The ceaseless movement of the dinghy had stopped bothering her. In fact, the rhythmic rocking had soothed her. Marguerite no longer held out any hope that they would be rescued. The eternal darkness that she was in because of her blindness lessened somewhat when it was daylight and she realized another day had arrived. Her fingers felt the notches in the wooden slat that made up part of a short ladder. They had been adrift for thirty days. Marguerite picked up her nail file, and sawed back and forth until a new dent noted another day. It was only then that she thought of her companion.
Robert had grown increasingly quiet over the last few days, and she said, tentatively,
"Robert?"
"What?" he growled.
Shocked, she realized he was very close to her--too close. She put out her arm. When her hand found him, he jerked away from her and the boat rocked more quickly.
"What were you doing?" she asked, her voice quavering.
"Nothing," he said. "I was watching you mark the wood. What's the point of marking how long we have been here? There's hardly any food left and you know we are both going to die."
"We don't know that. We might still be found. It happens."
"We haven't seen any sign of a ship for at least two weeks. We have probably drifted out of the common sea lanes."
Marguerite did not answer. She was remembering the events of a month ago. They had been on a four-master, on a birthday cruise for her friend, Shirley. Shirley had invited five of her very best friends and their significant others. Marguerite was a kind of tagalong. They felt sorry for her because of her blindess and Shirley had tacked her on at the very last minute. How she wished she had not come.
Shirley had brought along the latest boys' band combo. They were on the verge of becoming the next overnight sensation, and she had been able to get them in a lull between gigs. They obviously thought they were going to have a free vacation, but it was their damn drug taking that got them in this mess. They were freebasing in the hold, using the cook's torch to warm the spoon. Someone had dropped it and their music books had caught fire. Instead of staying to put out the fire, Robert and the others had panicked and run for the gangway. The fire got too much of a hold and they had all abandoned ship.
Marguerite, unable to see, had been swept up by someone in the general confusion, and put into this dinghy. She had counted the thuds as eleven others had landed on the thick rubbery bottom of the boat, and then listened to the confused shouting, smelling the acrid smoke, and holding tightly to the ropes on the side. She kept very still in all the madness, trying to make herself as small and out of the way as she could.
The members of the band had all managed to get into this one dinghy. She was the only woman and the others were passengers. One of them had been badly burned and soon had succumbed to his injuries. A band member, deprived of his drugs, had slipped into dementia and thrown himself overboard about the third day, quickly followed by another trying to save him. They were quickly separated from the boat, and their cries grown fainter and fainter. There was no attempt to organize their supplies, and soon it was everyone for himself. One man, thirstier than the rest scooped a tin mug of sea water and drank it. She heard him raving, and then suddenly the dinghy rocked wildly, his screaming was cut off by a gulp, and she heard him not more. A fight had broken out, and Robert, with a hatchet in his hand, had covered her body with his own. She crouched down in the bottom of the boat, with her fingers in her ears, while the dinghy lurched and rocked from the melee within it. She must have lost consciousness. When she was aware again, she and Robert were the only ones left. From the nature of his silence when she asked what had happened, she decided to say no more.
That was some time ago, and she knew there was no more food left. They had been able to rig up a canvas to collect rain water, but that was running out. Robert had stopped talking to her a few days ago, and the incident this morning had made her scared of him. She felt the boat respond to a sudden movement. Instinctively, the slat in her hand, she raised her arms above her and ducked to one side. There was a swish of air and she realized that Robert had rushed past her. The slat was pulled out of her hand. She heard a splash, and then the boat rocking. Stretching her along side of the boat, she found the slat, and then the connecting chain. Robert's booted foot was entangled in the ladder, and he was hanging upside down over the edge of the dinghy. He was struggling to get his head out of the water and get back into the boat. Instead of helping him, she drew as far away from him as she could, and waited until the sounds died away and all was calm again.