The Deepest Waters, A Novel by Dan Walsh Read Free Book Online Page B

. . . I’m getting more nervous about following through.”
    “We don’t have to go,” he said gently, though he wanted to badly.
    “I’ve been to the Apollo once with my brother. But I just sat watching all the other young ladies, how well they dance—”
    He reached for her hand; he didn’t realize he’d done it until it was too late. “Laura, I’m only going there to dance with one young lady. Truth is, we’ll probably both be terrible.” She laughed but, more importantly, she didn’t pull her hand away. Then he said, “I took dance lessons my mother forced on me in my youth. I’ve never even been to a real dance before.”
    She squeezed his hand. “Is that true?”
    “Laura, if you dance with me at the Apollo tonight, it will be the first dance I’ve ever had with someone I have asked myself.”
    She smiled. And she’d given him a look that felt more like a wonderful prize. “Then I will dance with you tonight, Mr. Foster.”
    They’d continued to walk along the bay a bit farther from there, looking at the sunset, looking at each other. She’d held her hat with one hand and his hand with the other. But just as the sunset had faded then, it was fading now on the raft.
    John closed his eyes, not wanting the memory to fade as well. He lay back on the raft, replaying the best parts over and over in his mind.

11
     
    “Fear is such a peculiar thing.”
    When John opened his eyes, he saw stars. He must have drifted off. By the accent he knew it was Ramón. “What?” John asked.
    “Think about it. We have this raincoat because a man died. And he died because of a fear that he might die. Can anything be more ironic?”
    John sat up. Between the stars and the light of a half-moon he could see surprisingly well.
    His stomach growled, but he felt stronger than he had all day. Amazing what a little rest and fresh water can do. The sticky saltwater feeling was also gone. He was surprised that he wasn’t freezing and thought how much harder this ordeal might have been had it happened in October or November.
    “If he had not been afraid,” Ramón continued, “he would be alive right now, and it is we who might be dead tomorrow.”
    “I felt like I was dying today before the storm,” Robert said. “Never drank rain before, but it was the most refreshing thing I ever tasted.”
    “You know this coat full of water will give us trouble tomorrow,” said Ramón.
    “Why is that?” asked John.
    “Look around. All these men floating with us are fine now. They drank their fill of rain. But come midday tomorrow they’re going to realize . . . we’re the only ones with any water left.”
    “You’re right,” said Robert. “If we ration it between ourselves, it’ll last all day tomorrow, maybe a few days.”
    “And if we share it with the others,” said Ramón, “it will be gone in one sitting.”
    John looked out at the other men floating on the ocean. He couldn’t see the outlying edges of the group, but it seemed they had lost a few more while he slept. “I think we should share it,” he said. “Another storm could come.”
    “Or not,” said Robert. “And we’ll have nothing.” He stared at the coat like it was full of gold nuggets. “I don’t want to face another afternoon like today. I say anyone comes after this, and we fight. It’s every man for himself now.”
    “Really,” John said. “Where would you be right now if I’d thought like that yesterday?”
    Robert glared at him.
    “And what about this coat,” said John. “I could have taken it off out there, grabbed hold of the door the man was clinging to, and kept all this water to myself.”
    Ramón smiled. “Has a point there, Robert.”
    “But you didn’t,” Robert said. “And the way you nodded off like that . . . I’d say if you did, you’d have fallen asleep and the water would have spilled out. And you’d have nothing. We were all tired, but we were the ones catching the rain so the coat could fill