War of waves

How long had it been? The stench of salt and unknown marine life was surrounding me. Penetrating my overworked nostrils without any mercy. The heavy fog was starting a war between my eyes and brain. Neither one capable of figuring out what was happening behind the untouchable humidity. Uncertainty and fear had conquered every cell in my body slowly killing the child of hope within me. Rodger told me to get some sleep, maybe from fear of me going crazy, or maybe for concern of me dying sooner that anticipated. The duality of life was truly astonishing one moment, you sit on a ship, never worrying about another glass of champagne, knowing every wasted drop would be replaced with a mere glance to your left; the next, you’re saving every precious drop of water, praying it will last as long as possible. Had I known that my privileged life would be the reason of my doom, I would have handed out more of it. Auctioned out bits and pieces to lighten the load. Make every peasant carry a piece of my burden while giving the poor unfortunate souls another reason to be grateful they are around my presence. Perhaps then my dear papa would have handed me the business and not my overly emotional older brother who could easily have been mistaken for a woman with his unreasonable demeanour. He was lucky he wasn’t in my current position, or he would have faced death the second he found himself in the lifeboat. He was lucky that an actual man took on this sort of burden for him. 

“Stop thinking about your brother, he is not here” A cold and tired voice said. Of course, the voice belonged to none other than the one man that was quick enough to get in the boat with me. “What are you, some sort of mythical creature capable of reading minds?” I said with irritation spilling over my voice. My voice froze for a second, like it was stuck in my throat, my brothers smug and undeserving face still vividly painted across my mind. A small wave then decides to greet our small world, brining my voice back. “I think you are getting ahead of yourself, Mr Rodger, why would you even assume I would be thinking about my brother in this situation?” My voice came out harsher than I initially intended but still delivered the message. “You are not exactly subtle, you know? Muttering to yourself about ‘dear papa’ and burdens. I am frankly quite surprised you have yet to start a eulogy.” “I was not muttering; maybe the ocean air is getting to you, Mr Rodger, or are you confusing the sound of waves with my voice now?” I snapped. But as the words left me, doubt began taking a seat beside me. Had I thought out loud? The line between my thoughts and voice had started getting a bit blurry within all the foggy haze, exhaustion and survival. “sure” Rodger said, his voice smooth and insisted. “None of that matters out here, does it, Sir Parker? Neither your brother nor dear papa is here. There is only the two of us and the vast ocean since you were so quick to crown yourself king of this lifeboat while others screamed and scrambled behind you. But then again there hadn’t been time to look back. Or had there? Perhaps not, there couldn’t have been. The chaos, the water swallowing everything, had I not acted quickly, even I would have been left behind.” He stopped for a second, easing up his gaze, but his words had cut deeper than I wanted to admit. Then he continued “well maybe it was for the better, we had enough resources to survive for as long as possible, we would probably have needed to get rid of the other people along the way anyway. However, if you want to survive you better start thinking about something other than your family drama.” 

I didn’t have to justify myself to Rodger or anyone else for that matter. However, his words lingered in the air like they were performing a deathly dance with the fog, clinging to it. Then, as the fog grew thicker and waves stronger “You think you are this big iron wall” Rodger’s voice seemed to get louder with the waves, almost like the two were competing for the spotlight. “UNSHAKABLE, UNTOUCHABLE. SOME IMPENETRABLE FORTRESS NO ONE’S EVER BEEN ABLE TO STORM. I BET IF POSEIDON HIMSELF AROSE OUT OF THE SEA AND DEMANDED ANSWERS, YOU’D THINK YOU COULD OUTWIT HIM.” His words hit like the waves, ruthless, squeezing out every drop of composure I had left. Before I even had the chance to answer, Rodger leaned closer, his eyes sharp, his tone harsher and lower. “But you are not a fortress. You are in fact not even a wall. You are an open book with the most predictable plot imaginable, your pages are practically blowing in the wind for anyone to read at this point.” He stopped, his gaze locking onto mine. The fog pressed in, thick and stifling as if it was trying to become part of my lungs, choking me slowly. His stare was too much, too sharp and I could barely meet it. My throat was dry and my head drier, unable to come up with anything to throw back at him. Then he chuckled low, almost dismissive, relaxing his composure as if the last minutes were nothing but my imagination. The shift in his tone was almost cruel in casualness. “I was just joking with you” he said, waving a hand as if the whole rant was a joke that simply had a bad punchline. “Take it easy, you were just frowning again, like you did when Sir Richard brought up your brother at that god-awful formal dinner” he then sat straight while his eyes were stuck on the barrier of fog around us. “As I was saying, Sir parker, you should get some sleep.” 

The lifeboat rocked gently beneath me, however the motion felt more nauseating than soothing. My mind could not be quite for even a second. Every creak of the wood, every splash of water, everything just felt like a countdown ticking away the time I was running out of. Rodgers words lingered in the air, stroking my brain; pride, privilege, burdens. He was obviously wrong. The man barely knew me, how could he possibly? But no matter how much I wanted to dismiss him, his voice refused to leave my thoughts like the fog seeping into every corner of the boat. I turned to my side to force myself to sleep, but my throat was dry, burning. I needed water. Just a sip. I reached for the bottle that was waiting in the corner of the boat, my fingers were fumbling in the dark until I felt my end goal. Empty. The metal edge felt heavier in my had than it should have, like it was mocking me. My chest tightened as anger bubbled to the surface. “Rodger” his name felt like poison on my tongue as I hissed at him while sitting up. “You drank the last water, didn’t you?” He was leaning back at the end of the boat, his silhouette barely visible in the fog. For once, he simply answered with silence. “I told you we needed to save as much as possible” I snapped. “but you just could not help yourself, could you? And what do we do now? Are we supposed to make it rain?”. I looked up and although I could not see the sky, frustration came over me and I released it to the open; “I DEMAND YOU TO BRING ME RAIN THIS INSTACE!” following was nothing but silence and the waves crashing into the side of the boat. I was hit, no, I was punched in the face with the bitter contrast of my life and so I joined the silence for a second.

Rodger’s voice came, smooth and calm, cutting through the fog like a knife. “I told you to collect rainwater the other day, didn’t I? But like always your pride prevented you from doing so. Convincing you that you’re above that, thinking that you are no peasant to collect raindrops like coins and that the rain should instead come for you when you decide it should”. My fist clenched around the bottle. “You drank it, if you were planning on wasting every drop, you should have collected the water.” I responded while a bit of my confidence slipped away. There was something in his voice, something sharp and knowing, making my stomach twist. The fog felt heavier now. “Did I?” his tone almost amused. “Or was it you, Sir Parker? Wasn’t it two nights ago when you thought no one was watching? When the thirst consumed you and you told yourself it did not matter because it would rain soon anyway?” It felt like the ocean had finally swallowed me whole. My breath stopped. The memory came back, uninvited: the bottle in my hand, the sweet water hitting my tongue while I was surrounded by the dark endless night. My heart, pounding, louder than the rough waves. Rodger’s voice softened, almost pitying. “Face it, Sir Parker.” he said “This has never been about me. It’s about you, your pride, your choices. It has always been.” The feeling of my sticky and damped clothes almost felt like a cage and my hands could not stop shaking. Maybe it was the weather or maybe it was the fact that Rodger saw through me. “How do you know that?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “How could you possibly-” without letting me finish Rodger simply said in a low and intimate voice “I told you, you are an open book.” It started raining. 

I turned to him, desperate to find something in his face, a clue that he was simply trying to mess with me again, but the fog was thinner now, fading like smoke in the air. Rodger’s silhouette however seemed determined to follow it, the edges of his figure blending into the horizon. “Oh, Parker…” he said but this time his voice carried a weight I could not understand. “haven’t you realized? Can you truly feel the rain? Are the waves really as present as you think they are?” He sighed. “I think we should go to sleep now, don't you agree?"