فصل 95

joana

Our boat dropped down into the black water.

I screamed for Emilia.

Florian screamed for his pack.

Huge waves battered and tossed us. A woman vomited in her lap. A deep rumbling sounded from the ship as it slid farther beneath the water. The wandering boy stood up in our lifeboat, his tiny arms stretched up toward the ship. “Opi,” he wailed. “Opi!”

A tuft of white hair appeared. “I’m coming, Klaus!” echoed from above. The shoe poet leapt feetfirst off the ship, plummeting toward the sea.

“Poet!” I screamed.

He plunged into the water nearby. Florian handed me the baby and jumped up to dive in after him. A wave threw our boat and Florian stumbled, slamming onto the pin holding the oar. The wandering boy grabbed his coat. The boat pitched and hurled.

“Row away,” someone yelled. “When the ship goes under it will suck us down with it.”

“Wait,” said the wandering boy, frantically searching the water. “Wait for my Opi.”

“Heinz!” Florian called into the darkness, his voice breaking with emotion. “Heinz, are you there?”

But the shoe poet did not reappear.

Florian grabbed my arm. “The sack of coins. The old man tied the bag to his belt. He gave me his life vest.”

“Opi!” sobbed the wandering boy. “No, please, Opi.”

Poet.

Our blessed shoe poet. Our Opi.

Our one light in the darkness.

He was gone.