Castle of Water: A Novel(34)

“You know…” And Barry trailed off, not quite certain how to tell her. “I saw something during the storm, when the wave washed me out to sea.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I saw ships. You know, like, boats. Three of them.”

Sophie sat bolt upright, just as he was afraid she might. “What? Are you kidding me?”

“They were a long way off, I could barely see them.”

“Why didn’t you use the flare gun?”

“I did. They were just too far away. They kept on going until they disappeared.”

“And you’re just telling me this now?”

“Yes, I’m telling you now because it just came up. I fired all the flares I had, but they didn’t stop. I suppose I could have gone out after them, but I came back here instead.”

Sophie lay back down on their shared palm mat, puffing out an incredulous burst of air through her lips. “Merde. I can’t believe it.”

“What? That they didn’t see me, or that I used up all the flares?”

“Non. I can’t believe you chose me over the boats. I would have gone after the boats in a heartbeat.”

She gave him a jovial elbow to the ribs, and Barry chuckled with relief. He’d been afraid she might not take the news well, but that didn’t appear to be the case.

“There’s something else, too,” he went on.

“What? Did a Montgolfier float by as well?”

“No, there were radio transmissions. You know those strange voices we hear on the radio once in a while?”

“Sure, but we don’t hear them very often.”

“I know. But when we do, I think it’s transmissions from the ships. When I was out there, there were tons of them. More than just the three I saw. And they were all talking to each other. They sounded close.”

“So what are you saying?”

“What I’m saying…” And Barry hesitated, to make sure there was actually some sense to what he was trying to explain. “Is that maybe there’s a sea lane out there. I mean, if we’re getting radio transmissions once in a while, and I saw three separate ships just while I was in the area, maybe there’s something like that. That’s what I’m saying.”

“But it could have just been a onetime thing.”

“Could be. But then again, it could be something else. I heard those voices over the radio the first week we got here—I remember listening to them in the hammock. And suddenly, I started hearing them again the week before the storm hit. It seems like they come in bursts, like there’s some kind of reasoning behind it.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a seasonal thing, maybe it has to do with weather patterns, maybe it’s an annual regatta race. Beats me.”

“So how far away do you think it was?”

“Forty or fifty miles from here, maybe. I’m not sure.”

“Miles? Why can’t you just learn the metric system, putain de merde?”

“Well, it’s not that far, either way.”

“You think fifty miles, or however many kilometers that is, over the open ocean isn’t that far? I don’t think I drifted more than five kilometers after the crash to get to this island, and that felt like far enough.”

“True, but you were drifting, not paddling. I think with both of us using oars, we could do it in a couple of days.”

“What about storms? What about currents we don’t expect? What if we get blown off course, or the raft starts to deflate in the middle of the ocean?”

“Look, I’m not saying we have to do it, I’m just saying it’s an option. Like you said, it’s been a year now, and it’s not like we have crowds of people coming to look for us.”

“I don’t know.” Sophie put her hands over her face, not so much in anguish as in exasperation—the exasperation of trying to answer a question to which there was no single correct response.

“Let’s not worry about it now. We have enough to deal with just trying to eat for the time being, and I’m not ready to make another trip out there just yet—my arms are still sore from the last one. And besides, I’ve been listening to the radio every night, and I haven’t heard any of those transmissions since I got back. So maybe it was just a fluke. The ships are probably all gone now.”

“Good. So let’s talk about something else.”

“That’s fine with me.”

They took a moment to listen to the waves and to the low chatter of tree frogs that they could never quite place. Sophie shifted onto her side, using the crook of her arm as a makeshift pillow. She tucked up her legs, and even though Barry wasn’t aware of it, she looked right at him in the darkness. “Next week is my birthday, you know.”

“Seriously?”

“Oui, oui.”

“You didn’t tell me that last year.”

“I didn’t even want to think about it at this time last year.”

“So the big three zero?”

“Yes. I’m turning thirty.”

“Well, we’ll have to celebrate.”

Sophie snorted. “Sure. Bake me a croustade aux pommes and I’ll blow out the candles.”