Wandering Thoughts

Corey was bungee tied to steering wheel as he navigated through the Pacific Ocean in his dad’s 60 foot sailboat. I was wearing a neon life jacket for the all good it would do if I was to fall overboard. With my over-reactive imagination, I had already envisioned a demise similar to Leonardo DiCaprio’s in Titanic. I was also feeling slightly claustrophobic, despite being in the middle of the ocean. Only an hour earlier I had woken up for our graveyard shift drenched in sweat with a killer headache. Did alcohol hit you harder on a boat?

“Are you cold?” Corey’s voice started me out of my half-asleep, rampant thoughts.

“Kind of. It’s not so bad though.” It was now 3 a.m. We were the only ones on the deck doing the night watch. Corey’s parents and brother were sleeping down below in the boat’s cabin.

“You don’t have to stay up here. You can go back to sleep, you know. We won’t hit land until later this morning.”

“Nah, I’m awake. You shouldn’t be alone anyway,” I rested my head on Corey’s shoulder.

“Here.” He handed me the night vision binoculars, “can you tell me if a boat is coming towards us?”

I obeyed, seeing only the vast blackness of the water and sky. Land had disappeared a long time ago. “I can’t see anything.”

“That’s good. No light means no other boats for us to crash into.”

“Yeah. Ugh, my head is really starting to kill me,” I started to massage my temples and chocked back the hot vomit bubbling up in my throat. “I think I need some water.”

“You’re not seasick, are you?”

“I doubt it. We’ve been on this boat for 8 hours already and I’ve been fine,” I took a few deep breaths. “It’s so quiet. We’re the only ones out here. Just us and the sea. And the stars. I’ve never seen so many stars before.”

“That’s what happens when you leave, Los Angeles. Plenty of stars and no smog. I keep telling you, we should move down to San Diego.”

“Smog makes the best sunsets!” I protested, forgetting my headache momentarily.

“Yeah, I know. You’re a typical L.A. girl. Hey, see if you can find your first shooting star to make a wish on,” Corey reached for me with one arm as we sat behind the wheel in silence, inching closer to the island of Catalina, cuddled up into each other as we breathed in the salty air.

I saw a star fall but didn’t tell Corey. Instead, I wished for the safe sight of land but knew that wouldn’t come until daylight. We glided on into the darkness.

“Thanks for bringing me with you,” I whispered, feeling less alone in the empty space.