Fear is all in your head. Choose to be brave, and you'll have all the courage you need.
It popped into my head, as if he had whispered it in my ear. A strange sort of calm settled across my shoulders, sending a sensation of warmth and confidence surging through me. I could do this. It would be difficult, but I could do this. I had to do this. I had to get Robbie to a doctor. The image of his pale face and clammy skin made me tighten my grip on the wheel. I had to be brave for Robbie.
I smiled at the storm. "I'm not scared of you," I said. I let the wind whip my words up into the sky, and I gave my best devil-may-care grin. If I was going out, they would find me smiling on the bottom of the lake still steering the boat. But I wasn't going out. I was going to win.
The sky was light enough that I could see the rigging against the clouds. The sky was still an angry black, but I could tell the sun had come up. The wheel squirmed like an impatient child and I didn't dare let go of it to check the time. I just had to get there fast enough to help Robbie. It didn't matter what time a clock said it was.
The radio chirped and chattered, the VHF bursting into life. The others were out of the storm or heading for home. Someone had a broken mast. I wished I could pick up the radio and relay my status. I screamed at the radio that my skipper was injured, but without a free hand to press the button, nothing went through. I didn't dare let go of the wheel, even to put it on autopilot. I was using every muscle I in my entire body to keep our heading. Every second was a battle to maintain control of the boat.
The shoreline in the distance emerged from the gloom of the rain, thin and almost translucent. I felt like crying for joy. I didn't dare to cry, though. I needed to see clearly; I knew this was the dangerous part, the part where it was easy to forget what I was doing, easy to think I was safe. I was in just as much danger here as I was out on the open water; the land was too far away to help me if I got sloppy.
The wind blew perpendicular into the sails, thankfully coming from just one side. I was reaching along, just making sure the wind didn't switch. I didn't even glance at my speed on the dial. It didn't matter. As long as my sails were pulling me along course, I didn't care. All that mattered was getting to shore as quickly as possible and getting Robbie to a doctor.
The waves had changed their sound. The watery fingers that had threatened my boat, tossing Robbie and me around like driftwood, were calmer here. The rain still fell, but I could see through it now. I wasn't sure if it just wasn't falling as hard, or if I had just grown numb to the stinging power of the droplets. Lightning still flashed, but the thunder no longer shook the sails. The wind was still screaming in the rigging, though, and I was sure I would never be able to hear again after hours of listening to the deafening noise.
I sailed through the breakwater of the marina, turning my sails into the wind as I approached the dock. Since the mainsail was no longer directly catching the wind, it flopped and danced like a fish out of water. I stared at it, barely registering that the racket it was making was dangerous. Men in yellow raincoats pointed toward my sail as I glided into a slip, yelling words I didn't understand. I knew it was English, but my brain was too tired to make out the words.
The boat slid slowly to a stop, and I let go of the wheel. My fingers ached, and I had to struggle to release it. The sail was still flapping and clattering in the wind. I had to tie it down. I could feel myself screaming as I ran to the lines, sheeting the sail so that the men could come aboard.
"MY SKIPPER!" I shouted as I pulled down the sail, desperate for the men on the dock to save Robbie. I prayed he was still okay. I hadn't been able to check on him, and I was terrified that he might have gone into shock. I needed him to be all right. I needed him to be there when I woke up tomorrow.
Three men tied my boat to the dock, ignoring the rain and the wind as if it didn't exist. I didn't care about the boat. I just wanted them to save Robbie.
I secured the sail, knowing they wouldn't come aboard until it was safe, and as soon as the knot was tied, I was at the hatch. I bounded down the steps, my tears mixing with the rain as I ran to him. Please, please, please... I chanted silently. The cabin seemed to stretch out into infinity as I crossed the space to him.
He was still tied in place, his skin cold and clammy. He gave me a weak smile as I pulled violently at the lee cloths holding him in place. The icepack had melted long ago, and I threw the bag of water on the floor. I touched his cheek. His green eyes were glassy and full of pain.
"We've got him now," a kind voice said behind me, pushing me gently out of the way. A burly sailor with a bushy beard and swarthy features picked Robbie up as though he were a child. An ambulance was waiting by the dock, the red and blue lights swirling in the windy rain. I followed the big man carrying Robbie until we reached the ambulance. I needed to go with him, but the doors closed before I could step in.
I dropped to my knees on the asphalt, the rain running in rivers down the street. I didn't care. Robbie was safe. I had succeeded. I knew they would take care of him. Kind hands lifted me from the ground, and I was half carried to a truck. The motor was running, and it was warm inside. I didn't even remember hearing the door shut before I fell asleep.
Chapter 19
The room was dark, and I could hear rain on the window. Something had awakened me, but I wasn't sure what, so I sat up slowly in the unfamiliar room. There was a dull pressure behind my left eye; I wondered if going back to sleep would make it go away. I knew it wouldn't, but getting up and finding some medicine seemed like a worse choice than just staying in bed and dealing with the pain. Every muscle of my body ached, and any movement sent tendrils of fire into my limbs. To say that I had overdone it yesterday was an understatement. I had never pushed my body as hard or as fast as I had in that storm.
I knew I needed at least a glass of water and a potty break if I was going to go back to sleep. I coaxed my weak body to sit on the edge of the bed, letting my feet dangle just above the cold, hardwood floor. The room was decorated with a cheerful maritime theme, and I could hear activity in the rooms below. Dark curtains kept whatever sunshine was outside at bay and gave me no concept of time. I remembered someone with strong hands placing me in a car and taking me from dock. There was a blurry memory of someone guiding me to a room and pulling back the covers on the bed before I collapsed and fell into a blissful sleep.
I ran a hand through my hair, feeling twists and tangles all snarled together. I groaned slightly, thinking of how terrible it was going to be to brush it out. Maybe just shaving it off would be easier. I hadn't even changed out of my sailing gear, and I felt dirty and gross. A hot shower suddenly sounded like the most amazing idea in the entire world, followed by medicine, and going back to sleep for a week.