Lost

“Ryan, are you ready?” my step father asked.
“Yes,” I replied with a sigh. I didn’t really want to go on this blasted fishing trip anyway, but my mom thought it would be good bonding time with my step father.

“Let’s go!!” he said. He sounded so happy. But why? I don’t even like him that much. So why does he like me?

I put the fishing pole and tackle box in the back of the enormous red pickup truck and climbed in the front seat. He started the truck and we were off to the harbor.

I was staring out the window when I heard, “So what kind of fish do you think we will catch?” I had no idea what we would catch so I shrugged my shoulders and continued to gaze out the window blankly as the trees fly by. After about 5 minutes of this we reached the harbor. We unloaded the gear into the shiny white boat, Greg had a decal on the back of it was the name of the boat….The Oswald. Which was my mom’s name, but I don’t think he has any right to name his boat after my mom I mean the guy practically ruined my life. Greg got into the boat but I just stood there with a blank expression on my face.

“Well are you going to get in or do I have to force you?” he chuckled, amused with what he said. But I just continued staring…remembering my mom and dad yelling at each other, and me hiding up in my room waiting for it all to stop. This was all because of one night of bad judgment from him and my mom. It’s not like her ring is just for fashion it symbolizes something special.

Then I snapped back to reality, realized that he had asked me to get in the boat. Then I hoisted myself up on to the boat. I slipped into the blue and red life jacket and plopped down into the seat.

“So Ryan…” he paused as he started up the boat. “What are you going to use, live bait or a lure?”

“I’ll probably start with a lure then if that doesn’t work I’ll use live bait.” I answered with confidence.

“That sounds like a great plan, do you mind if I use your tactics?” He questioned curiously.

“No, I don’t mind,” I replied. He actually cares about how I’m going to fish. Maybe he’s not so bad after all, I thought.

We came to a good fishing spot and slowed the boat down and turned on the trolling motor. I hooked up my lure and Greg did the same. We casted our lines into the deep blue and placed them into the rod holder then sat back and reclined in the chairs with a coke in hand.

I took a sip from my coke and said, “What do you like most about fishing?”

“Oh I don’t know, maybe its being out in the ocean and enjoying the peace and quite,” came the thoughtful reply.

“Oh, cool,” I commented.

“What do you like about fishing, Ryan,” he questioned.

I pandered the questioned for a moment and answered, “The fish.”

We chuckled. Then the bell on my fishing pole started to ring. “Hey I got a bite!!” I said as I sprang out of my chair, snatched up my pole and started to reel furiously.

“Whoa slow down there tiger, we got all day,” said Greg as he stood next to me.

I was so caught up in the moment that I paid no attention to him at first, but then I decided to listen and slowed my and took a few deep breaths. The fish felt like it was huge. After about 10 minute this, sweat trickled down my forehead and cheeks and my arms ached and burned. When I finally got the fish onto the boat I saw it was a good sized grouper, I weighed it and it was good 350 pounds. A few hours passed and it was getting late.

“Well sport it looks like it’s time to head home. There’s a bad storm coming.” He pointed to a giant mass of dark clouds.

“Okay…I can’t believe how many fish we caught” I said. We caught a total of 13 fish.

“Me neither,” he said. Upset that he only caught 5 of those 13 fish.

Then the sky started to get black and the wind began to pick up speed. Huge waves started to form. Lightning struck the water furiously. The thunder started to yell at us. Then I looked to my left and saw a wave, easily five stories tall, racing towards us. I tapped Greg’s shoulder and pointed at the wave. He looked and saw the wave. He cursed under his breath as he tried to steer the boat so as to make a T shape with the wave. But it was too late. The wave was already upon us. I held onto the handrail. Closed my eyes and braced for impact.

It hit like a freight train. The storm blew the boat into oblivion. I was easily thrown fifty feet. I gasped for air and struggled to keep my head above water. That’s when I noticed I forgot to tighten my life jacket. Somehow it came off when I got tossed like a rag doll. I spotted it on a piece of wood; I swam over to it and tried to put it on. It wouldn’t go on. I put one arm through but the other wouldn’t go. I looked over, there was blood everywhere…a foot long piece of wood had stabbed clean through my arm. As soon as I saw it a sharp pain ran up my arm. Panicked, I tried to pull it out…not the best idea. It actually made it worse. I looked around but all I saw was a big cloud of thick red blood and the ocean…but no Greg. I screamed terrified “Greg where are you?” But there was no reply. I kept screaming and screaming hoping, no begging for someone to hear me. But no one answered.

“Kid! Hey kid!”

“What? Whose there?” I replied faintly, to a deep rough voice…that wasn’t Greg’s. I heard some whispering then I heard Greg.

“Ryan, wake up.” He reached out and grabbed my arm and pulled me up onto a boat.

“Where did you get the boat?” I asked. The boat was a canoe. Made completely out of wood. But it wasn’t manufactured in a factory it was handmade.

“Mark made it.” Greg replied softly, “Now get some sleep.”
I was about to say something when I drifted to sleep.

When I finally woke up, I looked around and saw I was on a tropical island somewhere in the ocean. I reached over to itch my arm and noticed that it had been bandaged with an old shirt that was covered in blood. I saw my arm and remembered everything, the storm, the wave, how I got injured, Greg and how a guy named mark saved us. Where are they I thought.

I got up and started to walk along the beach. I went about 20 yards when I heard some distant talking and laughing. I looked to my left and peered into the tropical forest but it didn’t seem to come from there. So I looked to my right out and saw Mark and Greg out in the canoe fishing with a spear and net. Mark looked back and saw me.

“Hey Ryan how are you feeling?” he shouted out across the water. He started to row back.

“I’m fine, just a little sore,” I replied.

They got to shore and pulled the boat up further on the beach. “Hey Mark lets show him what we made while he was asleep,”

“Okay,” Mark said. They lead me into the forest and we came to a small shelter made out of sticks and the roof was made out of huge overlapping palm leaves.

“This is amazing!!” I said ecstatically. “How long do you think we will be here?”

“Not very long, I hope,” Greg said “Tomorrow Mark and I will build a giant SOS on the beach.”

“Okay,” I replied. So I went into the shelter and found it had a bed in it. I went to the bed and was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

About six hours passed and I woke up to the sound of a plane flying over head and I sprinted down to the beach and saw that Greg and Mike were waving to the plane and I joined them. But the plane passed over head and continued on its way.

“They didn’t see us,” I said as a tear trickled down my check.

“Maybe there just going to get more fuel and then they’ll come back,” Mike sighed. So we went back to the shelter and waited. After about two hours after we heard a helicopter and we bolted out to the edge of the trees and saw it landing. On the side of it said United States Coast Guard.. A man stepped out of chopper and spotted us. He jogged toward us and asked us,

“Are you okay?”

“Yes” Greg said in replied.

“Okay let’s go, we’re going to get you guys home,” The man said. We followed him onto the helicopter and there some medics took care of our injuries. On of them gave me 15 stitches on each side of my arm. Then I strapped myself in and Greg and Mike did the same. The pilot got the thumbs up and we were on our way home.





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