The Castaways Read Free Page A

drank together, bending our heads to the pool. Even Benjamin Penny, who had surely never once lifted one of his webbed hands to help another, took to diving below the boat to feed us all. He saw fishes down there sometimes, but wasn’t fast enough to catch one. Instead, he brought up sponges and long-necked barnacles that he plucked from the boat’s weed-covered bottom. We developed a taste for the baby mussels in their blue-black shells.
    But the fishings ended with the appearance of a great shark. It sliced its fin across the waves one day, then round and round the boat. It never drew away, except to come back in a mad rush straight toward us. Sometimes it thumped against the planks with its back or its tail, and then we all clung to the boat, shouting together.
    “It’s an omen,” said Midgely “Sharks, they smell death. That’s what the sailors say. If a shark appears, a sailor’s going to hop the twig.”
    White as a ghost, it swam slow circles around us. It was always there as we drifted steadily south.
    At night we dreamed of food. We all did, as though sleep kept us as close together as we were through the days. I dreamed of muffins and pies, Midgely of lemonade ices. The pangs of hunger and thirst that greeted us all every morning became too much to bear. Boggis was the first to drink seawater.
    It made him violently ill, and taught a lesson that was never forgotten by anyone—except little Midgely He took to lapping up—like a cat—the pools of salt water that collected at the stringers and the bilge. It only made him thirsty; the more he drank, the more he craved.
    Midgely kept his vile habit so secret that I thought it was the fever that made him shiver and shake. I came to believe that he was not long for the world, that he was dying from the heat and the misery. I did my best to keep him comfortable, but the nights grew colder and colder. We saw an iceberg to the south of us, as big as a castle, with a blue gleam in its center that made me think of my diamond. Poor Midgely hauled himself up the shattered side of the boat, though he had scarcely strength to move. He turned his blind eyes to the south and begged me to see the iceberg for him.
    “It’s beautiful,” I said. My voice was hoarse; it pained me to speak. “It’s white and shining. There’s arches and spires.”
    “Like the pearly gates?” asked Midgely.
    “Yes,” I said. He seemed very close to heaven then, and he must have thought so himself. It was only the next morning that Midgely talked of drawing lots.
    The sun was just rising, and there was a thin mist—like smoke—on the sea. Midge held my arm and whispered. “It’s what sailors do,” he said. “They draw lots, Tom. First to see who does the killing. Then they draw again to see who dies. The first fellow gives that second one a bash with the axe and rolls him over the side. That way there’s no screaming. No fuss.”
    The very idea disturbed me. “Why would we do that?” I asked.
    He whispered in my ear. “To save the others, Tom. There ain’t enough food and water for five of us. But there might be enough for four.”
    “Only for a while,” said I. “Then there would be enough for three. Then for two. Then—”
    “But Tom,” said Midge in a whisper. “If we don’t do nothing we’re
all
doomed.”
    “I’d rather be doomed,” I said.
    Midgely insisted. He raised his voice until Benjamin Penny woke and called out from the bow, “What’s he talking about?”
    “Never you mind,” I said. “The fever’s giving him mad ideas.”
    The boat was rocking, groaning, on the swells. There was water oozing through every seam. Midgely drew me close. “Listen, Tom,” he said. “There’s more.”
    I could feel his breath on my cheek. His fingers were icy cold.
    “It’s going to be
him
,” he whispered. “I know it, Tom. Like I said we’d see them islands, and we did? That’s how I know. It’s going to be Benjamin Penny who goes over the side.”
    “I