Safe Harbour

Despite the movement of the water, he caught it effortlessly, and the winch hauled him up. It seemed a miracle that they had both managed to get out of the water and into the boat. And as Matt assessed the situation, he decided it would be faster to sail. The wind had turned and come up powerfully, and he thought he could get to shore faster under sail. He put the sails back up, while she got a blanket from the cabin and covered the boy, as he looked at her with dying eyes. She knew that look, and had seen it twice on Chad when he'd attempted suicide. But with every ounce of her being, she vowed to save this child. He'd obviously gone out on a surfboard and been swept away, on a riptide probably, and gone out so far there was no hope of his getting back. Only a miracle had brought them to just the right spot at just the right time. And Matt looked intent as he sailed toward shore, and after a moment he shouted to her that there was a bottle of brandy in the cabin, and told her to give some to the boy. But Ophélie was quick to shake her head, and he didn't understand. He told her again, thinking she hadn't heard him. Not knowing what else to do, she got under the blanket with the trembling boy and held him close to her, hoping that her own body warmth might help keep him alive until they got to shore. Matt pointed to the tiller then and went inside to the radio. He reached the Coast Guard in less time than he had hoped, and told them that he had a major medical emergency onboard, and was heading to land. He believed he would get back to shore before they could reach him, and asked them to have paramedics waiting for him on shore, or to try and catch up with him by boat if they could.

They were halfway back when the wind began to die down, and he took down the sails again and started the engine back up. It was a straight shot back to the beach by then, and land was in plain sight, as Matt looked intent, and kept glancing at Ophélie with the boy in her arms. He had been unconscious for the last twenty minutes and looked nearly dead. Ophélie's face was white.

“Are you okay?” he shouted at her, and she nodded, but it was an all-too-familiar scene for her, and reminded her excruciatingly of Chad. All she wanted now was to save this boy, so his mother would never have to live all that she had. “How is he?”

“Still alive.” She had him pressed against her, and she was soaking wet underneath the blanket, but she didn't care or notice. The sun was beating down on them, and their lazy pleasure sail had become a race against death.

“Why didn't you give him the brandy?” Matt asked, trying to force the engine to go faster. He had never pushed the boat this hard, nor had to, but she hadn't let him down yet.

“It would have killed him,” she said, looking frantic, he was so limp and cold in her arms, but she could still feel the slightest pulse. He wasn't gone yet. “It would have pulled all his circulation to his extremities, he needs the blood in his trunk, for his heart.” Despite the fact that his limbs now felt like ice, but whatever circulation he still had was where he needed it most.

“Thank God you knew that,” Matt said, as he prayed silently to get the boy back in time. They were nearly at the mouth of the lagoon by then. They were only minutes away from help, and as they came out of the ocean into the lagoon, they could hear sirens and see lights at the end of the beach nearest to them. Without hesitating, Matt pulled the boat up to a stranger's dock. There were people gathered, watching, as half a dozen paramedics jumped onboard and Ophélie rolled back and struggled to her feet on the deck. She was sobbing as she watched them check him and then take him on a gurney, as one of the paramedics looked back at her and held a thumb of victory in the air with a smile. He was still alive. She was shaking violently as Matt took a step across the deck to her and held her in his arms. She was sobbing as he did and two men off a fire truck stepped gingerly onboard.

“You saved that kid's life,” the senior officer said with admiration. “Did anyone get his name?” All Ophélie could do was shake her head, as Matt explained to them what had happened and they took down a report, and congratulated them again. It was another half-hour before the fire trucks left, and Matt put the engine on again, and motored slowly toward his dock. Ophélie was too shaken to even speak, and she sat next to him trembling, as he kept an arm firmly around her shoulders.

“I'm sorry, Ophélie.” He knew without effort what it must have reminded her of, and done to her. “I just thought we'd have a nice sail.”

“We did. We saved his life, and his mother's heart.” If he lived. No one could be sure yet, but at least he had a chance. He had none whatsoever out where they found him, clinging to his board, which they had abandoned. Matt hadn't wanted to waste time trying to get it onboard.