The Stranger in the Lifeboat by Mitch Albom Read Free Book Online Page A

were the random items that we plucked from the waves: a tray, a tennis ball, a seat cushion, a yoga mat, a plastic tub of pens and notebooks—which is how I am able to write you right now—and a car magazine, which, despite having been soaked and dried many times, has been read by nearly everyone in the raft. It reminds us of the world we left behind.
    We also had the clothes we were wearing when we escaped the sinking ship: long pants, button-down shirts, Mrs. Laghari’s blue gown. Perhaps the material will prove useful.
    Nobody spoke much as I recorded the items in my notebook. We knew the food and water would not sustain usmuch longer. We have made vain attempts at catching fish—from trying to club them to trying to grab them over the raft sides—but without a hook, there is not much chance. I don’t know why hooks were not in the ditch bag. Geri says it all depends on who packs it.
    Lambert, who was eyeballing the items, suddenly blurted out: “Do you know what my fund did last year?”
    Nobody responded. Nobody cared.
    â€œEight billion,” he said anyhow.
    â€œWhat difference does your money make now?” Nina asked.
    â€œIt makes all the difference,” Lambert said. “It’s my money that will keep people looking for us. And it’s my money that will ultimately find whoever destroyed the Galaxy . If it takes the rest of my life, I will hunt down the animal who did this to me.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about, Jason?” Mrs. Laghari said. “Nobody knows what happened on the boat.”
    â€œ I know!” Lambert bellowed. “That yacht was top shelf. Every last detail was looked after. There’s no way it sinks on its own. Somebody sabotaged it!”
    He scratched his head, then looked at his fingers. “Maybe they were trying to kill me,” he mumbled. “Well, ha ha, you little pricks. I’m still here.”
    He looked at me, but I avoided his gaze. I was thinkingabout Dobby. I was thinking how much we both hated this man.
    Lambert turned to the Lord, who was smiling.
    â€œWhat are you grinning at, Looney Tunes?”
    The Lord said nothing.
    â€œFor what it’s worth, if you really are God, I never called for you. Not once. Not even in the water.”
    â€œAnd yet I still listen,” the Lord said.
    â€œStop talking, Jason!” Nina snapped.
    Lambert glared at her. “How did you get on my yacht? What do you do?”
    â€œI style hair for the guests.”
    â€œOh, right,” Lambert said. “And you, Jean Philippe, the kitchen, correct?”
    Jean Philippe nodded.
    â€œAnd you, scribble boy. Benji. How come I don’t know what I pay you to do?”
    I felt his eyes on me. My body roiled inside. I’d worked on the Galaxy for five months. He still had no clue who I was. But I knew him.
    â€œDeckhand,” I said.
    Lambert grunted. “A deckhand, a haircutter, and a cook. Really useful out here.”
    â€œGive it a rest, Jason,” Geri said. “Benji, you got this written down yet?”
    â€œAlmost,” I replied.
    â€œI’m just going to say this now,” Nina blurted out. “If something bad happens”—she pointed at Lambert—“it’s because of him!”
    â€œYeahhhup. It’ll all be my fault,” Lambert answered. “Except, hey, look, nothing’s happening. Oh, well.”
    Just then, I noticed the Lord putting his hand over the side of the raft. It dangled in the water. I found that strange.
    A moment later, the rubber floor thudded sharply, as if something were trying to punch its way through.
    â€œSharks!” Geri yelled.
    Before we could absorb those words, the floor thudded again. Then, suddenly, the raft shot forward and we all tumbled over. It stopped after a few seconds, spun to the left, then shot forward again.
    â€œThey’re dragging us!” Geri yelled. “Hold on!”
    Everyone grabbed for the