Numb: The Ritual Forgotten - Part Six

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Louis was awakened by the growling of his stomach. A fresh morning sun and a glistening lake being the first site he saw. Not exactly a bad way to start a day, he thought. He tried to move but soon realized that William was sleeping on top of him. Discretely he placed his hand on his son’s forehead. It burned at the touch, and Louis quickly withdrew.

Louis shook his head in denial of the situation, “Someone will come, and he’ll be fine.”

But he wasn’t. Louis had done all he could with the medical equipment available, a first-aid kit most likely from some dollar store. Louis’ wound had cleaned out easily, it was simple a cut and the fresh water of the lake had washed it out enough to avoid infection. But with William the wound was more than a cut, it was a lesion, the skin was torn rather than severed. Plus, somewhere in this rollercoaster of events whatever had caused the damage had also found its way into the wound. Examining it, Louis found it to be bright red, a particularly nasty scab formed over it as whatever had not yet healed gushed a fluid the consistency of toothpaste.

Louis knew a few things about wounds. He knew that if this became a problem William would have to have the leg amputated, or the infection would spread up the body and through the blood stream to the brain. Inevitably killing William.

The boy stirred but did not wake. All the better, thought Louis. The less of this he has to feel the better.

Carefully Louis scooped the head of William off of his lap, rose, and set it down softly on the wooden deck. His side ached and he stretched and walked across to the Steering Room, he had checked all the equipment last night, but anything was worth another shot. First he checked the radio, no go, flooded out. Second the steering controls, this he already knew was helpless because all power of propulsion came from the bottom deck, which at the moment was filled with water.

Louis’ stomach growled again as the acids of his stomach began to eat away at nothing. Louis curled into the fetal position and began rocking back and forth until the pain subsided. The last meal he had was two days ago, and the ramifications of which were now more than apparent.

When the pain subsided Louis rose again, hunching slightly as to not stretch his stomach. He hoped that as the day wore on he would slowly lose that feeling of emptiness, as his stomach would learn not to have as much food.

Or a drink, he thought darkly. He had not touched a drink in nearly three years, but now, on this morning lit deck he found himself craving it for the first time in years. Sure he would admit to having thought about drinking once or twice, not even to get drunk, no. Just to do it. But now, now it was stronger than ever. It was that feeling that you’re suppose to have only once, and that being directly after you go cold turkey on the stuff.

William awoke with a soft moan. “Mommy I don’t want to go to school today,” issued dreamily from his lips.

Louis couldn’t stand it. Mommy! He’s thinking of mom right now while I’m standing here with him! This wasn’t only a thought, it was an insult. An insult to Louis in the deepest regions of his mind. How could he think of “mommy?” Was “mommy” here when the storm erupted around us? Was “mommy” here when the waves knocked the boat on its side? Was “mommy” there when he was trapped inside the Recreation Hall with only a pocket of air separated him from death? Maybe I should just ring his “mommy” loving little neck!

“No!” Louis screamed, slamming his fist on the controls. Suddenly the compass that had failed him so miserably during the storm began pointed unmistakably at North. “Yeah, sure. Work now you blasted thing!”

“Is something working?” William asked excitedly. His voice no longer held as much innocence, it rasped with dryness and stress.

“No son,” Louis responded. “Nothing’s working. Nothing on this whole son of a bitch ship-”

“Daddy! Don’t swear!”

Louis shuddered with rage. Under his breath he mumbled, “Don’t tell me what to do.” Though William didn’t hear this. All William heard was the controlled response, “Alright William, Daddy will watch his language around you.”

William smiled feverishly and stood up. His wounded leg trembled beneath him as he hobbled over to the side of the boat and reached down for a handful of water. Scooping it into his mouth he knew immediately something wasn’t right.

“Daddy?” he whined.

Louis, who had begun fiddling with the radio, slammed his screwdriver down in frustration. “What!” he snapped.

“This water tastes funny.”

“Then go get it from the other side of the boat and let me get to work!”

William didn’t understand the impatience and hysterical quality of his father’s voice. He merely hobbled over to the other side of the boat and tried to get another drink. As soon as the water hit his tongue, he knew this was something his dad had to know about.

“Daddy?” he whined again in the same tone.

“What! Is this water funny tasting to?”

“Uh-huh.”

Breathing heavily in anger Louis rose from a demolished chair and approached William. When he was no more than a foot away from him Louis began the chastisement.

“Listen to me now William! Never! I repeat: never! Bother me when I’m working.”

“But daddy…”

“‘But daddy…’” he spat back, imitating the child. “‘There’s something funny about the water.’ There is nothing wrong with this water! And I will prove it to you.” With one hand Louis scooped some of the lake water into his hands and drank it. The frustrated look on his face contorted into one of disgust. Smelling his hand, all expressions died. “Great. Just great,” he remarked sarcastically. He put his hands on William’s shoulders and looked him square in the eye. Something about his father didn’t seem quite like normal and William tensed under his touch. “Okay William, you were right his time. Don’t drink that water.”

“Why, what’s wrong with it?”

“We have a fuel leak,” Louis said matter of factly as though it were an everyday problem. Not that it was the kind of thing that happened every day, it was just one more in a long list of problems that they had to deal with. “Nothing I can do about it,” he added releasing William and walking back into the steering room. “Just guess we’ll have to go on without water now.”

The pain in William’s leg grew steadily worse and he sat down. The gravity of what was happening was too much to bear, and the fact that he didn’t understand everything that was happening made him believe it was his duty to clear things up.

“But Daddy,” he said, “we can’t live without water.”

“Shut up!”