They're sending a boat in two days

Geraldine's story  

 

They're sending a big boat in a day or two"

 

When this theme came up on a cold December day in front of Sarah’s fire place, I didn’t realize for one second how difficult it would be.

Even more difficult having let 7 long weeks go by without even having given it a thought ! 

With so many friends and family here to greet Christmas together, so many meals to prepare and share, so many games to play with the grand’children, and then my Australian grandaughter Margot sharing our life till last week, the big boat got lost in the fogs !

Of course, not having Paula’s talent (and not being a journalist either), I can’t just sit here at the last minute and scoop up two or three ideas and make it look like something !

Of course, not being Sarah, I haven’t thought of 5 or 6 versions to  dispatch, all better than the previous one or how to cut them down to a reasonnable lenght !

Of course, not being Patrice, I can’t just sit down and start writing about whatever I’m feeling like writing, even if the topic is miles away from what is expected : I don’t have the guts !

The first thing I could see, where these boats full of migrants , most of them not knowing how to swim, taking all the possible risks to escape from the places they lived in for all reasons people like me and us can’t imagine, being lucky enough to live in democracies.  And because nothing is light or easy any more, despite democracy, I wanted to keep in the Christmas and New Year spirit trying not to get involved in painfull situations.

As you know, we are sailors and have had quite a bit of experience at being in trouble at  sea with our sailing boat.  So I tried something around this.  Being lost somewhere, and not wanting the help that would be sent to us.  I picked up my old World Atlas to find a few lost islands, then went checking on Google Earth to see what they looked like, how we could shelter, how we could feed ourselves, if we had time to stay around for a while before dying of thirst or hunger.  This took me to the Galapagos islands where I opted for the « Isla Pinta », quite apart from the main island, with a small creek on the Southern coast where we could have sheltered.  And distant from Ecuador for more than 1000 kms i.e. 540   nautic miles.  But no story came to my mind !

Then, I imagined this little boy having the worst possible nightmare : in the middle of the ocean, having to fight against a whale  who was far from being as nice as the one who sheltered Pinocchio in his tummy to help him escape the sharks.  At the climax of the story, when all was lost, he would wake up, holding his little pecker, pouring warm liquid around him before realizing he was wetting his bed, and oh ! that’s the last thing that could have happened to him, being in boarding school where any bed wetter was condemned to walk through the dormitory carrying his wet sheet in front of him.  Shame !  But I couldn’t write this story without recalling very bad memories from boarding school myslef !  Although I never wet my bed !

A few more ideas popped up around the merchant navy, a boat looking for us in the Tranquility Sea on the moon, something around the North Pole, with polar bears surrounding us and so forth.

Then, last but not least, I put on the computer in order not to come empty-handed and not to sink before the big boat would catch up with me !

 

They’re Sending a Boat in a Day or Two… from Annemarie

   Fred took hold of the soggy pigeon, ducked indoors from the teeming rain and untwined the stone from the  belly of the exhausted bird.

   “They’re sending a boat out in a day or two,” he deciphered, “we’ll have to get them ready, Wilma.”

   Meanwhile six months previously, in another land, a white-bearded man with curly, snow-white hair and exhausted eyebrows, a man as old as antiquity, had grumbled to his almost-as-venerably-old sons:

“Fancy asking me at 600years old, to build a boat and with just you three to help.. and in just six months. But it’s God's wish, his design.”

  Shem had drawn the plans according to God's requirement. He’d calculated cubits, gathered gopherwood and set his brawnier brothers, Shem and Japheth, to building the vessel. Finally finished, Noah thought it looked more like a wooden box with a roof, an ark in fact, than a boat but he was pleased, nonetheless, with his quincentennial-plus sons.

    Fine drizzle heralded a constant splattering of rain as they loaded banana trees, bamboo, grass and insects in preparation for the pairs of animals already corralled alongside Noah’s  remaining visible land. There was stamping and trumpeting, growling and snapping alongside exuberant beasts wallowing in the muddy grounds. The cacophony of sounds increased as Ham and Japheth eased, encouraged and coerced recalcitrant rhinos and rambunctious apes up the ramp and into newly constructed enclosures, coops and aviaries. Noah had arranged for as many pairs of each animal as possible to be rescued; of course not too many as Darwin had not yet been born.

   The drizzle turned to a deluge drowning trees, fields and habitations. Rivulets turned to streams which morphed into rivers and torrents filling the creeks, gullies and valleys; the waters lashed the Ark; the elephants lashed their trunks, while raindrops dripped off the long curved lashes sweeping their elephant eyes. The wind and the wolves howled, their eyes tight and nostrils flared.  Breezes turned to gusts, gusts to gales and wind whistled through the gopherwood gaps. The Ark rocked backwards , forwards, from side to side as the animals kicked, stampeded, cowered or clung with claws to roosts. Birds shrieked and flapped their wings in sheer fright and lisping snakes sneaked in corners.

The Ark rolled its way on the waters that now flooded  the disappearing land as they set off for just two more beasts.

   Amid a miasma of foul-smelling wet animal fur, the steaming stench of malodorous poo, pee and sea -sickness Noah’s family spent the voyage shoving food into one end of the animals and shovelling excrement from the other end. Noah himself spent the time incising a reassuring message in clay, which he attached to the belly of his best trained pigeon and sent it off.

A few days later.

   “Here comes the boat!” shouted Fred to his wife. They were soaking wet , on the lookout above the cave. Drenched to the skin they led Dino and his mate towards the Ark, now swaying at anchor nearby.  Despite strenuous efforts it was impossible to drive these gargantuan creatures into the ark. God in his wisdom, or was it his planning (?), had not allowed enough cubits to save and shelter these gigantic beasts. In the ensuing chaos the sabre-toothed tigers escaped and were responsible for the disappearance of Fred and Wilma. The Ark floated on for another thirty days without that last pair …and that, my friends, is why dinosaurs became extinct!

 ______________________________________________________

Paula

All the creatures in the animal kingdom were very excited. The word was out: “They’re sending a big boat in a day or two!” All the animals, the birds, the insects, the reptiles, and their mates were preparing. 

 

The creatures, being very intuitive, could sense something big was about to happen. Something bad. It was time to leave their paradise, on this big boat that apparently was coming for them. They sensed that the big boat meant safety, and ensured the survival of each of their species.

 

And sure enough, in two days’ time, a massive wooden ark appeared at the shoreline. The doors opened, a ramp was lowered, and the animals, the reptiles, the insects and the birds, all entered, two by two. Inside, it was warm and cozy, with spaces especially assigned to each species, ranged across the many decks. The creatures settled down for what would prove to be a 40-day and 40-night slog through the greatest flood any of them had ever experienced.

 

But that afternoon, as the ark finally pulled away from the makeshift pier, the sun was shining, and two beautiful white unicorns, symbols of purity and grace, were gallivanting in the forest, playfully butting each other with the large spiraling horns that nestled in the center of their foreheads. They stopped suddenly and trotted up onto a large hill overlooking the sea, and watched as the ark disappeared over the horizon. 

 

“Uh-oh,” one of them said to the other. “Was that today?”

 

 

______________________________________________________

 

Jackie

Another boat in two days

She’d had kids young, very young.  2 boys.  Naughtly, lively, rough,  tumble and constantly hungry.   The older boy born from a first 17 year old love affaire in high school;  from birth He was stocky in stature even as a baby, a solid mass of boy a difficult baby, crying, fisting and fighting back about everything,   A permanent scowl on his face, impatient and aggressive. 

He wouldn’t hesitate to hit his cowering little brother on the head to get the toy he wanted.     

Father of the second boy had freckles, smiles and soft blond hair with blue blue eyes.  She had fallen in love at 20 and married this calm natured man but they were seperated after she discovered that he was “too quiet”.     His son a chubby baby face with the same blond curls and sweet disposition. Full of giggles, loving hugs and although weaker in character was in awe of his big brother but also slightly afraid.

She was busy keeping house, a full time job and making ends meet.   The father of the younget boy came by from time to time causing jealousy between the brothers .   He took them out treated them the same but it was never regular and she hardly had any time to herself.       Television was on in their small one bedroom home non-stop;  the only way to keep the boys occupied and quiet for a time.  They watched everything, films, cartoons, games and the news.  She couldn’t check what they watched as she was too preoccupied so leaving them alone most of the day.

It was probably this special edition of the news that caught their eye.   Images of several boats full of people squashed together .  Men herding families, men, women and children onto a beach who were made to wade in the freezing water throwing their small belongings into the dingys.   The waves catching the small boats throwing the people about like toys.  

The journalist was describing the migrants crossing the channel, relating and showing the reels of the boats full to the brim with children and adults.   Although too young to understand the boys watched open mouthed as masked men in black anoraks pushed people like sardines into small boats, shouting and screaming insults piling the most people they could into boats – the younger boy put his fist in his mouth holding back tears biting on his thumb, wimpering , cringing and started to cry. 

The older boy smiled, clamping his fists and grinding his teeth enjoying the spectacle.

“Bath time” the young mother turned off the TV  herded them into the bathroom.     Pouring bubble bath and lego people and toys into the warm water she half closed the door and went back to making supper.

The older boy jumped with glee and said lets play migrants.  Oh yes, lets …I’m the chief.  They gathered together several plastic vessels and divided them up into rescues and migrants.   The older boy started to heave little lego people into a boat  and “up up away in you go” and launched the boat into the bathwater  creating waves with his hands  then all of a sudden plunged the boat down laughing his head off screaming and shouting  “drown”, “drown” capsized the little boat and all the people fell into the bottom of the bath - The sweet younger boy frightened by his behaviour stood up in the warm bathwater – slipped on the bar of soap and sank down into the pink rosy bubbles..     With a gleam in his eye – the images of the TV reportage  still in his head he pushed the younger one .    who slipped down in the soapy water, hit his head on the side and slowly sank – alarmed the older boy jumped out of the bath went to fetch his mother … I’ll rescue you the older boy shouted back don’t worry there ll be another boat in two days time.