My First Love and Other Disasters (19 page)

“I told you we're not going to find them,” Jim says to me. “We're only one little boat on this whole great big bay. No way we can find them if they're even out here. They're probably back on shore and we're risking our necks for nothing. God, what a dumb idea.”

All the while he's talking to him I'm busy searching the water. I don't even look at him. I may not ever look at him again in my entire life.

“Come on,” Barry tells him, “it was worth a try. The more people looking the better the chances of finding them.”

“Baloney. They're back at the dock,” Jim says, and I pray like crazy that this time he's right.

A bolt of lightning cuts through the rain and I jump six inches off the floor. I'm terrified of lightning on the water. I'm about to ask Barry what would ground the lightning on this boat, but I'm afraid he'll say “us,” so I just swallow the question. I always knew I should have listened in that damn science class.

Just as we're making the last turn I think I spot something.

“Wait! Wait!” I'm shouting and pointing over the side. “Over there!” But over there keeps changing because the boat is rolling so much. Whatever I saw is gone.

Barry circles the area I was pointing to, but there's nothing there. The rain is coming down in sheets now, and Barry turns the boat lights on—not that it helps us see, but at least other boats can see us.

We search blindly for another ten or fifteen minutes and don't see a thing. I've never felt so bad in my whole life.

“Hey, look!” Barry suddenly shouts, pointing to something off the right side of the boat. “There
is
something there!”

It takes all three of us to turn the boat and keep it heading into the wind. Whatever's in front of us now isn't very far away, but the going is so rough we can only inch along. A couple of times we lose sight of the thing, but Barry keeps the boat straight on fourty south on the compass. We're practically on top of it before we see it again.

It's the boat with the kids and Mr. Landry!

I don't even bother saying, “I told you so,” to Jim. I'm so relieved to see them, even Mr. Landry, that tears well up in my eyes and I practically begin bawling out loud.

The kids are huddled together in front of the mast in the cockpit, in water almost up to their
waists. Mr. Landry is at the tiller trying to steer but doing nothing but spinning in circles. The sail is torn and flying in all directions. That must have been why they got lost. A sailboat's useless without a sail.

The kids go crazy when they see us. They start jumping up and down and waving, and we shout to them to sit down, but they can't hear us over the motor and the storm. We motion wildly for them to sit. Mr. Landry gets the idea and with one hand still on the tiller leans way over and pulls them down.

Barry motions for Jim to take the wheel and tells him to head off the bow of the other boat. He's going to make a grab for their mast.

Mr. Landry sees what we're trying to do. He moves to the mast and wraps one arm around it and holds out the other to Barry.

Jim swings the boat around twice, but both times it's too wide and they miss each other. I hold on to Barry's leg so he can lean out farther.

Again Jim makes a pass at the little boat, and this time Barry grabs Mr. Landry's hand. But a wave hits our boat and it breaks their grip. When the wave hits the dinghy it catches Mr. Landry off balance, and we all watch in horror as he slips off the narrow deck and into the water on the opposite side of their boat.

I can hear the kids screaming and I start to scream myself. Barry grabs one of the lines and
dives off after Mr. Landry. The kids are hysterical and hanging over the side. I know they're going to fall in any second.

“Head into their boat,” I shout to Jim, “and I'll try to jump in.”

“Take the line with you!” he calls to me as I crawl along the side of the boat up to the bow.

I take a line and wrap it around my waist. I don't even know why or how it'll help, but it seems like a good idea. I turn back to Jim and he's nodding his head yes. It must be right.

We head in toward the dinghy and I set myself to leap. I have no sneakers. It's slippery. I don't have a life preserver and I'm scared to death. But I have to get to those kids because if I don't do it fast they're going to be in the water.

Our boat's coming in closer. I can't wait too long to jump because one big wave can take us past their boat in a second and then we'll have to make an entire turn, which could be too late.

The little dinghy is still pretty far away but I'm so afraid of another wave that I let it come only a tiny bit closer and make my leap.

It's got to be the biggest jump I ever made in my life. I feel like I'm flying, and then I hit their deck and slide right into the mast. I made it!

In two seconds I'm in the cockpit and I've got both kids down with me and I undo the line around
my waist and wrap it around the mainsail cleat. There's a jerk and we go flying after the bigger boat. We're attached.

Meanwhile, Barry's got the line around Mr. Landry and he's hanging on to the side of our boat.

“I'm going to bring him over to my boat,” he shouts up at us. “You'll tip if we try to get in.”

And with his arm under Mr. Landry's chest, he gets him over to the speedboat. Mr. Landry looks so limp it's scary, but I tell the kids everything's okay, he's going to be fine.

Barry and Jim manage to get Mr. Landry into the boat, and he collapses into a heap in the cockpit. Jim doesn't lose anytime getting us out of there, and even though it takes us almost an hour to get back to the pier and we're sitting in waist-high water we're dumb enough to feel that we've made it. In fact we're all smiling. Even Jim.

Wouldn't you know it, just as we're getting in, the rain stops and it's practically calm by the time we reach the pier. It probably looks like the whole thing was a snap.

The pier is jammed with people. Practically all of Ocean Beach is down at the docks. Cynthia is right in front and she's crying and laughing, and when we hand the kids up she nearly devours them with hugs and kisses. David will be complaining about that for the next month.

Even Mr. Landry isn't in as bad shape as I thought. They have to help him on to the pier and he looks weak and exhausted, but he can stand on his own two feet. Not so steady, but he's standing.

I dread the moment when Cynthia calms down and sees me and Mr. Landry. I can tell Mr. Landry dreads it too. Everybody is jumping around and making a big fuss, and even the Coast Guard is there. They're using walkie-talkies and calling in all their boats, and it turns out they even had helicopters out looking for us. And everybody wants to know what happened and everyone's talking at once so nobody knows what actually happened, but we're all happy and smiling and exhilarated.

Barry and I try to help Mr. Landry because he really is wobbly. The kids see us and run to him. “Grandpa! Grandpa!” they both shout and start pulling him by the hand and hugging him.

Cynthia just stands there looking at him. God! This is going to be horrendous.

The kids keep pulling at Mr. Landry, and he keeps shaking his head no and urging them to go along with their mother and saying he'll catch up later.

All the time Cynthia just keeps staring at him. I can't believe she's going to be so mean to that poor old man.

“Henry,” she finally says, and you can't tell from her tone if it's good or bad.

“Hello, Cynthia,” Mr. Landry says, and you can see he's really embarrassed and very uncomfortable. He mumbles something about how it turned out to be quite a mess and how he's really sorry for it, but the kids cut him off, shouting how he's the best sailor in the whole world.

“Oh, Mommy,” David says, “you should see how Grandpa steered the boat even with those big waves and he wasn't afraid of anything. Right, Grandpa?”

“Well, David,” Mr. Landry says, “now that it's over I gotta admit it was a little hairy there for a while, but you and your sister were so brave I knew we'd make it.”

“We were scared when you fell off, Grandpa,” DeeDee says, hugging his legs. “I was crying, and you were too, David.”

“You fell overboard?” Cynthia asks, horrified.

“I was not crying,” David says, sounding like his old self.

“You were too,” DeeDee says.

“Well,” he says, “that's only because it was Grandpa and I thought he was going to drown and that's why.”

Cynthia stands there with her mouth open while Barry tells her the story of how Mr. Landry
climbed up on top of the boat and hung off trying to reach him and how he'd slipped. Barry leaves out the whole part about how he saved Mr. Landry's life.

But Mr. Landry puts that right and shakes Barry's hand and thanks him and then hugs him and everybody smiles and it's hero time and you should see Barry's face. Is it red!

Cynthia keeps watching Mr. Landry, and there he is with the kids hanging off him, dripping wet and looking sort of frail and really old, and finally she comes over to him and puts her arm around his shoulder and says, softly, “I'm glad you're safe.”

“Thanks,” Mr. Landry says, smiling, and all the time his eyes are full of tears. “I'm sorry, very sorry, Cynthia . . . and you, too”—and he looks at me very apologetically, except he can't remember my name—“uh . . . mother's helper . . . very sorry for what I did . . .”

“Forget it, Henry,” Cynthia says before I can say anything. “I was a fool to tell you to stay away from your own grandchildren. I don't know what I thought I was accomplishing.” Then she stands back and looks at him. “What a mess! We have to get you into some dry clothes.”

“Oh, that's okay,” he says. “As soon as I get back to the city—”

“Are you kidding? You're not going back to the city like that.”

“Sure I am, it's not so bad. A little damp here and there.”

“Henry,” she says, “I'm not going to hear another word. You're coming back to the house with us, and we're going to round up some clothes for you, and you're going to take a good rest—for about a week.”

“A week!” DeeDee exclaims. “Whee!”

“Hey, that's neat,” says David. “We can do lots more fishing.”

“Well, Cynthia,” Mr. Landry says, and you can see he's so close to tears he can hardly talk, “if . . . you're sure . . .”

“I am absolutely sure, Henry, absolutely.” And she gives him a hug and a big smack-type kiss on the cheek. The kids are jumping up and down, out of their heads with joy. Mr. Landry is all smiles.

Me too. I couldn't bear the thought of anything else bad happening to that old man.

“I think we all deserve a little celebration,” Jim pipes up. “How about it? A drink for the heroes.” And then he looks at me. “And for the heroine.”

“Hooray for the heroine!” Barry shouts, and now my face gets all red.

Barry asks everyone to be quiet, and then he tells how I jumped across to the dinghy to get to the kids before they fell in and he makes it sound
like Wonder Woman at work. When he finishes everyone says, “Hooray!” and I think I'm going to the of embarrassment.

I don't believe this whole scene, but I have to admit it feels great.

“Thank you,” Cynthia says to me, “for what you did . . . for all of us.” And she looks like she's going to cry, and I feel like I am too.

“I'm really sorry, Cynthia,” I say. “You were right to be angry with me. If I didn't go against you, none of this would have happened.”

“Maybe not,” she says, “but the more I think about it the more I feel the mistake was mine. I made a bad decision and expected you to carry it out. It wasn't fair to you, to the kids . . . to anyone.”

“All along I felt bad about doing it behind your back,” I say to her. “I'm sorry about that.”

“Well, when you think about it,” she says, “blindly following a bad decision is a lot worse.” Cynthia looks really pleased with me and I feel terrific.

It's turning out to be a sensational day and I feel proud. I hope it doesn't show too much in my face.

“You
should
feel proud,” Cynthia says, smiling at me.

There goes my see-through face again.

“How about it?” Jim says. “Should we head for The Monkey?”

“Not me,” Barry answers. “I just want to get home and get these wet clothes off. If you want to come with me”—and he looks mainly at me—“I can offer you some iced tea.”

“I'll pass on the iced tea, thanks anyway,” Jim says, and then turns to me. “How about it? You want to hit The Monkey for a while?”

He's asking
me
. Jim actually wants
me
to come with him. All my plotting and planning, all that's happened, finally pays off. I can't believe it.

“Thanks,” I tell him, actually both of them, “but I think I should go home with the kids. After what they've been through today I think I should stick with them.”

“Sure thing,” Barry says. “You have a raincheck for anytime you want.”

“Thanks,” I tell him, “and thanks for helping me. Both of you. It would have been a disaster if you both hadn't been so together.” But I'm looking directly at Barry as I say it.

Then Cynthia thanks them both and Mr. Landry thanks them again and Cynthia thanks me again and this could go on forever except, thank goodness, DeeDee starts jumping around a lot saying she has to make pee-pee and everyone laughs and we all start back.

All five of us tramp into the house, all wet and sandy, and the phone is ringing. David picks it up.

“It's your mommy,” he says and hands it to me.

This is going to be rough.

I'm out in rough water
swimming as hard as I can to reach a buoy that keeps moving and bobbing away from me. I'm just about to grab it when something small and soft slides into my hand and pulls at it. I think it's a fish and try to get my hand away, but the little something holds tighter and tighter. I jump up and, of course, I'm in my bed and the little fish is DeeDee, who stands there at the side of my bed, holding my hand and grinning her cute smile with the missing teeth.