says.
I nod my head. “Right.”
We’ve passed through the patch of seaweed, and it’s really too late to reconsider grabbing more, so we focus on the small crabs that remain swimming in the raft. We fish through the raft water with our hands and pick them up.
“But they’ve been in the crap water,” Dale says.
“Just eat it,” Wick says.
“Wait,” Landon says. “Does everybody have one?”
“Skate doesn’t have one,” Burr says. “I’ll give him mine.”
“No,” Dale says. “I’ve got two.”
How Dale went from decrying that he’d never eat a crab to become the sole person holding two both surprises me and does not surprise me.
“Give me your hand,” Dale says.
Skate lifts his hand and it trembles. The flesh around his fingernails is white. The seawater is rotting our skin; it’s dissolving us. And Skate looks worse than any of us.
“Just put it in his mouth,” Burr says.
Skate opens his mouth and Dale delivers the crab to his awaiting tongue.
“Should I kill it first?” Dale asks.
“Pinch it hard and it will die,” I say. How did I know that? How did I suddenly become a dispenser of knowledge for how to kill crabs and feed them to your friends?
Dale pinches the crab and a clear fluid runs down his thumb. Dale quickly lifts his hand to his mouth and catches the drip. “Son of a bitch, it’s salt.” He lowers the crab to Skate’s open mouth and flicks it onto his tongue. Skate closes his mouth and chews.
“Good job,” Burr says.
Once Skate is fed, I hurry to eat my own crab. I don’t kill mine before I put it in my mouth. It moves across my teeth and it cracks when I bite it. It doesn’t taste like anything. My mouth isn’t making saliva. It’s hard to chew. It’s hard to swallow. My teeth are sore. So are my gums. I wish I were eating pudding.
“I’m bleeding,” Dale says. He opens his mouth and blood stains his teeth.
“We’re dehydrated,” Munny says.
“Jesus, eating these crabs was a rotten idea.” Dale points his finger at me. “Don’t tell me what to do ever again.”
“Don’t yell at Enid,” Wick says.
“We’re eating seaweed and crabs,” Dale says. “It’s gonna kill us.”
“We’re not eating the seaweed,” Sov says.
“Could everybody just shut up for five seconds so I can have time to think!” Burr says.
I wasn’t expecting this explosion of anger from him. I stop breathing. He glares so hard at Sov that it makes me uncomfortable and I turn away. I see a fin lowering itself below the surface. I had no idea there were this many sharks left in the world.
“That seaweed brought more water on board.” Burr kicks at the water gathered in the raft. “Skate can’t sit in the corrosive crap. Ask before you haul anything else on the raft. Can you do that, Enid?”
I nod. I don’t know why Burr is so mad at me. We all were able to eat a crab because of what I did. I look at everyone else’s face. Sov and Munny are staring into the water. Landon looks at me and weakly smiles. Dale is focused on his own mouth, touching it with his fingers, checking them for blood. Skate’s head droops onto his chest. I think he’s asleep. Wick takes my hand and squeezes it. I don’t turn to look at him. I think if I did, it would make me cry. Not that I actually could.
I can’t make sense of Burr’s anger. The rage behind what he says stings me, and I feel like I’m absorbing a punch. I knew Dale had anger issues, but not Burr. Learning this makes him feel like a stranger to me. I try to think of him as the version I know. If I do that, I’m not afraid of him. I know the “twin group,” and they are all good guys. Burr and Skate may have their problems. Dale, of course, is a total ass, but nobody in our group would hurt me. Or themselves. Or anybody else. Not intentionally.
I wonder when our parents will know that anyone besides me is missing? Will the Coast Guard tell them? The guys aren’t expected back for three more days, but my mother will be tearing apart the world to find me. She knows me. Eventually she’ll figure out that I didn’t drive to Canada or check into a youth hostel. She’ll realize what I did and she’ll drive down looking for me. She’ll drive to Burr and Skate’s uncle’s house. He’ll be the one who tells her we took the boat out. Wait! How come none of us have thought of this? He had to see that the boat was missing. When the guys didn’t come back, he had to put two and two together. He must have called the Coast Guard. They are looking for us.
I lift my head. I can’t wait to tell the guys. “The uncle!”
“What?” Wick asks.
“Burr and Skate’s uncle. When you guys didn’t come back, he must have looked for you. I bet he went to the dock and saw the empty slip. He must have called the Coast Guard.” I reach down and touch Wick’s hand. Energy I didn’t know I had surges through me. I am so happy. I smile. I have hope again.
But nobody else seems the least bit excited by my revelation.
“Their uncle Bennett is out of town,” Dale says softly. “He won’t be back for another week.”
I tumble down my ladder of happiness and fall lower than I was before. Wick squeezes my hand, but it hurts my thumb and I pull away.
“You guys were lying about staying with the uncle?” I ask. “Mom would never have let you come if she knew you were down here with zero adult supervision.”
“Which was sort of the point of the lie,” Dale says.
“The Coast Guard is looking for us even without Uncle Bennett,” Landon says.
“Yeah,” Burr says. “I gave them our coordinates. But it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
Even with our coordinates? I think. I study Burr’s expression. He doesn’t look nervous. He looks tired.
“No!” Landon yells.
Notch rams the side of the raft hard, almost dumping us into the ocean. I want to think that he’s just curious. But every time the fish approaches us, his tight jaws loosen and I can see rows and rows of teeth. But what’s most disturbing is the way he looks at us. Right before Notch strikes us, a third lid slips down to protect his hollow-looking eyes. They’re solid black, and there’s no feeling there. He’s just a hungry mouth attached to some fins.
“I hate their eyes,” I say.
“They have a nictitating membrane to protect them when they attack,” Munny says.
“I know. I can see it,” I say.
Before I even know what I’m doing, I take my shoe and pitch it at Notch. It bounces off his flat head. It floats for a moment, ducklike, and then Notch opens his mouth, dives on top of it, and takes it under. The water where Notch went down foams a pale blue.
“What the hell?” Burr asks. “Don’t tempt them.”
“Dude, that’s messed up,” Dale says.
“Leave he
r alone,” Wick says. “It’s okay, Enid.”
“Why did you do that?” Landon asks.
“I don’t know,” I say.
I fold my arms and bow my head like I’m going to pray. Notch resurfaces and rubs against the raft. If I wanted to, if any of us wanted to, we could reach out and touch his rough gray skin.
“Dude, no more messing with the sharks,” Dale says.
“She won’t do it again. Will you, Enid?” Landon asks.
I shake my head no. Wick rubs the back of my neck and tells me again that it’s okay. But it’s not okay. I look at my bare feet. They’re submerged in the raft’s filthy water. I wished that I hadn’t thrown away my only shoe. Even if it was an impractical pump, it was something. I’m so tired, I let my hand go slack and I lose Wick’s grip. I think of the road signs I passed on the drive down from Vermont. MARYLAND CHERISHES ITS WATERSHEDS and NO ILLEGAL DUMPING. $25, 000 FINE. I just illegally dumped my shoe. That’s a $25, 000 offense. Why did I do that? Then the answer hits me, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I threw my shoe because I’m going crazy. I’m losing it. I could be the first one to die.
Landon has moved to be by my side. I’m now flanked by him and Wick, and this makes me feel better. We’re all barefoot. The guys finally decided to take off their shoes. They sit in a pile next to Skate. I wish there was a way a shoe could be useful. But shoes really only work as footwear.
“We should use the twenties to make another cash rope,” Wick says.
Landon doesn’t look at him. “Okay.”
“You’ve got the twenties,” Wick says.
Landon reaches into his jeans and pulls out two wadded bills. I should suggest using the shoelaces, but I don’t want another argument with Dale about lace worth and possible deserted islands.
“I want to take a nap,” I say. I am so tired.
“Stay awake,” Landon says. “Help me fish.”
“I want sleep,” I say.
Landon doesn’t argue with me. But I think maybe he’s right. Maybe I should try to stay awake.
“My life is suck,” Dale says. He looks at me. “Your life is suck.”
He is so depressing.
Burr is still crouched beside Skate. Skate is awake less than I am. He’s only conscious for brief moments. To get him and his head wound out of the contaminated water, he’s now sitting up all the time. Burr doesn’t let him sleep on the bottom of the raft. His head is still wrapped in Dale’s T-shirt, hiding the gash, and I’m glad for this, but I’ve spotted a new injury on him.
It’s his ear. He must have hurt it when Wick threw him off Gretchen. As he fell, I saw him bump into the ship’s side, but I hadn’t noticed his ear until now. There’s a big cut behind it, and it’s also infected. I worry that gangrene is going to set in, that once we get him to a hospital, the ear is going to be cut off. I guess it’s not the end of the world. But I’m afraid that it is the end of his ear. I bet people will start calling him Vincent van Gogh, which will be totally appropriate, Skate being the artistic type.
My hand isn’t getting any better either. It’s puffy and it hurts. Also, my legs are starting to grow sores. I think it’s from the exposure. The sun and the salt water are corroding my skin. Actually, we all have these sores. I’m the one whose legs lack any protection at all. Why did I show up in a skirt? I’ll never wear such impractical clothes again. I close my eyes and turn in to myself. We’re drifting in silence again. The sun is setting. Our world is going to grow cold and dark.
“His ear is so messed up,” Dale says.
“Shut up,” Burr says. “He’s sleeping.”
But Skate’s eyes are wide open; he’s awake. Burr tugs at his own ear.
“It’ll be okay,” Burr says. “It’s not that bad.”
Wick is sitting on the other side of Landon.
“Where the hell is the Coast Guard?” Wick asks.
“They’ll come,” Burr says.
I hold my head in my hands. I wish so badly that I wasn’t here. I wish I was in Vermont. I wish I was drinking water.
“We should always have someone stay awake,” Wick says. “So that we can signal them.”
“With what?” Dale asks. “It’s going to be dark out.”
Dale’s comment quiets everybody.
“They’ll be here,” Burr says.
“I think I need a doctor,” Skate says. “I’m probably gonna have to get to the hospital as soon as we get back.”
“Yeah, the Coast Guard will have medics. Then you’ll be taken immediately to a hospital. You’ll be fine. Hang in there,” Burr says.
Burr tugs at his ear again. He also rubs the back of his own head. I wonder if he can feel Skate’s pain. Because of all the twin studies, I’m sure that he can. Burr looks totally wiped. I look at him and smile, but he doesn’t smile back. A small wave lifts the raft, and we work to steady it. Then a large shark strikes the side of the raft, and I scream.
“Don’t do that. We don’t want to encourage it,” Dale says.
“Actually, I don’t think screaming encourages them,” Munny says. “Sharks follow the electrical currents of other animals. They don’t have ears. They have sensor receptors.”
“Thanks for the science lesson,” Dale says. “But that doesn’t explain why sharks love blood.”
“They have excellent olfactory senses,” Munny explains. “Their very sensitive noses can detect blood for up to a mile, as little as one part per million of blood in seawater.”
“Not every species,” Wick says. “You’re talking about sharks like they’re all identical. A dogfish shark isn’t the same as a bull shark or a whale shark.”
“I know that,” Munny said. “I’m talking about blood—”
Wick cuts him off. “You’re oversimplifying everything.”
I reach out and touch Wick’s arm. We don’t need to bite each other’s heads off.
“Dude, my brother’s right,” Dale says. “You’re like a fact box. I’m Munny. Here’s a fact. And a fact. And a fact.”
To further antagonize Munny, Dale makes his voice sound whiny and obnoxious.
“And you’re like an empty box,” Munny says. “I didn’t study. I didn’t read it. Me hate knowledge. I never know answer.”
Munny exaggerates Dale’s voice, making him sound like a grunting caveman. I think it’s funny, but Dale looks furious.
“Say that again and I’ll punch you,” Dale says.
“Don’t threaten Munny,” I say.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Dale says. “I’m not Wick.”
“She’s off-limits,” Wick says.
“I can say what I want to say,” I say. My voice sounds strong.
“Chill out, Enid,” Landon says.
I can’t believe it. Landon is siding with Dale. I’m stirred awake even more.
“I hate sharks,” Dale says. “I hope they all go extinct.”
I see a chance to dig at him, and I take it. “Only a stupid person would say they want an entire species to go extinct. Throw the ecosystem off, and we’re all doomed.”
“I agree,” Munny says.
“Enid,” Landon says. “Shhh.”
I can’t believe my own brother is shushing me. I’m right.
“Let’s mellow out,” Landon says.
“I am mellow!” I say.
“Maybe I wasn’t talking to you,” Landon says.
I’m confused. Why is he being so mean to me? I can’t hold in my frustration anymore. “Why is everybody on this raft starting to act like either an idiot or a jerk?”
“I haven’t said anything,” Sov says.
“Stop calling me stupid!” Dale says. “You think I don’t know what those twin tests say? You think I don’t know they think I’m the dumbest? Do you think it’s fun to hear that every month of your life? Shut up!”
“She didn’t call you stupid,” Munny says. “She thought your comment was stupid.”
“I am not stupid!” Dale picks up a shoe from the pile and thr
ows it hard at Munny’s head. The toe-end makes contact with Munny’s cheekbone and bounces into the water. Munny doesn’t scream, but the area underneath his eye immediately becomes red. He lifts his hand to his cheek. He looks surprised.
“Hey! You can’t attack people on the life raft,” I say. “That’s insane!”
“Don’t do that again,” Landon says. “Are you okay, Munny?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anybody,” Dale says. “In a normal situation I wouldn’t have done that. This is so messed up.” He squeezes his eyes shut.
“Buckle down,” Wick says. He reaches into the water to pick up the shoe, but a snapping jaw filled with teeth breaks the water’s surface and engulfs the sneaker.
“Holy shit!” Wick yells.
He pulls his arm back fast, and the shark turns, slapping its tail against the side of our raft. A wave of seawater floods over us as one whole side of the raft bends upward. Landon is near the part that bows. For a second, it looks like he could tip either way. Into the water? Into the raft? He falls into the bottom of the raft, landing on his hands and knees in the cruddy water.
“Sorry,” Dale says. “Sorry.”
“Pull that again and I’ll throw you over,” Landon says. As he reseats himself, I notice that he’s shaking. He could have died. He’s sitting next to me, and I touch his leg. Then I release a big breath. I didn’t even realize that I’d been holding my breath.
“I’m so thirsty,” Burr says. “I need water.”
“If we catch a fish we can eat its eyes,” Munny says. “They contain water.”
“How do you know that?” Burr asks.
“It’s just a fact,” Munny says. “I’m a fact box.”
I look into the ocean. Everything is growing dark. Far off, I think I see a gray mark inching along the horizon line. Maybe it’s my imagination. Maybe it’s another shadow.
“Is that a ship?” I ask. My voice is quiet, almost like I’m afraid to be heard.
“Where?” Wick asks.
“There,” I say, pointing.
“It is,” Wick says. “Enid sees a ship!”
We’re all looking at the small gray block.
Sharks & Boys Page 13
