Stormy Waters

Pulo lay flat on the floating wooden plank. He had resigned to his fate. He would go wherever the waves would take him if he would even be alive when they got him there. 

All around him, as far as his eyes could see was water. Today, the sun seemed to burn harder than it had the day before. He felt as though its rays instantly evaporated the little fluid that remained in his system. He kept drifting in and out of consciousness and had lost track of how many days it had been since the storm. Every time he came back, whether day or night, he would be surprised to find himself still alive. 

On occasion, hungry birds would swoop down and peck at him thinking he was already dead. Pulo would try to swat them with the little energy he had left. Sometimes he would grunt. Some birds wouldn't even be scared away. They seemed to hang around the plank seemingly waiting for his spirit to finally leave his body so that they would begin their feast. They could tell his end was near. Pulo dreaded encountering a shark. He knew that would be the end. 

He also felt the greatest thirst he had ever felt in his life. He was now contemplating drinking his own urine if he even had it in him as the water below had proven to be too salty. He couldn't take drinking it anymore. It made him even thirstier. 

Some nights some light rain had fallen and he had opened his mouth to be quenched by it. This had helped him hold on a little longer. 

"Wait till the cloud passes," he remembered his mother warning him. " It's too early. Let's see which direction the winds will blow and you can go fishing then. Remember what happened to your father. I would die if history repeated itself. The gods of the seas are not always known for their mercy. They don't play fair either. " 

Pulo deeply regretted ignoring his mother's advice. He wished that he could turn back time. 

Once his mother had turned, he jumped on the canoe and sailed into the deep waters. He intended to catch just enough fish for his mother to sell the next day at the market and not three days' supply as he usually did. The next day he planned to catch more. Later in the day, he planned to attend the home game his team was participating in. They had never had a visiting team play their grounds and he wished to witness this once-in-a-lifetime event. Everyone would be there. And as deputy captain of the team, he had to be there. 

Life was slow in their little beach town. Nothing much happened apart from some sightings of tourists who spent their time mainly in their resorts and selected beaches. Since they had started the football club, things had gotten more exciting. There was much more to do for village boys other than just fishing and harvesting coconut for the markets. 

Pulo's mind went to his mother. Maybe she thought he was dead already. It had only been the two of them, and now it was only her. He didn't want to come to terms with the agony she might be feeling at the moment especially when he knew she had warned him. It had already been a few days and with no rescue team in sight, he imagined they had all assumed the storm had swallowed him with it. 

His mind also went to his father. How he had missed him. He was the one who had taught him to sail and fish. Every time he went out there, he would feel the water with his hand. Sometimes he would bring a flower and watch it drift away. It made him feel closer to his father. He wished he had always been home with them. 

What agony it might have been for this exact thing to have happened to him. Pulo was about ten when it happened. His mother had always reminded him of the story. She had warned him about going out fishing when the skies weren't clear but his father had murmured that he knew the ocean better than his wife who had never even set sail in her entire life. 

" Mother should know you attract what you keep mentioning," Pulo thought to himself. 

He was looking for a scapegoat. Torturing himself with the thoughts of his own miscalculations had stretched beyond his elastic limit. He needed someone else to blame his tragedy on. Sometimes he found himself wishing that the body would just give up and his agony would be over as so far, it seemed that that was the end that was waiting for him. The thought overpowered him and he was gone. 

***

Pulo felt his legs kicking suddenly. It wasn't liquid his feet were touching this time but something solid. In his hazes, it felt like sand. In his mouth, he could taste fresh water. It's as though it was being forced on him. In his weakness, he thought he was dreaming. He tried to open his eyes but he was too weak to see. He could hear a voice as though in an echo calling his name. 

"Pulo … Pulo my boy… wake up! Pulo my boy…! Drink!"  

He forced himself to swallow the water but could not comprehend the rest. He would choke on the water, but he would keep trying. He kept drifting in and out. Each time experiencing the same things. Was it a dream? A hallucination? 

When he woke up next, he found himself in a thatched hut. The style looked familiar, but he could not recognize the hut. He felt weak but not as thirsty as he had been the last time he remembered. He tried to open his eyes, slowly. From the side, he could see a little boy looking down at him. Next thing, he was running out calling.

"Papa… papa… he has woken up! Papa…" 

Pulo then saw a man running back with the little boy. 

" Pulo… Pulo…" came the voice.

Pulo thought he recognised it. It sounded like the voice of his father. He realised he could still remember it. He hoped these were not the hallucinations of a dying young man. Was he still back in the ocean and all these were coping tricks his mind was playing on him? 

The man came and lifted him. He then sat next to him and fed him coconut water. Pulo resonated with his touch. The whole feeling was very familiar. It felt like home, but he was still too weak to fully comprehend it all. He tried to brush his thoughts away. It would be too painful to entertain such thoughts and then wake up and find that it was just a dream. 

He went back to sleep. This time at least he could tell he was sleeping. 

In the coming days while laying in the hut, he was nursed back to stability. Slowly he was recovering, and that is when he could piece it all together when the story was told to him. 

The man and his son were out collecting fallen coconuts by the beach when they saw a floating plank of a canoe with several birds perching on it. The man curious about the sight, dived into the water to go and inspect it only to find a young man barely alive on it. When the man had pulled him ashore and tried to nurse him, to his astonishment, he had seen a familiar face!

Years earlier, the same thing had happened to him. He had awoken on a strange sparsely populated remote island after encountering a fierce storm in the ocean. Unable to return home after the tragedy, a few years later, he decided to start a new life on the island. Now, it seems his son had washed into the same tropical island under very similar circumstances. 

Pulo burst out into tears. They were both tears of joy and relief. Joy that fate had brought him to his father, and relief that he had not died in the deep oceans. 

They both could not believe the path fate had taken them!

His father hugged him tightly trying to hold back his own tears. He understood exactly what his son had been through and hoped to project strength to help him in his recovery. He did not understand how he had made it as he was not only younger but had less experience at sea. His canoe had also been completely destroyed leaving him on a single plank. This was a miracle. The gods had not just been merciful, but it seems they also had a sense of humour. 

When he was better, the two would try to piece out how many days he had been in the water. 

After a few weeks of bonding, catching up and Pulo meeting his new family, the two decided they were going to build a strong canoe and find their way back to Pulo's mother no matter how long it took them. They hoped they could trace the way back. Whether it was for a visit or a stay, they wanted her to know they were still alive. She deserved to know this. 

This time around, before setting sail, they would heed the warnings she had given them.

Maybe it was the blessing they needed. They knew it would help them stay safe.