Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Singing (10/31/05)
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TITLE: Adrift | Previous Challenge Entry
By Peter Thomas
11/04/05 -
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Wil rowed calmly, almost in shock over what had happened. The boat rocked in the ocean waves, with the sun scattering on the water. He scanned the horizon, but only as an impulse. He silently thanked God and felt a warmth expand within him until he couldn't help but to start singing.
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind, but now I see."
Wil became aware of Margie Smithers when her head twitched and he felt the weight of her glare upon him.
"Twas Grace that taught . . .
my heart to fear
And Grace, my fears relieved."
Margie twisted in a way that startled Wil. She said, "Would you please shut up?"
Wil took a deep breath. "What's wrong now?" he said.
Her face contorted and she peered at him with zeal. "What, are you an idiot?" She looked at her husband for support. He held her gaze with shared contempt. "If it weren't for your stupid captain, we wouldn't be out here to begin with."
"He's dead," Wil said. "Why don't we let him rest in peace? Besides, it wasn't his fault."
Margie snorted. Her fingers clawed at her knees. "I hope he burns in hell."
Her husband Roger nodded. "I can't say I'd argue with that."
"Fine," Wil said. "But as long as we're stuck out here, I'd like to sing. It helps me to strengthen my spirit."
Margie rolled her eyes in disgust and shook her head. "Don't mention God again."
"Why's that?"
"If it weren't for God, our ship wouldn't have sunk. If God exists, he's evil and cruel and vicious. Grace! You want to sing about grace. He let our boat sink. What kind of grace do you call it when God allows us to suffer like this? I haven't eaten for three days."
"People fast for three days all the time. All this whining is just making things worse."
"Shut up. I won't listen to any more of your talk. I'm thirsty. We'll die without water."
"You better not drink any more salt water. There's a storm on the horizon and-"
"Shut up, I said!"
Roger hissed at him.
Wil tugged at the oars. He took a deep breath and nodded. He began to think of his son and the grief was almost too much to stand. He wanted to die. As Wil closed his eyes and tugged at the oars, he asked God for forgiveness for his sins of impatience and his petty squabbling. He asked God for water and thanked him. He praised God for saving them. He praised God for saving his son's soul before calling him back to heaven. The more he praised God, the more the gloom was driven off of his back. The warmth returned and by singing he knew he could row a little longer.
"Through many dangers, toils and snares . . .
we have already come.
Twas Grace that brought us safe thus far . . .
And Grace will lead us home."
The boat rocked and Wil opened his eyes. Roger stood before him with his teeth bared like some rabid dog. "I told you to shut your mouth. One more sound and I'll shut you up for good."
"Everything's gonna be alright," Wil said.
Roger stepped forward and smacked him on the side of the face. Wil fell backwards and landed on his back. Roger leapt on top of him and began to strangle him. Wil gagged and fought for air and couldn't breathe. He tried to punch Roger but the big man had longer arms and Wil couldn't reach him. His arms flailed in a desperate struggle. Some raw instinct kicked in and he hammered both of Roger's elbows with his palms. Roger screamed and collapsed onto Wil, who pushed himself free. Wil crawled away, and suddenly a cold horror washed over him.
"Where's Margie?" he said, looking at Roger, who got up onto his knees.
"She jumped," Roger said. "Her suffering is over." He struggled onto his feet. "Here I come, baby."
"No," Wil said.
"I can't take it anymore." Roger leapt into the water and the action almost caused the rowboat to capsize. Wil dropped onto his back to balance the boat. When the rocking steadied, he sat up and looked around. Roger was gone, but on the horizon he saw a faint ridge. Land.
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