Let Go

28 Nov

He was sitting in a wooden life boat, suspended from the side of the cyclopian ocean liner.
Eddie.
In one of my dreams he would be navigating a schooner through the straits of Gibraltar.
Then the Outer Banks of North Carolina.
Eddie.
He and I went through hurricane Andrew together, back in ’92, in Homestead, Florida. We hunkered down in a concrete Toys-R-Us with a bottle of Captain Morgan and three cans of Coca-Cola.
He was sitting in a wooden life boat, suspended from the side of the cyclopian ocean liner. And I was shivering under a thin caul of a raincoat.
“When I get down, I’m going to row to shore and make a fire. Then, I’ll start digging holes into the beach.”
Eddie.
In between rainclouds I said: “there must be a five-story drop; can’t they just lower you nice and smoothly?”
I did not hear his reply.
In between rainclouds.
I thought: he will never survive the fall; the impact is too great.
I thought: how can someone make it through a devastating, cat-5 hurricane but die being launched in a life boat.
“Don’t ponder too much.”
And then he looked to starboard and nodded at someone.
“Remember, when you get to shore, you must start digging holes as well.”
He looked to starboard again and gave the thumbs up.
Nothing happened.
I thought: he will never survive the fall; the impact is too great.
But I could hardly hear myself through the wind and rain.
“Let go! Let go, for Chrissakes!”
The cable snapped off suddenly, and he disappeared below, into the dark, tumultuous waters of the Atlantic ocean.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: