The Mystery of Flight 2222 Page 8
Life is so precious. Maxine knew that. In death, she knew how cherished life is. May God have mercy on her soul. Kate, you would have loved her.
~~ ~~ ~~
The waves became higher and heavier as the day hours droned on. The wind was swirling and rotating the craft in irregular circles once again. Bailing water was the duty of the day if they were to prevent the sea from drowning them. In actuality, the bailing did take their minds off Maxine’s fate. The weeks so far of mechanically staying alive had taught them all what was expected of each without a word being said. Frank occasionally gave positive feedback to those who worked especially hard. He knew it helped that person to stay focused as well as letting others know what was expected of them. As his superiors had witnessed with his people skills back at the firm, he did indeed excel at this.
Maxine’s body was kept covered so as not to gross out everyone during the non-eating times as well as to keep it from decomposing faster in the sun and the wind. Frank, aided by Irving, had told everyone that her meat had to be eaten as quickly as possible, leaving the heart, kidneys, and liver until the end. The ‘food’ was only good for a short period of time. Maxine soon became ‘that over there.’ Continuing to use her name was unnerving to all.
~~ ~~ ~~
Otto was the least helpful of all. Sure, his broken arm was a physical handicap, but his large frame and immobility was sapping the strength of the rest. While asleep, his massive body often slid into the middle of their craft, making it difficult to get anything done and cramping the rest of the passengers’ spaces. Frank and the others knew he would never volunteer to perform any act of heroism as Maxine had done. No one would say it, but they could only wish for him to select the short straw at the first drawing.
I wish Otto could leave us somehow. My God, Kate, what should I do? What can we do?
~~ ~~ ~~
Otto stared at his unshapely right arm. He often moved his fingers, but the pain was just so much, but, as the days had turned to a week or more, the pain remarkably became less and, at times, gone. He wondered if he had gangrene, but he always thought the fingers would turn black and fall off with that disease process, and his fingers were the same color as his left hand. He thought about whether there was a time limit on getting his arm set and healed. Did the doctors have to get to him in a certain time to fix it, or would they just shake their heads and tell him it was inoperable? He didn’t know much about bones. What would a bar owner know about bones? Sure, many a bone was broken when he was in charge and in fights in his bar over the years, but the emergency people always picked these folks up and took them to the hospital. He never knew what happened to them or if their bones ever healed. He then thought of his kids. They were all grown up, but would any of them take over the bar or would they just sell it? After his divorce, he hadn’t had much to do with them. He’d left it equally to all of them, three of them, to do whatever they wanted.
So much for a legacy.
~~ ~~ ~~
“Over there! I see something. It’s a boat. I see a boat!” Kimberly screamed, pointing to the empty sea ahead of her.
“Where? Where is it?” Yuto asked, turning his head back and forth, trying to see where the vessel was.
“There. There. Can’t you see it?”
“I’m not sure,” Yuto’s voice dropped. “Are you sure you see something?”
“Goddamn it. I’m not crazy. Look, there,” Kimberly said with a distinct crackling voice coming from between dried lips.
Everyone was now searching the horizon for Kimberly’s boat, heads darting to and fro, but no one saw anything. The vigil continued for five to ten minutes, and eventually all eyes fell on Kimberly, some pitiful and others angry. Frank’s and Helen’s eyes met, them silently questioning whether Kimberly had actually seen something or had imagined the whole thing. Their conclusion was unanimous. Yuto, Soo Mi, and Irving returned to their chores before the commotion. Otto fell asleep, and Homer continued to search, trying desperately to pinpoint the boat Kimberly was still pointing out, although silently now.
“It’s gone. Jesus, it’s gone,” she said as tears burst from her eyes and loud, uncontrolled sobbing followed.
Soo Mi placed her arm around her, rocking back and forth to calm her.
“We should have shot off a flare,” Kimberly kept saying.
The sighting was never mentioned again. Time continued to pass almost unnoticed now. The days were taking their toll upon them.
Chapter Fourteen
The sound was horrendous. An upheaval of painful belching combined with guttural explosions was soon followed by Otto sitting up grabbing his chest, nostrils flaring, eyes bulging in disbelief, and small blue veins appearing on his red cheeks. He reached for the side of the raft, trying to lean over the side to vomit. He then collapsed in a twisted bulbous mass, slumped over the raft’s edge. His body slowly slid back into the center of the raft, drawn by its sheer size.
Frank stared in shock.
My God! He’s had a heart attack. He’s dead. This is so freaky.
“What happened?” Helen asked, her teeth clattering from fright.
“I think he just die heart tack,” Yuto answered.
Irving leaned over the body, trying to ascertain any breathing from the massive hulk. With his ear to Otto’s mouth, he felt for a pulse in the left wrist. The gradual blue hue of death became evident over Otto’s face and lips as Irving desperately attempted to find some sign of life. He finally looked up at everyone, shook his head, and flopped back to his place on the boat.
Time continued to pass slowly for all. It was impossible not to stare at the remains of their large comrade.
“Well, at least we don’t have to draw straws yet,” Homer said nonchalantly from underneath the cover over his head.
As if on automatic, all heads turned, and the survivors gazed intently at Homer’s body with disgust.
“Jesus, let’s be real. We’re here in a shitty situation. His death is a blessing for us. There’s a lot to eat,” Homer continued on from his hiding place.
Now that statement hit deep into everyone’s psyche. The reality of it all is now settling in. Look at their faces. Christ, this is so bad, Kate, I miss you so much; I love you.
Homer’s words lingered over the rest of them for a long time, each clearly contemplating the actual truth in them. Finally, Irving looked at Frank and Yuto and then at Maxine’s body. Not a word was spoken as the men moved to wrap her fleshless corpse in the tarp, slowly and reverently placing her on the side of the raft and bowing their heads in silent prayer before letting her body slide into the sea from the tarp. At first, she floated next to the raft as if she didn’t want to leave. She then separated from them and slowly submerged into its massive underwater grave. Frank rinsed and then folded the tarp while everyone watched Maxine disappear.
Irving let some time pass by before speaking. He leaned over, picked up the knife, and said, “Homer was right on one thing. We don’t have to draw straws.” He waited for any responses. None were forthcoming. “While we’re on the subject, I will, at some time, draw the short straw, and it could be the next time, so everyone here will need to know how to use this knife. I know it is sickening to many of you, but our situation demands not standing on ceremony. You need to watch and learn how to do this.”
As he looked around at each member, the responses to this ultimatum compelled Irving to add, “You have to learn to do this, damn it. There is absolutely no other option here.”
Look at these people. They are at their wit’s end. Thank God for Irving’s perseverance!
Irving started with Otto’s left leg just as he had with Maxine, but this time, the maroon texture of muscle did not appear. Instead, large yellow blobs oozed from underneath the knife and gradually billowed over the skin. He had to use an old rag and some of Maxine’s clothes to hold the slippery, fatty tissue back so he could continue cutting down to muscle. This entailed a much larger ‘T’ above and below Otto’s thigh.
The dissection took much longer than Frank expected because of the enormity of the individual Irving was cutting apart. The skin and blubber attached to it slid back and forth on the wet floor of the raft. It certainly was not a sight some could bear to witness. Unfortunately, Irving could not just throw the fat overboard for fear of the sharks returning.
Irving, focusing only on delivering the meat to his comrades, did not seem to realize the disgusting and barbaric condition he had exposed until he had stopped for a breather. He turned and witnessed the sullen faces that had been watching his actions, and then he must have known. To his credit, he also must have realized that he was keeping folks alive.
Fortunately for us, Irving is here to feed us. No one else here could have done this, including me. This ain’t crab cakes, Kate. My God, where am I?
Chapter Fifteen
The intermittent rains continued, always giving the survivors enough fresh water to quench their thirst and keep bodily functions from shutting down. By now, modesty had fallen by the wayside. Men urinated and defecated over the side, clearly not feeling the urge to hide anything. Women squatted and filled plastic bags, emptying then reusing them. They used small sections of Maxine’s and Otto’s clothes to wipe themselves after moving their bowels. No one seemed to care who saw what. In the back of their minds, they must have felt they were all either going to die or, if rescued, never attempt to see each other again, so it didn’t matter.
Otto’s flesh tasted differently than Maxine’s, but there was plenty of it. Realizing this, some of the survivors ate more with binging episodes followed by long periods of sleep. The major pig was Homer, a man, Frank suspected, destined to be the first to become unhinged emotionally. Kimberly was the next. She was almost psychologically and physically drawn to copy Homer’s actions to a lesser degree but more than the rest.
Could this binging and bloating be good for them? Should I be doing this? Kate, I’m so glad you’re not here.
Homer acted more and more like a dog who ate everything placed in front of him. He ate until he no longer had the strength to move. Granted, Otto presented a smorgasbord of sustenance, but Homer and Kimberly clearly did not realize that this, too, would be gone soon, and others taking their place would offer less. The gorging would have to stop. Even Soo Mi and Yuto began to act in a similar manner, obviously driven by the repetitive actions of the other cannibals. At times, hyenas could be daintier about their eating habits.
“Psst,” Frank whispered into Irving’s ear.
The rest had finished attacking the mass of meat in front of them.
“What?” Irving replied, rubbing his salt-crusted eyes.
“We can’t let these people binge like this. What happens when there’s no more Otto? His size makes them think the food is never going to run out.”
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. What are you proposing, Frank?”
Frank gazed down at the maroon-encrusted knife lying by Irving’s side. “You get the knife. We are going to have to protect the food source, man. If they don’t abide by reason, we’ll have to be forceful,” Frank insisted.
“Shit. So it’s come to this. Fighting among ourselves,” Irving said.
“Hey, we didn’t start the binge crap, you know. That idiot hippy over there went bullshit, and Kimberly and Soo Mi are being sucked into it,” Frank explained.
“I know, I know. Okay, we start tomorrow morning, telling them that we will have to ration the food, that binging is not a successful way for all of us to survive. They have to understand,” Irving said with a fixed stare into Frank’s eyes.
“And if dope-ass doesn’t understand?” Frank asked.
Irving shrugged, threw his hands up, and rolled over to sleep.
~~ ~~ ~~
Homer woke first, stretching toward the sky, yawning and reaching for one of the bottles of water. He chugged the precious fluid in one enormous sloppy gulp after another, and, before putting the bottle down, he eyed the monstrous flesh before him. His face changed from contentment to absolute frustration as he searched for the knife to break his brief fast. It was nowhere to be found. He crawled aimlessly over the others, pushing objects aside and peering under the slowly awakening passengers’ legs and arms for the chrome blade.
“Where’s the fucking knife, you bastards?” Homer shouted. He was on his knees threatening each person, pivoting around in the center of the craft. “You take it, shithead?” he yelled at Frank. “No, you, you piece of shit,” he confronted Yuto.
Suddenly, Homer was flat on his back bleeding from the side of his head and partially unconscious. Standing above him was Helen.
“I’ve had enough of your pigging out and mouthing off. We all have had it. I have the knife,” she said, holding an iron bar that she’d gotten from God knew where in her hand. “We are all going to listen to Frank and Irving from now on. No one is going to run this fucking show on his own and do whatever he wants. We are all in this together. Do you hear me?” she said, standing above him and screaming each word independently into Homer’s ear.
Homer groaned and nodded in the affirmative and pressed a rag to his swollen head. Frank and Irving looked at each other in amazement and smiled. Helen reached across Homer with the knife in her fist as if to stab him but passed by him and gave the knife to Irving. Homer winced as she moved back over him, truly believing she was going to cut him to pieces.
Now that is what I’ve been waiting for. That is what Kate would have done. No swearing, of course. Good job, Helen.
Chapter Sixteen
Frank twitched quickly awake as he heard, “Frank, you sleeping?” He rubbed his eyes to get the sleepiness from them and again heard, “Wake up, you sleepyhead.” It was Kate, standing over him brushing her teeth with one hand and twirling her hair with the other. “We’re going to miss the concert tonight if you can’t get your butt out of bed, now!”
“What concert?” he replied.
“Oh my gosh, have you gone daft? The Marble Heads, dopey.”
The Marble Heads had been Frank’s favorite band for years before he’d met Kate, and he had been trying all this time to get her to go to one of their concerts. She had heard them once and hadn’t been impressed, but she loved Frank so dearly that she’d said she felt it was her duty to go and pretend how ‘wonderful’ they were. She rubbed his head quickly back and forth to arouse his still, sleepy demeanor and then sat on the edge of the bed massaging his neck and shoulders.
Her massage felt invigorating, and he wished it would never stop.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Five-thirty, and the concert is at eight. You keep on lying in bed with your eyes slammed shut, we will never even have time to eat before it starts.”
Kate’s hands were like a professional masseuse, gently but rhythmically kneading his skin and superficial muscles. Her actions were intended to fully wake him, but, in fact, seemed to put him more at ease than rouse him. He loved this about her. It was one of the things that captivated him. She had this aura around her in just about everything she did, especially when it involved her touching him. Her soft warm breath on his face and neck increased his awareness of her and relaxed him even more. What she was doing now was not a sexual thing. When making love, her touch was much more arousing and at times sinful. This gentle, soothing, waxing and waning motion of her hands was meant to reassure him, cajole him, and keep him closer to her.
She made his entire body now feel as if it were floating on air. Soon, her soft breaths increased across his face and became stronger, and her fingers seemed to tighten into a firm grasp rather than how they’d been minutes before. It got to a point tha
t she was actually hurting him with her forceful deep plunging hands, all of which caused his eyes to suddenly pop open to divulge a foggy, blurred vision of a woman over him.
“Frank?” Helen asked. “Frank, wake up. That can’t be comfortable the way your neck is smashed up against that rubber handle and your face being pelted by the wind. Roll over.”
Frank shook his head to wake up and get a hold of himself as he reentered his world of hopelessness.
“Uh, thanks, it was getting to be unbearable. You were right.”
More unbearable than you’ll ever know.
Chapter Seventeen
After what seemed an eternity, there wasn’t much flesh left to eat on Otto’s corpse. They all said they felt like those ugly vultures picking at a skeleton of a deer on the side of a road. Only small pieces were left, hardly enough to eat, but there they were, and the crew couldn’t help themselves. No knife was needed to get to the loose carrion hanging off the thigh, leg, and ankle areas. What was most disturbing to all was the actual sight of the two broken bones in what was once Otto’s right arm, but the appearance of them did not deter them from obtaining any bit of food to eat.
Finally, they all decided what they had to do. Frank suggested that they rid themselves of Otto’s body but only when there was a hard wind that blew the raft around and caused it to float it a good distance from where they would drop the body. That way, they wouldn’t have to worry about the sharks upsetting the raft to get to them.