Excerpt for Stranded by TJ Johnson, available in its entirety at Smashwords

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Friends for life, young Ryan and Austin left summer camp for an end-of-the-summer Caribbean sailing trip with promises of high sea adventure. However, a monstrous storm changes their lives forever, leaving them alone on an island to grow from boys to men, and discover a new life of survival in their own way. Years later, a last minute rescue from the hands of angry Cuban soldiers destroyed their joyous tropical life together, while forcing the boys to live according America’s current values and expectations, but they couldn’t do it. They couldn’t forget the love they had on the island, and together, they fought everything the world put in their path, to find a new paradise faraway from home. They couldn’t change the events that changed their lives, but they could change where they lived, and how they lived on a new island. They would make it their mission to help others find the peace, joy, and love they found.


Stranded is an innocent love story, packed with adventure and thrills, passion without limits, and enough emotion to pull a tear from a statue. The laughs and tears feel all too real, while the reader discovers the inevitable conclusion of saying, why not a love like this? The story is fiction, but you’ll catch yourself looking for their island, as well as a love like theirs!


Stranded


Revised Edition 2010


By

TJ Johnson


Smashwords Edition Published by TJ Johnson


Copyright © 2008 by TJ Johnson

Revised Edition Copyright 2010


Discover other titles by TJ Johnson at Smashwords.com


Stranded Copyright © 2008 & 2010 by TJ Johnson. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, contact Hard Title Publishing at Info@ItsFiction.com


This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.


Library of Congress Control Number:

2008910667


Print Version ISBN 978-0-9764817-8-2


Print Version Published By

TJ Johnson & Hard Title Publishing


This book is available in print at: www.ItsFiction.com

TJ Johnson & Hard Title Publishing


This book is available in print at: www.ItsFiction.com


This novel is strictly and entirely a work of fiction. All references to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are purely and solely intended to give the novel a sense of reality and authenticity. All other names, characters, incidents, organizations, or locales are strictly the product of the author's imagination, as are those fictionalized events and incidents that involve real persons and entities. Of the fictional characters, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely and purely coincidental.

Books by TJ Johnson


The War Apart - Part I

(A Josh & Zeke Story)


The War Ahead - Part II Revised 2010

(A Josh & Zeke Story)


The Will

(A Brett & Chase Story)


Stranded Revised 2010

(An Austin & Ryan Story)


The Raceboys

(A Jack & Thad Story)


A Writer’s Fantasy
(About His Favorite College Basketball Star)

(A Shane & TJ Story)


Gay Grifters

(An Eric & Tyler Story)


The Blackfeet Boys Part I

(A Kiyo & Windtalker Story)


Coming soon:


Crosshairs

(An Eric & Tyler Story)


The War Beyond - Part III

(A Josh & Zeke Story)


The Blackfeet Boys Part II

(A Kiyo & Windtalker Story)


Rock Solid Part III

(An Eric & Tyler Story)


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Dedication


A friend for fifteen years, Greg still makes me laugh when he calls, and his hugs still make my spirit soar.

True love doesn't have a happy ending;

True love has no ending.

ED MCKENZIE


ONE


In the early morning hours, he glanced up at the well-used wall calendar just above his bed, wiped the sleep from his eyes with his knuckles and slowly smiled. For almost a year, he had carefully written a large red X over each day as it passed. Today was the last one to mark. The anticipated glorious day was finally here. This was the day he would finally leave his mother’s well-decorated home in Portland, Maine, and head south for the mountains of Western North Carolina. He knew he was far more than just lucky, due to the wealth of his family, but also because his family taught him to be conservative, never acting as if they were rich or pompous. Deep down he knew he had the security and peace of mind with plenty of money in their bank, but he never had more than twenty dollars in his wallet. It had been the same for his father and his grandfather. Everything he needed, from clothes to school supplies, almost magically appeared in his room by either his mother or a member of her staff. Christmas was not a big toy-receiving time at his house because by most standards every day was a Christmas-like happy feeling.

In his journey south, he would leave behind a butler, plus four servants that were all four or five his age, a heated swimming pool, and a tennis court. He gleefully made fun of his tutor who picked his nose when he thought no one was looking, and remained as dull as the day he arrived. Nevertheless, Ryan woefully knew he would miss their excellent chef, a man he often insulted when he asked for simple peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He was polite to his nanny, but would by no means miss her, as he thought he was much too old to have one. If in trade he had a choice of giving up such luxuries for a more simple life on his own, it would easily be worth it, because he would at last be able to leave behind the one person he most detested in the entire world, his despicable and deplorable older teenage sister.

By all accounts, Ryan, known by all he met as a happy-go-lucky ten-year old, loved everyone and everybody except for his older sister Jessie. She was a big exception, a young woman intent on relentlessly spouting a venomous attitude towards Ryan, while daily inventing even more wicked ways to spoil his life on this earth. If he did anything wrong, even accidentally, she ran to mom to tattle on him. Her report of the infraction was as dramatic as the cheap gossip magazines. Jessie could fake a tear, produce a sobbing shoulder or a shaking anguish fit, all of which achieved instant sympathy from her parents. Convicted and punished by his parents before he could even mount a not guilty plea, Ryan accepted his naive parents and his doomed life with his sister as best he could.

If she lied that he had hit her, he found his freedom grounded for a week or more. Ryan lost every round of the battles with his sister, and she marked the successes down in her diary like a gunslinger carving scores on a pistol. She took great delight in her power over his happiness. She was but three years older and clearly bent on destroying him. In front of her parents, she was their beautiful, talented daughter who dreamed of dancing with the New York City Ballet, but once out of their sight, she did everything she could to obliterate any joy that might befall young Ryan. He felt he knew more than most how Cinderella must have felt. His only escape came in the summertime as he headed south without her.


This was his third year to go off to summer camp, and he loved every minute of it. Going to summer camp was a family tradition. The family expected him to go. This trip was one of the few lessons in his life they insisted on that he wanted to do. Camp was part of his well-rounded education, and a privilege few boys had the opportunity to enjoy. He had been afraid to go his first year, but his parents had flown down with him to reassure that he would enjoy the summer. He had his doubts, but after eight weeks of camp, he learned to love not only his freedom from his sister, but his freedom from his parents as well. They were good parents, confident that he ate, dressed, slept, and studied well. They were also a bit of a stuffed shirt and starchy, steadfastly stoic, and they made no attempt to give affection to him. He spent all of their time planning Ryan’s future, and little time worrying about whether he was happy or not.

At camp, Ryan was completely happy, even on a rainy day. He loved everything about the outdoors. His counselors taught him how to fish, something his dad never found time to do. The staff also taught him how to hike, build a tent, and make a fire. Ryan took a class on how to survive on his own by eating the right plants and berries. Last year, he learned to sail a small boat and water-ski. He loved everything to do with the outdoors, on land or water. He even liked the silly campfire songs and skits.

Every summer, after the first one, his parents put him on a plane in Maine dressed in a fancy wool Sunday suit and tie. The suit looked much like the one his executive father wore each day as he flew into New York City for a business or stockholders meeting. He stood at the boarding ramp ready to give his mother the expected peck on the cheek, and though only ten, Ryan knew everyone expected him to shake his dad’s large, baseball glove-sized hand firmly but vigorously. After executing his formal going away duties, he turned and eagerly ran down the ramp to his awaiting jet. In his mind he was a winter prisoner given a summer sabbatical of adventure and fun. He did not want to miss a second of it.


Once in the air, Ryan dashed to the restroom and changed clothes like Superman in a phone booth. He returned to his seat wearing khaki camping shorts with at least six zippers and loops, tennis shoes, white socks, and the official camp tee shirt. He also wore a huge smile that everyone on the plane could not help but notice. He returned their smile when he caught them looking at him. He was a walking, talking, and grinning camp poster child.

During Ryan’s first year, his bunkmate was a fat jerk of a kid, who farted all night, even while masturbating. Ryan searched around for someone else to hang out with and soon made friends with Austin, and since then, they had been bunkmates and best friends. Austin became the only person in the world he would take time to write a letter for posting. Austin knew more about who Ryan was, what Ryan thought deep inside, and what he wanted to do or be than anyone else on the planet. Ryan’s parents had no clue. Austin knew everything, and similarly, Ryan listened earnestly as Austin shared his life with him. They were best friends, buddies, and pals, and thus they began growing up together, one summer at a time.


Unfortunately for Ryan, Austin and his family were in Washington most of the school year. His dad was an asshole of a Senator; a quote Austin heard a reporter say about his father. He did not argue with the reporter's perception, as he knew the man described his dad quite accurately. Austin had loved his childhood mountain home in the state of North Carolina, but at the age of just five years old, his dad won his first congressional election. Less than a month later, the entire family found themselves yanked from their roots in their home state, and sent off to Washington to serve the American people. To him, such a move would never have been his choice, but in his family he rarely had the opportunity or pleasure of choices.

Suddenly, Austin found himself forced to attend private Catholic schools with other young political pricks. Although his family raised him as a non-practicing Southern Baptist, Austin still did not get a reprieve from the traditional stern nuns. He also had an older sister that Austin called Miss W. His sister never figured out the meaning of her nickname or why. Only his best friend Ryan knew this simple secret because Ryan knew every secret Austin had ever invented. Miss W stood for Miss Witch, or sometimes Miss Wicked Witch. Austin often secretly left one of the housekeeper’s sweep brooms in his sister’s room in case she wanted to take a long ride somewhere. He would have been glad to hold the door or open a window for just such an occasion.


Austin was a healthy ten-year old who read a lot more than most kids his age. He mainly did so to keep from being lonely. It was also because he loved adventure stories. Their house was in the Mount Vernon area near Washington, and there were no kids his age in the neighborhood. One of his father’s supporters owned the camp, and thus, they sent him there every summer for the past three years. Fortunately, beginning at an early age, Austin’s grandfather had taught him how to fish and hunt. Often they would sit on some isolated dirt road for hours on end, while waiting for his grandfather’s hunting dogs to track a Southern fox. Once he had seen a red fox bounce over the hood of his grandfather’s old pickup truck before quickly scampering off into the woods in a desperate maneuver to scramble the dogs from his trail. The astonished grandfather and grandson just slowly turned and looked at their thunderstruck faces. Moments later, they busted out laughing as the tail wagging confused dogs ran in circles all around them.

Austin loved wild animals, and as much as he loved the family’s hunting dogs, he often prayed the little fox would escape away unharmed. He became deeply saddened when his beloved grandfather died just three days before his seventh birthday. He missed him. He could not remember a hug by anyone that genuinely loved him since that dark day. Just two months later, Austin met Ryan at summer camp, and before long, he became convinced his grandfather had arranged their meeting from way up in heaven. The pain of the loss of his grandfather almost magically decreased after Ryan and Austin became friends.


His plane was also heading a bit south and west, as was Ryan’s flight. The seatbelt light went on signaling the time of arrival was near. In one of Austin’s khaki short pockets was Ryan’s last letter to him. He had read the two-page letter, handwritten on typical standard three-hole punched school notebook paper, no fewer than forty times. He usually read it right before he went to bed so his dreams would be of him and Ryan exploring the vast hills and waterfalls surrounding Camp Pisgah. He checked his watch once more, and became thrilled to note that he had only a few more minutes until he would see Ryan. He had convinced his parents to book him on a flight that would put him in the Asheville airport about the same time as Ryan’s flight.

After reading the letter one last time, he closed his eyes, and instantly could see his best friend’s face in his mind. Austin was about the same height, weighed perhaps seventy pounds, and had sandy brown hair that turned lighter in the summer sun, with a shade of light red in it, and dark chocolate brown eyes. When Austin laughed, Ryan would delight in seeing two distinctive dimples appear in his friend’s smooth face. He talked to Austin’s face in his silent walks in the woods, or laughed with him in his dreams. He loved Austin as if he was his own brother. He loved him far more than he loved any of his other friends or family members. After all, victims often share a pain so great the bond between them becomes inseparable, and their major common suffering was their two older sisters. They could not imagine why God would have done such a great job of creating this beautiful earth, only to destroy all their peace and happiness by adding their older, obnoxious sisters.

Austin checked his watch again. He had debarked from his seat on the plane twenty minutes ago and bounced excitedly down the ramp steps. Though a well-trained counselor tried to push him aboard a camp bus like a shepherd herding wayward sheep, he refused to leave just yet, and rushed back to the fence near the runway to watch for Ryan’s plane. He opened his wallet to Ryan’s picture, not needing to refresh his memory, but rather wanting to assure himself that his best friend Ryan would soon be landing. He carefully folded a picture his counselor had taken of the two just last summer, and placed that picture in the front of his wallet. He looked at it so often he could have even told you how many blades of grass were around the soles of their shoes. Ryan was about his height, with dark brown hair that contrasted substantially with his rich, sea blue, piercing eyes. Ryan detested the dimple in his chin, and once spent every minute of their daily rest hour with his tongue pressed behind his chin trying to retrain the skin to pooch out instead of the natural depression. He had long given up and accepted the ominous fact that God hated him, and that is why he had a dimpled chin, and why God gave him his stupid sister.

Austin spotted the plane long before anyone else along the railing on the runway. The time on the wall clock crawled along like a metronome during an unwanted piano lesson, but finally, the plane landed. A few more minutes passed before the big stainless steel steps rolled up to the plane. Soon the door swung open. The first passenger to disembark was none other than Ryan, Austin’s best friend, the only person he felt love for, and knew that equal love came in return. They were true best friends.

Austin leaped over the railing, and with an airport cop chasing after him he darted across the tarmac. Ryan bounded down the steps, two at a time, and began running towards Austin. They met nearly halfway to the plane, hugged tightly, and swung themselves around and around, laughing cheerfully and yelling. The arriving passengers stopped their walk on the hot concrete runway while gaping at the spectacle, but as they finally moved towards the terminal, you could see a smile creeping across their travel worn faces. The scene of reunited best friends, though only ten years old, had touched even the hardest of hearts. Even the cop slowed his pace before finally ushering the two boys to the exasperated counselor and the waiting camp bus.

“I missed you so much!” exclaimed Ryan, ignoring the cop and the counselor.

“And I missed you. This is going to be a fun year!” laughed Austin.

“It’s always fun. We have fifty-six days together. It won’t be enough, but it’ll have to do.”

“I promise to make every one of those fifty-six days the most fun we’ve ever had.”

“My golly, in just one winter’s passing, you have managed to get even uglier than last year!” teased Ryan with a sly grin.

“Maybe true, maybe not,” shot back Austin, “but I could never catch up with your ugly record. You are the champion of all the uglies in the world, except for my sister. She takes the world championship every day of her miserable life.”


TWO


The summer began with the best friends teasing, jostling, and poking fun as Ryan and Austin loved to do before they began to catch up on their wretched winter, school, and sisters. Soon they turned to plotting what they wanted to do for fun this year. At the top of the list was rock climbing. The camp rules required a camper to be at least ten years old to sign up for the adventuresome class. The instructor was a senior at Boston College, who smoked pot when off duty, listened passionately to the Grateful Dead all day long, and drove a beat-up green Honda Civic with 220,000 miles on it. He had devoted his entire life to rock climbing and teaching his safe climbing techniques to kids everywhere. He was braver than any other counselor that had any sober brains, and genuinely cared for all his campers like a big brother. Jack had red hair, fair skin, loved to talk about the women he dated and conquered, and unlike most of the staff, he genuinely loved his summer kids. He knew when to yell at them to try harder, and when to pat them on the back for their accomplishments. He especially knew when to give a kid a hug. Austin and Ryan had tried to get Jack as their counselor last year, but could not make it happen. This year, Austin bravely asked his dad to pull a few strings though he hated asking for a favor. He knew if any of his camp friends found out they would tease him, but he figured the risk was worth it.

Jack greeted them at his cabin door with a big howdy guys and his welcome aboard speech. Neither boy heard a word, for they knew when they reached the top of the stairs, Jack was going to give them an official camp noogie. Anticipating the playful fun had silenced their ears.

The noogie always preceded a male form of bear hugging. It hurt a little bit, but only in a playful way. Jack grabbed Ryan in a headlock, then took the knuckles of his free hand and began rubbing across the top of the camper’s head. Somehow he had managed to let the headlock slip so he could tickle Ryan’s ribs, and soon both boys were doubling over in laughter and giggles. Austin tried to escape, but Jack was too fast as he grabbed Austin by the waist of his khaki shorts. He quickly gave him his official noogie and then tossed the two giggling boys onto a bunk. To any passing parent they would have thought the camp had hired a demonstrative pervert. To Austin and Ryan, the camp employed what their comic books called the ultimate summer hero. Jack showed no favoritism nor tried to take advantage of the fact the boys were from wealthy families. He was only slightly impressed that one was the son of a United States Senator. He liked Austin and Ryan simply because of their abundant enthusiasm and positive attitude.


They just knew the summer was going to be fun. It had to be, they thought. There had to be some reprieve from the families they lived with and the sisters whose shadows made their skin crawl. They desperately needed a period in which boys could be boys and friends could be friends. It was as if each adventure made their friendship stronger and tighter. Ryan and Austin would gladly risk their life for the other. Though they never thought out or discussed their bond, it made both boys more certain and confidant. Ryan and Austin were true best friends. There was never a doubt about their loyalty. They completely trusted their friend. Lifelong brothers or even twins could not have been closer than these two.

After the official welcome by Jack, they quickly changed clothes and ran to the lake for the camp’s requisite swim test. After leaping off the dock and into the cool lake, they knew their summer had officially begun. To the boys, the splash into the lake washed their accumulated family problems from their skin like trail dust off the back of a horse. They gleefully shouted triumphantly and then, of course, began splashing each other as they swam around in circles.


Eight Weeks Later


However, this year the summer had flown by excessively fast, and only a few days remained before the camp session was over. It had been a busy summer. The boys perfected their camping skills, polished their horse riding competence, and finally learned how to rock climb. They survived a rainy five-day hike on the Pisgah section of the Appalachian Trail that was high above the waterfall city of Brevard, North Carolina. Moreover, they earned the respect of the entire camp by being the only campers to get a fire going, despite a typical late afternoon downpour. Jack taught them everything he knew about rock climbing and surviving in the great outdoors. He insisted they do pushups every morning and every afternoon to make the climbing easier. Their arms and shoulders were as strong as their legs. They earned two rock-climbing awards, one for achievement and one for bravery, the latter a new medal class invented by Jack just for the two boys. After his final presentation, he said that he had never known two ten-year-olds to be so daring, confident, and fearless as Ryan and Austin.

They learned to sail with more efficiency than even boys that were three years older. They also could paddle a canoe skillfully down a medium class river. Jack made sure they knew how to make a temporary patch in case they ripped the aluminum skin on a jagged rock. Their cabin won stunt night and the best cabin inspection score. The reward for the latter resulted in an awesome watermelon fight. To the boys, no fancy dinner with their own excellent chef could touch the fun of this summer. All the staff liked the two boys, and everyone knew they were remarkable best friends.

Ryan and Austin displayed extraordinary outdoor skills, but despite their adventuresome attitude, their gentleman-like training from their formative years showed through. They were excessively polite to all, apologized for any unintended inconvenience, and quickly offered to make amends for any sorrow or problem they may have accidentally triggered. Even though they were only ten-year-olds, the camp director called Ryan and Austin a beacon of hope for tomorrow’s youth, and not a single member of the staff challenged their dual nomination for Camper-of-the-Year-Award. This was the first time the honor went to two campers instead of just one.


It was at lunch when Ryan received a telegram from his mother. He quickly opened it fearing something happened to his family. To his delight, he learned he would not be going directly home to Maine, but would be flying south to the Caribbean on a two-week sailing vacation with his parents. His dad had chartered a big boat, and the idea of a big voyage just overwhelmed Ryan. He leaped with excitement. The best news of all was that his sister would NOT be attending. He was jubilant as he jumped from bunk to bunk, and Austin was happy for him, while silently already feeling the forthcoming loss of his best friend to yet another long lonely winter.

“Can you believe it?” Ryan exclaimed as they left for the dining hall.

“Nope, you’re lucky. I get to go back to hot, dreary Washington...” began Austin before catching his attitude. He realized although he was trying to be a little funny, he was sounding selfish. He stopped himself and quickly changed his temperament. He could not let his misfortune of returning to the Senator’s house tarnish his best friend’s jubilation. So Austin forced a smile to his face quickly as he added, “This will give you a chance to show your dad how much you’ve learned about sailing this summer. One day, when we’re old enough, you and I will sail off on a great adventure together,” added Austin as gleefully as he could muster.

Ryan did not respond as usual, but rather stopped so suddenly in his tracks that Austin had to turn around to see what happened to him. Ryan's smile slid down and off his face like the lowering of a theater curtain.

“What’s wrong with you? You got gas?” teased Austin.

“You’re not going to Washington,” pronounced Ryan, as a sly grin slowly began spreading across his face once again.

“Of course, I am. I think it is written in the Bible somewhere. At the end of the summer, young master Austin must return to his slavery cabin in the great capital, and serve his country by being the perfect son of the great senator from North Carolina. What are you talking about?”

“Not this year. I’m going to call mom, and ask her if you can come with us. It says right here,” he held up the letter and pointed. “My sister is NOT going. That means there is room for you! I’m sure she’ll agree.”

“She might, but I don’t know about my mother.”

“I’ll convince her!” replied Ryan undaunted.

“You’re crazy,” laughed Austin.

“What have we to lose? We can try to have two more weeks together, or we can say goodbye next week. You decide.”

Austin stood there silently stewing over the opportunity, but as the moments ticked by, Ryan could soon see the slow creation of his best friend’s trademark tender dimples. A warm grin slowly swelled on his face. “Do you really think we can pull it off?” asked Austin.

“Yes, I do! Come on, let’s make the call.”

“But we’re not supposed to use the phone until Sunday.”

“That’ll be too late. Come on!” demanded Ryan, as he pushed Austin towards the trail leading to the camp office.


They reached the office and silently peeked in the window to find Miss Galloway typing away on a letter. She was the camp’s secretary, nurse, and official Mother Hubbard all rolled in to one. She hugged and nursed the homesick little ones, and still managed to stick over a thousand band aids on everyone whether they needed one or not. She felt loved and teased, and she loved and teased them right back. The camp would never be the same without her. No one allowed her to retire. No one even considered the possibility.

Ryan motioned for Austin to follow him. “You run inside and tell her that a swarm of bees has stung some campers by the lake.”

Austin protested. “You want me to lie?”

“You want to go sailing?”

“Yes, but then what?”

“Once she leaves, I’ll get on the phone to my mom. Once I get her affirmative approval, then you can call your mom. Get moving.” Ryan pushed Austin into the hallway where Miss Galloway instantly saw him. He could not back out now, but he wanted to.

“Now what are you up to these days, Mister Austin?”

She was so sweet and kind to him, he hated to fib to her. She was like a grandmother to him. He gulped. “Miss Galloway, you’ve got to come quick! There are some bees swarming around the dock at the lake, and I’m afraid they've stung half of the campers!” He made it a small lie. It became a simple stretch of the truth. Surely, there was at least a bee or two buzzing around somewhere near the lake, he hoped.

“Oh my goodness! Let me get my first aid kit.”

“I’ll run and tell them you’re coming!” Austin ran out the door, doubled behind the trash barrel, and crept down beside Ryan as they watched poor Miss Galloway hustle out the door and down the beaten path to the lake.

“Let’s go!” exclaimed a grinning Ryan as he playfully elbowed Austin.


Their luck held as they made the call and like a real miracle, Ryan easily obtained parental permission. Ryan gave her Austin’s phone number and address. His mom promised to call Austin’s mom, and make the coordinating travel arrangements. The news thrilled her. Ryan now had some company, allowing him and Austin to fend for themselves, leaving her more time for reading and tanning. She had no idea of how to entertain or plan a day for ten-year-olds, but made no plans to read up on the subject.

Austin prayed before dialing. “Please God, I’ll do anything, but please let me go. Please. Amen.” Ryan almost laughed aloud, but he knew Austin was deadly serious.

To their surprise, Austin’s mother reminded him that it was an election summer, and that his father would be heavily stumping for the fall election. He felt she was going to say no. Nevertheless, she thought about all the barbecues and banquets to attend, so perhaps his going on vacation with Ryan might be a great idea after all. Suddenly, she said yes. Austin nearly fainted. She promised to discuss it with his father that evening.

The next day, Austin’s mother called and left Miss Galloway a message that Austin’s end of summer travel plans had changed. She gave permission for Austin to go on vacation with Ryan at the end of camp, and said she would send the necessary paperwork to the camp by courier. When Miss Galloway told Austin, they nearly knocked her over when both boys ran and hugged her tight around her waist. She became as delighted as well, making her quickly forget about the lie Austin told her the day before, and understanding why it all had been necessary. She laughed as she watched the eager boys run and jump into the air, clicking their heels together, and bear hugging the other in jubilant celebration. She could not help but be happy for them. The excited boys were a jubilant sight for all to see.


Therefore, the day they had once dreaded arrived, but instead of despondency and tears, they were now leaving a summer of adventure, and heading off to the Caribbean for a two-week sailing vacation. Jack arranged to drive them to the airport where they made their final goodbyes. Jack gave each a huge bear hug, a quick ‘noogie’ for luck, and then presented beaded bracelets he made for them. They wore the bracelets proudly as they boarded the plane for Miami. They were still filled with excitement. If they had but one wish between them, it would be that they never had to say goodbye again, and all their days would be filled with one adventure after another.


THREE


It was the summer of 1978. The Kennedy Cuban crisis had been over fifteen years before their arrival in Miami. Nevertheless, Ryan’s dad insisted on telling the family all he knew on the subject, while the family remained captive to his boring narration in the back of the white limousine that delivered the group from the Miami airport to the pier. The Cuban expatriate driver did his best to ignore the man’s ignorance on the subject, hoping for a large tip as a reward for both his silence and seething patience. Robert was the birth name for Ryan's father, but everyone called him Bob. His father explained Cuba was a communist country, forcing thousands of refugees to flee the island for the land of democracy. Ryan rolled his eyes at his dad’s lackluster speech. Austin nearly busted out laughing at the faces Ryan made while mocking his dad. Mary, Ryan’s mother, tried to distract her husband from his lifeless speech by asking him about the voyage they were about to embark on.

“Hint taken,” grinned Bob after catching Ryan making a face. “The boat is a forty-six footer owned by my boss, who insisted I take this vacation so I will feel guilty and deliver a new design for turbine engines later this year. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve already completed the drawings, and just want to think about them for a while.” He chuckled. “Anyhow, the boat has a forward and aft cabin, and quarters for our captain and cook. Our job will be to have a relaxing sail, do some fishing, and if you boys like, we might go scuba diving. Does that sound like fun?”

“Yes, Dad, it sounds great,” replied Ryan expectantly.

“My dear,” he said turning to his wife, “the chef, known for her exquisite delicacies, maintains an excellent stock of wine aboard the ship. I think you’ll be sufficiently entertained.”

“I pray so,” she replied without a smile. Austin noted a hint of trouble between Ryan’s parents. Ryan on the other hand had known this for a while. He had seen his father with another woman in town one day but kept silent. He did not understand why his mom and dad could not like each other, but he did his best to keep such thoughts from his mind. Austin thought it odd that she brought aboard an entire suitcase of books to read. He could not fathom how there would possibly be a single moment of spare time for anyone to read on a sailing adventure on the ocean. Prior to this cruise, their biggest adventure while sailing was going just around the bend on the camp's lake. Perhaps, he thought, they must observe rest hour like at a camp, and then she could read.


Finally the car parked, and the boys immediately leaped out so they could see the chartered sailing vessel. The boat was spectacular, well polished and preserved. At the end of the dock stood the captain whose shape and demeanor instantly reminded both boys of the television character Captain Kangaroo. He was almost as wide as tall, sported a large bushy handlebar mustache, and long gray hair that somehow he managed to squeeze into a tight ponytail before pulling on a sailor’s hat. The captain had an anchor tattooed on his Popeye shaped arms, on his feet were well-worn leather deck shoes, and sitting beside him was a small brown dog, a two year old miniature pinscher named Bell. The boat’s delightful cook was in fact the captain’s wife; a jolly old gal whose eyes twinkled much like one might imagine Santa Claus doing on Christmas Eve. She winked at them. Her name was Molly, and she greeted everyone with a genuine smile and beaming blue eyes. She also possessed magical talents because she welcomed the boys with a warm hello, and pan of fresh baked, chocolate chip cookies. Her magic worked, so she and the boys became instant friends.

Ryan’s parents took the aft cabin because it was larger, with a view out the stern, and their very own private head, or in the language of the land lovers, a bathroom. The boys took the forward cabin because it was the only one left. The captain and Molly stayed in a central cabin just across from the galley. Ryan and Austin could not picture the captain even fitting through the door, or even how he got in the small bunk bed, but they were smart enough not to be in his way when he tried.


The boat set sail immediately after a bit of orientation. The boys quickly learned the captain was also a big teaser, and yet generous enough to answer their hundred and one questions. He told them everything including what compass bearing they were heading and where it would lead them. They told him about their sailing adventures around the camp lake, to which the captain laughed and teased them about their tiny bathtub boats they supposedly sailed. However, they amazed him when they began speaking the names of all the parts of his boat, and soon he had them raising the mainsail and cranking up the jib.

While the boys napped in the sun, Bob set down with the captain and went over the nautical charts. The captain suggested they take a southerly route around Cuba, and then make a good run to the Cayman Islands. From there, they could head to the Virgin Islands or more secluded islands if they wished. Bob agreed to the plan, mainly because he did not care where they went, as long as he found some time to rest. His tedious work on the new engine designs had been draining him for a long while. He suspected he was getting an ulcer, and he knew his marriage was coming apart as well. He hoped the trip would rekindle his love for his wife, but she seemed moody and arrogant to him, while a saint to others. He didn’t know that she knew about the fling he had with his secretary, and he also didn’t know that she had a tryst of her own.

The lonely little dog took a liking to the boys. They promptly petted and fed Bell scraps of food whenever they could. Once out of the crowded Miami ports, the captain expertly picked up speed, trimming his sails, and carefully plotting his course. Each passing mile became a bit quieter with no car horns or engine noises. It was then they noted the wind whipping across the sails, and the splashing swish of the bow as it plowed across another wave. The captain knew the ocean swells like a trucker might know the hills on an often-traveled highway. It seemed that when the large captain breathed the sails collapsed, and when he exhaled, they filled once more, and the great ship moved forward yet again. Ryan and Austin began to realize that if they ever ran out of wind, the captain would simply blow them to port all by himself.


Two days out to sea, and the swells began to live up to their name, as the waves became nine to twelve feet tall instead of the usual two to three. Mornings came early in the Caribbean as the sun quickly heated up the interior cabins. Just as Austin produced a big, wide-mouth yawn, the bow lifted on the crest of a wave pitching him from the top bunk to the floor. The next wave sent Ryan tumbling out of his bunk as well, and of course, he fell on top of poor Austin, who was now on the bottom of the pile. Still in their underwear, they made their way through the galley and on to the deck. Camp had a way of driving away thoughts and fears of privacy and modesty. To their surprise, the skies were no longer the bright blue they had become accustomed to, but were now dark, dreary, tumbling clouds that approached from the east, blocking their morning sun. They flinched when flashes of lightning streaked across the sky.

“We’ll have to eat on the run today,” said Molly as she handed the boys hot biscuits stuffed with country ham. “Better eat quickly, dress, and get your slickers on. You’re going to get wet. We’re going to enjoy much rain today, but don’t you worry, the old sun will come out tomorrow. You just wait and see. A rainy day just makes the good days even better!”

The boys felt better after Molly’s rousing, confidence building speech, but the boys also noted the worry lines that wrinkled her forehead. Bob and Mary were already in their rain gear, and quickly went about tying all their gear down. They checked and double-checked everything. As the boys ate their breakfast, they noted the captain returned to the helm and took it off autopilot. He was also working much harder at keeping the boat on course than he did the previous two days of fair-weather sailing. Despite the cooler breeze, sweat drops fell from his head to his well-worn tee shirt.


With each passing minute, the swells grew stronger and substantially larger. In an hour, the boat was going up one wave and crashing down into the next, much like a roller coaster at an amusement park. At first, the giant swells were fun for the boys, as they felt their weight shift downward and then upward once again. However, as the day went by and the waves continued to grow, they were soon hanging on as tightly as possible to the stainless steel railing around the cockpit. Their knuckles were white despite their bronze, summer tanned skin as they hung on for the ride. Mary had already thrown up three times, and Bob just lost his breakfast over the stern. Molly spent the past hour securing everything below. She locked every cabinet and door as tight as possible.

Everyone on deck had grown quiet, but as the thunder grew louder, the rain came even faster, and the skies became as dark as night. Austin and Ryan had never seen rain blown sideways into their faces. It did not matter which way they turned their heads, they gulped another mouthful of rainwater, and sometimes seawater as the swells splashed over the deck. Bell was a smart little dog that knew bad weather was here, and thus, she climbed into the lower bunk of Molly’s cabin and hid under the pillow. When the colossal waves grew to twenty feet, Mary became frightened, and made her way back down below. However, the rocking made her seasickness worst. In the moments of silence between waves, they could hear her retching from below. Bob went to console and try to help her calm down, but there was little he could do. The fun was over. Though Austin and Ryan failed to say a single word, the captain recognized the fear he saw in their eyes.

“Don’t worry, lads. I’ve seen worst, and fared the better of it,” he yelled. “I’ll get us through this one, and that’s a promise you can take to the bank. Although, come to think of it,” he teased as he winked, “it’d be a long swim to reach one!” He laughed heartily at his own jokes. The boys rolled their eyes and poked the other in the ribs. The captain’s jokes were getting stale. Just as Ryan was about to make a smart remark, an enormous wave came over the bow and drenched the boys.

“Better tie in if you’re going to stay on deck, or get below and sweat it out. The choice is yours,” warned the captain.

“We’ll tie off, “replied Austin. “ I’d rather see what we’re about to crash into.”

“Yeah, we’re staying,” added Ryan apprehensively.

The boys had already put on their bright orange life jackets. They grabbed some line and tied themselves to the railing, using a bowline knot they learned at camp two summers ago. Jack taught the class this unique knot that never slips nor jams. Feeling somewhat secure, they began to rock and roll with the boat, doing their best to make the storm fun.


FOUR


Four hours went by and the storm had yet to pass on by. In fact, the wind had more than doubled its speed, causing even the captain’s brow to wrinkle with worry. He was struggling mightily with the helm, and the boys began to wonder if they should offer to help. The boat rocked and swayed recklessly. Several times the rope they used to tie themselves to the rail saved them from being swept overboard. The captain fired up the engine to provide steady propulsion power due to the erratic wind. He explained they he wanted to cut through the waves at a slight angle. He didn't explain he was trying to keep the waves from broadsiding the boat and flipping it over.

Mary had thrown up so much that she passed out, most likely from dehydration, but there was no way to get any freshwater in her until the storm passed. Ryan caught a glimpse of Molly in the galley, and he saw her cross her chest like a good Catholic as her lips said silent prayers. He nudged Austin so he could see her. Instantly, the boys’ faces turned white as their fears doubled.

Suddenly, a loud crack rang out above them. At first, Ryan and Austin assumed it was just another of the dozen bolts of lightning ripping across the blacken sky. In this storm, the sonic boom followed the strike a split second later, which meant they were in the thick of it instead of miles away.

“Look out!” yelled the captain. The sail suddenly tore from top to bottom as if it was made of paper.

Ryan turned and his eyes flickered as he saw the main sail descending on top of them. The mast followed like a large telephone pole broken by a runaway car. Ryan grabbed Austin. The pole was coming straight for them. They rapidly began attempting to untie the knots that had swollen in the rain. Their eyes grew wide as huge heavy mounds of sailcloth began falling over and around them. The weight of the wet sail brought the huge mast towards them but stopping briefly as it caught another line, then the line would break and it would drop a few more feet. There was nowhere to run. The captain reluctantly gave up the helm to try to reach the boys, but in doing so, he lost control of the boat. They crossed a large wave, the boat spun wildly, and just as they descended the next crest, the following huge wave slammed into the side of the boat. The mast continued downward and fell just behind the boys but onto the captain, who tripped in the rigging and fell. The mast instantly crushed his neck. He never had a chance to stop it, and in seconds, the captain died. The splintered mast and the ropes dragged his body overboard, tipping the boat wildly out of control. Another huge wall of water crashed over them and then suddenly the stern went under.


Down below, Bob and Mary found themselves tossed from one side of the boat to the other before crashing roughly to the floor. The stern windows were smashed. Water flowed in freely. Molly struggled on her feet, but slowly made her way up the galley steps just in time to see her husband swept overboard. She screamed after him, while knowing she could not save him, and that he was gone forever. The boys found themselves tangled beneath the remaining mounds of wet sail. It felt like a wall had fallen on them. They could not see each other and still could not untie the knots that originally saved them from being thrown overboard, but now threatened to take them to the bottom of the ocean.

“I can’t budge the knot!” screamed Ryan.

“Neither can I!” yelled Austin.

Ryan asked, “Where’s your knife?”

“Back pocket!” replied Austin as he began to twist and squirm in his seat. The water was crashing over the deck and quickly filling the cockpit. The boys suddenly had a new terror, and in a brief moment, the realization they were sinking took hold. They could drown right where they sat.

Molly crawled onto the deck to try to find them, but before she could reach the boys, massive waves slammed over the deck, one after the other and right into Molly. The crest of the waves lifted her like a small toy boat, and tossed her violently into the dark water, never to see the light of day again.

Austin managed to get the knife from his pocket, and although he had never opened the pocketknife in the dark before, he knew every individual blade like the back of his hand. It was a Swiss army knife given to him one Christmas by his grandfather. Ryan had been the only friend ever allowed to touch the highly valued tool. He opened the largest blade, about four inches long, and fortunately, it was as sharp as a razor. He could not see Ryan, so he began by sawing at the knot just above his own waist.


Ryan could hear his mother’s screams as the water continued flooding the boat. Bob struggled to his feet. The boat was turning on its side as wave after wave began devouring the boat like a savage monster chewing its prey. Bob’s body was abruptly tossed about the galley like a rag dog in a puppy’s mouth.

“Come on, Mary. We have to get the lifeboat in the water. We must hurry! Ryan! Ryan!” he yelled above the loud claps of thunder.

Mary had rolled herself up into a ball on the bed. Fear overwhelmed her as panic and shock set in. She could not move. She would not hear, and she would not listen. Water crashed through the portholes and onto the bed. Bob fought his way through the debris and waist-deep water. As he quickly lifted her up in his arms, she suddenly came alive. She scratched and clawed his face like a terror-stricken drowning person, begging him to leave her alone. In spite of her desperate pleas, he refused to let her go. He struggled to make his way back out of their cabin and through the rising water. Just as he started up the steps to the deck, a huge wave crashed over the boat that sent him sprawling backwards into the wall. He dropped Mary as his head hit a beam, knocking him unconscious. Mary crawled to his limp body while sobbing uncontrollably, and just barely got her arms around him when the water rose over her head. She never let go of her drowning husband. The bubbles flew from their lungs like an air pump in an aquarium. She finally gasped and sucked in water. She instinctively tried to get another breath but took in more water. Then her eyes suddenly stopped moving as she and her husband descended into the dark cold water.


Austin cut through his rope rapidly. Ryan was still struggling to get free of the ropes that held them fast to the rail. He twisted and turned until he could see Austin.

“Hold still!” yelled Austin as he grabbed his friend’s rope and began sawing. The knife cut easily through the rope. “You’re free!” he exclaimed.

“I can’t see!” exclaimed Ryan.

“I’ll cut a hole in the sail. I hope the captain...” However, before Austin could finish his revelation, the bow suddenly lifted out of the water, and then slammed under the next wave. In a flash of seconds, the boat and the boys were a few feet underwater and sinking. The saltwater stung their eyes. There had been no chance for a good breath. They struggled to kick free of the debris around their legs. Still clasping his knife, Austin cut a hole in the swirling sailcloth, and though the water was black as night, he could see bolts of lightning. They never knew you could see underwater in the ocean without a diving mask, but even though their vision was blurry, they could see the yellow streaks flashing overhead. It gave them their bearings and a direction to swim towards.

He put his knife deep in his pocket, pulled free of the sheets of sail, tangled ropes and rigging, and then reached for Ryan’s hand.


Ryan grabbed his friend’s hand, but as he pulled through the sail, his feet became entangled in the loose line. He suddenly found himself being pulled down with the boat. Fear seized him. He kicked harder, which only made it worst. Austin let go of Ryan’s hand, swam down and tried to free Ryan’s feet. He retrieved his knife and sawed once again. They were fifteen feet down. Their ears popped from the water pressure, but they didn't feel it. Their lungs ached to draw in fresh air. Their hearts were pounding in their chests. Austin cut one foot free and quickly sawed away to free the other foot. Ryan began to shiver uncontrollably. The water felt cold to their skin. Their rain slickers were heavy. He pulled the top over his head. Austin freed Ryan’s remaining foot. He quickly folded his knife and stuck it once more in his pocket. Ryan pulled Austin’s rain suit off, and then together, they kicked hard and rapidly towards the surface.

Beneath them, they could see flickering lights on the boat as it was sinking. Millions of bubbles were swirling up from the boat and flying by them. The bubbles led them to the surface. They realized the engine had died. The boat was silent though their ears heard loud creaking noises as bottles aboard the boat exploded. Food and paint cans imploded. Everything floatable on the boat flew up through the water like small missiles. In just under five minutes, the boat sunk to the bottom of the ocean, taking Ryan’s parents to their graves.


Austin reached the surface first and stretched his arm downward to pull Ryan the remaining distance to fresh air. Together, they gasped repeatedly, but it seemed for each breath they sucked in, another wave would fill their mouths with saltwater. Ryan coughed hard. Austin threw up, but their arms and legs automatically began kicking as they had learned in their first year at camp. They were treading water. They held hands as the sky went from bright yellow streaks of light to black. They rode the waves. They yelled for Bob and Mary. They yelled for the captain. They yelled for Molly, but they were all gone forever. It was several minutes before they realized their life jackets were keeping them afloat. Only then did they stop their legs and arms from stroking.

“Find something to hang on to,” yelled Ryan.

“I see something over there,” pointed Austin.

The boys swam to a chunk of the wooden mast that had broken off and floated free in the water. Grasping a tight hold on it gave them a moment of reprieve as another wave crashed into them. They hung on to the mast almost as tightly as they hung on to each other. Ryan screamed out for his lost parents. He bravely did not cry. He was afraid to cry. He didn't want to accept they were gone.


As the hours ticked by, the storm finally passed and sometime during the night, the seas began to recede. The storm had arrived at breakfast and departed in the night with little to no warning at all.


They spent most of the following day fighting to stay on the temporary floating chunk of mast. By late afternoon, the sun finally broke through the trailing black clouds, and as it did so, the boys got a strong realization of their sunken ordeal. They took turns sitting up on top of the broken pole and scanning the horizon. They spotted hundreds of floating wine bottles, a torn jacket, pieces of sailcloth, but little else. The rest of the boat and their supplies had gone down to the bottom. Their survival gear and rations amounted to one knife, and some soggy chewing gum and breath mints.

“Do you see anything?” asked Ryan as Austin took his turn on the floating log as they crested a wave.

“Yes, I do. Something swimming in the water over there,” he pointed. “Something small.”

Following tradition, the Caribbean sun was falling quickly into the sea. Sunsets were beautiful, but always lasted only minutes. Darkness would soon cover them once more. A day of mostly darkness, followed by an even darker night, brought on a new stage of panic from the stranded boys.

Ryan asked, “What is it?”

Austin hesitated, straining to see over the wave. “It’s Bell, the captain’s dog! She survived!”


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