Postby JB » Tue May 10, 2016 2:58 pm
Hey Jill, just finished my week one prompt. I was having a bit of trouble getting back to the swing of things.
Sorry it is just a touch over 1k
Sharks in the Water.
“The bridge was under water already, Marge, so this is our only outlet. We only have time to swim to that raft.”
The woman of around fifty said nervously. "The bridge was our only way out...now we are on this accursed sand bar!"
Herb knew they had waited too long to get off of the island. Now they were stuck.
"We have to get to that raft over there, Marge. All of us.
"I guess you mean swim, Herb? You're kidding, right?
“I wish I were.”
The middle-aged man stood with the rest of the party on the quickly disappearing sandbar. Despite getting the group this far safely, guilt had settled in on Herb. How could he have led the survivors to such a dangerous situation. His military training had been in the no man's land of Kuwait, not surrounded by water near Fiji.
Herb Bartley felt an uneasy twinge in his gut. His tour in the godforsaken desert of a land he wanted to forget, was resurfacing.
A voice came from behind him. “Mr. Bartly, aren't there sharks in that water?”
Herb didn't know if there were sharks there or not, but he wanted to-had to-stay positive in light of their situation.
He looked back at Amy, a brown haired, brown eyed girl of ten. Her skin had turned a deep brown since they had gotten to the island. She was almost unrecognizable from the waif he had met at the airport only a few weeks before...
Sound hopeful, Herb, he told himself. You must.
“No, hon. I don't believe there are. Did you seen any on any of the tours we took?”
The young girl just stood there, eyes wide and shook her head. She made a sudden, small cry and Herb noticed that water had started lapping at the young girls' heels. They were losing precious real estate and the sandbar would be underwater soon with all seven of them with it.
Herb tried to force a smile. “Well then, there you go, Amy. We don't have to worry about sharks.” He knew better, but he had to make the child feel more confident to do what they needed to do next-make it to the raft.
Amy had inched closer to her uncle who had put his arms around her trying to look as if he were consoling her. Herb knew that she was trying to put up a brave front, but he could see the child's lips quivering.
Her uncle Benny patted her on the back. “Be a brave girl, now.” As soon as he said it, Benny pulled her arm from his waist and moved toward Randi, a young woman probably half his age. Herb knew that Amy's uncle had been trying to get into Randi's pants for the last week. But right now, the situation was dire and he needed everyone’s focus on getting to the raft--not a sexual conquest.
What a friggin' jerk. Herb bit his lip. Amy had been neglected by Benny since they had arrived on the small island of St. Calais. The girl had attached herself to him from the start and stayed as far from her uncle as possible.
“'Are you a Marine?'” Amy had asked Herb as they had piled into a van at the airport. That was when Herb first caught the girls attention.
“'Semper Fi.'” She had said matter-of-fact looking at Herb's forearm. “'My daddy was a Marine, too.'”
Herb had caught her eyes tearing up.
“'I...I miss him so much.'”
Herb just listened to Amy. Such an old ten-year-old. Her story was like so many of military families. Children who had to grow up fast and acted more like adults than most adults actually were. He saw this scenario with Amy's uncle Benny quickly enough as the group had progressed on the trip. He was a child in an adult's body.
“'He thinks he's all that,'” Amy said. “That mom made him come with me...'” She had started crying. “'My daddy was s'posed to come with me,'” she wept. “'We were gonna have fun and...and...I hate him!'”
“It's okay to feel hurt, Amy. You just need to realize that he would be here if he could and that he loved you very much.'”
Amy looked at Herb, her face wet. “I don't hate my daddy, Mr. Bartly. I was talking about Uncle Benny. He hates me, too.'”
“'Oh?'” Herb had looked down at the fair skinned girl.
“'Yeah, he's only bringing me cuz my mom made him. I wish I was home.'”
She told him of how her daddy had gone with the Seals on a mission—a secret mission—and that it had been a year since his disappearance.
“'We waited a year, Mr. Bartley, but mommy never heard from him. She got a letter one day last month and she cried. I think they listed him as offi...officully...
“Officially.” Herb helped.
“'Yes, that.'” She looked at the older man gratefully. “'Offi...cially as missing in action and pre..sumed...presumed...'”
Not able to finish, she started crying hard, burying her face in his shirt.
The ex-Marine remembered how Amy had stuck to him like glue, on most, if not all the tours their group took. She stayed as far from her uncle as she could. Benny was preoccupied with Randi most of the time, ignoring his niece completely.
That was almost two weeks ago. Before the island started to sink. Now the situation was tense and he had to save the group. He couldn't do it alone. “We'll be okay, hon.” Herb said, trying to be reassuring. “We just need to swim over to that raft.”
You've got to be brave, Herb. Save these people. They're counting on you. He looked back and saw Benny try to grasp Randi's butt. He was immediately slapped.
Well, most of them were.
Herb Bartley knew that he had to do everything he was trained to do and to remember always one crucial expression that had saved his ass more than once in Kuwait.
Semper Fi.
"So. You're famous?"
My son to Kinky Friedman at the author's book signing.
