The Stranger in the Lifeboat by Mitch Albom Page B

attack, which ripped a hole in the lower tube, one of us has been constantly shoveling water out of our tilted raft bottom. It’s an endless, tiring task, only tolerable because there were many of us. But Lambert is slow at bailing, and lately he has been out of it. Little Alice tries, but she fatigues quickly. That leaves only me, Geri, Jean Philippe, and the Lord. Even collectively, we don’t have the strength anymore.
    â€œThe sharks, Miss Geri,” Jean Philippe protested. “What if they come back?”
    Geri handed him a paddle, then handed one to me.“Bang ’em hard,” she said. When she saw my reaction, she lowered her voice. “Benji, we have no choice.”
    We waited until the sun was high, when sharks are least likely to be prowling for food. With Jean Philippe and me leaning over the sides, paddles up like two exhausted sentinels, Geri took a breath and dropped into the water.
    The next half hour was like sitting in a darkened house, waiting for a killer to reveal himself. Nobody spoke. Our eyes darted across the surface. Geri kept coming up then diving back under then coming up again. She found the hole, which she said was small, but being underwater left the glue and patches useless.
    â€œI’m going to try some sealant and stitch it,” she said.
    Again, we watched the water intensely. After twenty minutes, Geri said she’d fixed all she could. Then she dove back under one more time.
    â€œWhat’s she doing now?” I asked.
    She resurfaced with her hands full of weeds and barnacles. She tossed them into the raft, and we pulled her in.
    â€œThere’s a whole . . . ecosystem . . . on the bottom of this raft,” she gasped. “Barnacles. Sargasso. I saw fish, but they scattered . . . too fast . . . They’re living off what’s growing on the bottom.”
    â€œThat’s good, right?” I asked. “The fish? Maybe we could catch one?”
    â€œYeah . . .” She nodded, still panting. “But . . . that’s what the sharks are after, too.”
    * * *
    Now, Annabelle, I must share one more thing, and then I will rest. The writing takes a lot out of me. Processing thought. Thinking about anything besides water and food. I helped Geri pump air into the repaired tubing. It took us an hour. Then both of us fell back under the canopy. Even that simple act was draining.
    Still. Last night, in a moment of grace, we witnessed something otherworldly. It was after midnight. As I slept, I felt a sensation through my closed lids, as if someone had turned on the lights. I heard a gasp, and I opened my eyes to witness an utterly amazing sight.
    The entire sea was aglow.
    Patches below the surface were illuminating the water like a million small light bulbs, casting a Disneyland bluish white all the way to the horizon. The ocean was dead calm, as if it had parked itself in place, and the effect was like looking at a massive sheet of glowing glass. It was so beautiful that I wondered if my life had ended and this was what came next.
    â€œWhat is it?” Jean Philippe whispered.
    â€œDinoflagellates,” Geri said. “They’re like plankton. They glow if they’re disturbed.” She paused. “They’re not supposed to be this far out.”
    â€œIn all my life,” Jean Philippe marveled, “I never see anything like this.”
    I glanced at the Lord. Little Alice was asleep next to him. Wake up, child , I wanted to say. See something astonishing before we die .
    I didn’t. In fact, I barely moved. I couldn’t. I kept staring at the glowing sea, awestruck. At that moment, I sensed my insignificance more than at any other moment in my life. It takes so much to make you feel big in this world. It only takes an ocean to make you feel tiny.
    â€œBenji,” Jean Philippe whispered to me. “Do you think the Lord created this?”
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