The Stranger in the Lifeboat by Mitch Albom Page A

and wash over the side.
    â€œNina!” I heard Yannis yell. A second passed. Two. Three. We flattened out. I heard Nina’s voice against the surf, screaming for help. Where was she?
    â€œThere!” Geri yelled. “To the left!”
    Before I could react, Yannis had hurled himself into the water and was swimming toward her.
    â€œNo, Yannis!” I screamed. Another swirl lifted us, and a wall of water slammed down. I wiped my eyes furiously. In the distance I saw Nina’s head bobbing up and down. She was a good twenty yards away now. Another wavesmashed against the raft. I saw Geri trying to row, and I scrambled toward her, yelling, “Give me the other paddle!” Another crash. Another white shower.
    â€œWhere are they?” I screamed, wiping my eyes. “Where did they go?”
    â€œThere!” Jean Philippe yelled.
    They were off to our right now, but farther away. I saw Yannis finally reach Nina. I saw them grasp each other. Together they went under, then resurfaced. Then another wave hit us. Then another. Then I couldn’t see them anymore.
    â€œGeri!” I yelled. “What do we do?”
    â€œRow!” she hollered.
    â€œWhere?”
    She spun her head. For the first time, she didn’t have an answer, because there was no answer. Yannis and Nina were gone from sight. I paddled madly, as did Geri, ripping into the waves that broke on all sides of us. The wind whipped my face so hard that tears streamed down. I could barely see. For all I knew we were spinning the raft around like a record player.
    We never found them. After ten minutes, my weak muscles groaned in pain. I dropped back and wailed “ NO !” and was soaked by another wave, as if to shut me up. The wind howled. The raft was calf high with seawater. The others held their ropes and stared at the horizon, avoiding looks that said the obvious. Two more taken. Two more gone. Icould hear the boast in the ocean’s torturous roar. You will never escape. I will have you all.
    * * *
    No one spoke for hours. The storm passed, the rain never hit us, and the sun returned in the morning like a tireless demon punching in for its daily shift. We stared at our feet. What was there to say? Five dead from this lifeboat, plus dozens lost the night the Galaxy went down. The ocean was collecting us.
    Lambert mumbled incoherently now and then, something about phone calls and “Security! Call security!” Gibberish. I ignored him. Little Alice was draped over Geri, squeezing her arm. I thought about the morning when Mrs. Laghari straightened Alice’s hair, licking her fingers and flattening her eyebrows, the two of them smiling and hugging. It felt like years ago.
    And Nina? Poor Nina. From the moment I met her on the Galaxy , she looked to believe the best in people, and she went to her death believing the stranger in our boat would save her. He did not. He did nothing. What more proof of his charade do we require? She told me once that she had asked the Lord about prayers. He’d said all prayers were answered, “but sometimes the answer is no.”
    I suppose it was no for Nina. It infuriates me. When I glare at the man, he returns my look with a placid expression. Ican’t imagine what he is feeling or thinking, Annabelle. Or if he feels and thinks at all. When we had food, he ate it. When we had water, he drank it. His skin is chafed and blistered like ours. His face is hollow and bonier than when we discovered him. But he utters no complaints. He does not seem to be suffering. Maybe delusion is his best ally. We all search for something to save us. He thinks it is him.
    * * *
    Yesterday morning, I awoke to see Geri fussing with a patching kit.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” I mumbled.
    â€œI’ve got to try and patch the bottom, Benji,” she said. “We don’t have enough people to keep bailing. We’ll sink.”
    I nodded wearily. Ever since the shark