Friday afternoon, the boat rocking on the waves, and I was alone.
What am I doing here? I ask that question a lot. So was I really serious about answering it?
There was a little haze, and the land twenty miles away was lost in it and the horizon edge of the water was dulled instead of sharp. The sky stretched above it all, blue and endless.
For the first time, at least since college, I had work to do and responsibility. Maybe that would be enough? Do the right thing, get up every morning, go to the office, bring home the paycheck. Works for a lot of people, even if their paycheck doesn’t have so many digits.
Doesn’t work for me. I put up some sail. I wanted to feel motion.
What was the wind in Fred’s sails? Power, pure power; he was addicted. I could try addiction. I had the opportunity, and it wouldn’t take long to get completely devoured. A quick and painless way to go. If I was really considering it, I must already be halfway gone. But I wasn’t ready to give in yet.
Okay, put it on the shelf, but keep it handy. The wind was slowing, and my forward motion with it.
Self preservation. That one was good for dealing with the governor, but it was pretty limited. Ultimately it was just a method of living, not a reason. It felt good, though, and it was a good name for a lot of what I was doing, a better name than anger or revenge or whatever, even if those were more accurate.
My brother, the noted philosopher, suggested just maximizing pleasure. That only works if your pleasures are simple. Basically, it was the same as addiction.
I enjoyed Katie. Coming home to the wife, and someday children, was the big thing for most of those stiffs clogging the freeways at rush hour. It wasn’t a good reason to sell my soul to Melvin’s framework.
What was Katie’s purpose in life? Recently, it had been to spend money, which was very addicting. Somehow, all the reasons were sounding the same.
Was there even a right reason? Did there have to be? Maybe it was my own personal problem that I was never satisfied. But I never was, and that was the only conclusion I could come to in the whole long afternoon.
The wind was gone, but I left the sail up. Something was missing from it all and I was stuck trying to figure it out. So… just forget it all. That would be the answer.
It was dark and I was lost at sea. There were no lights. I shook my head to wake up; I’d never before fallen asleep out from land alone like this. I flipped on the cabin lights, and they didn’t. Nothing. The batteries were dead?
The GPS, the radio, nothing. No power.
At least the flashlight worked. I checked the electrical panel. Both batteries were dead. How long had I been sleeping? Six hours. Long enough for the refrigerator and the lights to drain every little electron.
In the dark, I pulled down the sail so I wouldn’t get blown any farther out. If I’d been going in a straight line, home was behind me. I checked the compass to guess where I was. Lost at sea, basically. The Atlantic is big. I was probably out in it, out of the Sound.
The outboard was too big to start by hand. I tried anyway. The correct procedure was to use the batteries to start the motor, and use the motor to charge the batteries every few hours. Or just don’t run them down.
Oh well. As long as I didn’t get hit by a freighter or a hurricane, I’d make it through the night, and the forecast hadn’t included any hurricanes. Just rain. I still had the sail and the wind, and in the morning light I could find my way home.
So much for having a billion dollars.
What a long night.
The earth turned very slowly-the stars stood still and I was dragged beneath them. I didn’t feel like trying to sleep, so I listened to the sea and felt the wind. I saw some lights as ships passed, but all very far off. I didn’t want to go down into the cabin, so I sat in the chill air. My new windbreaker helped some.
Maybe the cold was penance. What am I doing here, in the night? I couldn’t forget the question, and the answer that satisfied in the daylight didn’t work in the dark. The blue sky hadn’t seemed bothered by my amateur musings; this black infinity mocked them.
But I was stronger. I could overcome dark and cold. I just couldn’t make the clock move any faster.
It was a long night. Finally I slept.
Rain woke me, light drops on my face at four in the morning. I retreated below. There was plenty of food in the cooler Rosita had packed, and I ate ham sandwiches and cashews, waiting for the sun.
The rain tapped on the deck above, then drummed. When at last I’d finished the trip across the black side of the planet and came out under the sun again, the day was no less dismal. But it was good enough. With light, I was in charge again of my own fate.
I trimmed the sail and brought the boat around and headed back in something like the way I’d come. I didn’t have a good wind, but I was moving.
I knew I must be, at least, but there was no sign of it. If I kept the heading northwest, I’d have to reach something.
The breeze failed, and I had to make do with gusts, from every direction, turning the sail to catch them. I was at the limit of my sailing skills.
The morning passed, I ate lunch, and even the endless afternoon sailed by faster than my boat. I really had no idea how far I was from anything. It was a hard day, and I finally admitted I’d be at sea for another night.
Katie would expect a call, but she knew sometimes it didn’t work out. No one would look for me before Sunday evening, twenty-four hours away. Then it would be Monday before they could search, and only if the clouds broke.
Hurricanes and freighters-just avoid those two.
The lead sky faded to black, but at least I was tired. Sail down, secure the boat, eat. What was left in the cooler? Enough, but I ate sparingly. Ten o’clock with the rain still falling.
I was lost in the dark. There was a haven somewhere, a place for the boat to get to and be safe. What about for me? I had no such certainty. I didn’t even know where I was to wonder why I was there.
I needed a wind behind me. It was midnight and my drifting was finally to sleep.
I woke disoriented, my bed alive. I fought to stay in it, but then I knew where I was, and I rushed up on deck. Stars swung wildly above. Waves coming over the side soaked me as I pulled up enough sail to bring the bow into them.
The rocking calmed, and it was back-to-front instead of side-to-side. Four o’clock again, black sky but a million stars, and a bunch of them in a long straight line along the horizon due north.
No more sleep. With the seas as high as they were, I needed to keep watch.
Two hours later I saw the end of the night. The water held the dark as long as it could, but the sky rushed into day. Then the sun breached the horizon, the water had its own cataclysm, and the sky was left behind with its cautious brightening. There were no clouds except in the farthest west, and they were the last to feel the day.
The stars and shore lights had disappeared. I couldn’t see the shore but I knew where it was, and the wind was steady from the southwest.
The adventure was over.
I’d discovered Long Island. I put in to charge the batteries and call Katie.
“Montauk?” she said. “What are you doing there?”
“Just following the wind. I’ll be home by six.”
“Was everything okay?”
“Yeah, it was fine,” I said. “Anything happening at home?”
“Fred wants you to call.”
“I’m sure. I’m on vacation until I walk through the front door.”
I was fully in the twenty-first century as I put into the wind, with GPS, radio, and food. Before noon I’d cleared Long Island, and the southwest wind was pushing me fast into the Sound and toward home. The last sixty miles took four hours.
I had the marina in sight at four thirty, back in my safe haven and right at the edge of cell phone range, and my cell phone rang. It was Katie.
“Jason?”
She sounded terrible.
“What’s wrong, Katie?” She was sobbing, and I said again, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Angela. She’s dead.”