The Stranger in the Lifeboat(32)

And I suppose, looking back, Lambert did go crazy. He mumbled to himself. He became lethargic and semiconscious. Then, one hot morning, we woke to the sound of his voice screaming, “Get off my boat!”

He was standing over the Lord with a knife to his head.



“Get off my boat!” He yelled this repeatedly. The sun was not fully up, and the sky was fuzzy streaks of deep blue and orange. The waves were choppy, the raft unsteady. Drowsy and weak, I blinked several times before I realized what was happening. I saw Geri rise to her elbows and cry out, “Jason! What are you doing?”

Half of the canopy lay sliced on the raft floor. For some reason, Lambert had cut it into pieces.

“Get off … my BOAT!” he screeched again. His voice was as dry as the rest of him. He swung the knife back and forth in the Lord’s face. “You are … useless! Useless!”

The Lord did not seem frightened. He raised his palms in front of him, as if urging calm.

“Everyone here is useless!” Lambert railed. “None of you got me home!”

“Jason, please,” Geri said, getting to her knees, “you don’t need a knife. Come on.” I saw her eyeing little Alice protectively, moving to a space between Lambert and the girl. “We’re all worn out. But we’re gonna be OK.”

“Be OK, be OK,” Lambert mocked, singsongy. He spun to the Lord. “Do something, you IDIOT! Call for HELP!”

The Lord, too, glanced over at Alice to make sure she was safe, then looked back at Lambert.

“I am your help, Jason Lambert,” he said softly. “Come to me.”

“Come to you? Why? To do … nothing? Anyone can do nothing! Look! We ALL can do nothing! … You don’t exist! You are useless! You do nothing!”

His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t believe in you.”

“But I believe in you,” the Lord said.

Lambert’s eyes fluttered closed. He turned away, as if bored with the conversation. For a moment I thought he might topple over and pass out. Then, so fast I can barely remember it happening, he whipped himself backward, his arm outstretched, and slashed the knife across the Lord’s neck.

The Lord reached for his throat. His mouth opened. His eyes widened. As if in slow motion, he fell backward over the raft edge and dropped into the ocean.

“No!” Geri screamed. I literally stopped breathing. I couldn’t even blink. I stared like a mesmerized animal as Lambert yelled “Done!” and dropped the knife. Geri dove for it and pulled it underneath her, but as she did, Lambert thumped across the raft, grabbed little Alice, and heaved her over the side.

“Out we go!” he bellowed. “Out we go!”

I heard Alice splash into the sea, and my heart pounded so loudly it filled my eardrums. In an instant Geri jumped overboard to go after her, leaving Lambert alone with me. He rose to his unsteady feet and began lumbering my way.

“Bye-bye, Benji!” he screamed. I could not move. It was as if I were watching myself from behind. He rumbled toward me, his bloodshot eyes and beard-covered lips and yellowed teeth and purplish tongue—all of it so near I felt he was going to swallow me whole. He lunged for my head, and at the last instant, out of cowardice more than courage, I dropped as if the air had gushed out of me, and he stumbled over my body and belly-flopped into the sea.

My chest heaved. My head pounded. Suddenly I was alone in the raft. I spun left and right. I spotted Geri catching up with little Alice, who was flailing in the waves, the currents having carried her maybe ten yards away. I heard Lambert slapping the water on the other side, groaning incoherently. I could not see the Lord anywhere.

“Benji!” Lambert spit out. “Benji, help …”

It was the first time I’d ever heard him use that word. I saw his thick frame fighting the demon below the surface, the one pulling at his heels and cooing, The end has come, don’t fight it. I could have left him to that demon. Perhaps I should have, given how aloof he’d always been to my very existence. I saw him go under, then resurface. A few more seconds, and he would be gone for good. No more of his selfish anger. No more ridicule. And yet …

“Benji,” he moaned.

I jumped over the side.



I had not been in the water since the night the Galaxy sank, and it was jolting. My legs had grown so weak from lack of use that just churning them took extraordinary effort. This was probably why Lambert, withered by his dehydration, couldn’t navigate even the short distance back to the raft. I splashed my arms toward him. He saw me but did not reciprocate. His eyes were glazed and his lips were open, and I saw him gulp a mouthful of seawater and barely have the strength to spit it out. I grabbed his right arm and threw it around my neck. He was so heavy, I didn’t know if I could get us back to the raft. It was like towing a refrigerator through the chop.

“Come on,” I urged. “Kick … It’s right there.”

He mumbled something, his left arm flapping weakly on the surface, like a dying fin.

“Benji,” he moaned.

“I’m here,” I rasped.

“Was it … you?”

I stared at his face, just inches from mine. His eyes were pleading. My legs were giving out. I couldn’t hold him any longer. Suddenly, without explanation, he slipped his arm from mine and pushed me back.