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Authors: Armando Lucas Correa
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my throat is scratched. I open my eyes.
I’m drifting aimlessly.
I see the reflection of my face in the surface of the water. I’m the girl on the ship.
I don’t know how I got here, but now I have to see how I get back, if possible. My pupils are dilated, my eyes full of salt water. I start moving my arms to keep myself afloat; the feeling comes back to my legs. I’m awake, and alive. I think I can try to swim.
I rub my eyes and see that the palms of my hands are shriveled. Who knows how long I’ve been in this cold water. Am I on a beach? No: I’m floating in the middle of a dark ocean.
“Mom!” Why am I shouting, if I’m all alone? “Mom!”
No point using up what little energy I have left. Swim as hard as you can! You’re strong. Swim to the shore, take advantage of every push from the wind, a wave, the current.
The light dazzles me. I have to keep my eyes closed. I’m thirsty, but I don’t want to drink salt water. Now I have even deeper wounds, and the salty water seeps into them. My whole body is burning.
I have to swim to infinity. Away from the sun. I can see the shore. Yes, I can make out the city. There are trees, white sand. No, it’s not a city. It’s an island.
I swim with short strokes. The wind is against me. The waves are against me. The sun is against me. The bright light blinds me.
To the shore! That’s your goal. You can do it. Of course I can. But I’m falling asleep.
No! Wake up and keep going. You can’t stop! I let myself be pulled along, tumbling over and over.
Dad is waiting for me. This is the island he reached the day he disappeared; he found shelter here. Maybe he fled in a plane, had an accident, and fell into the sea. Like me, he swam and swam until he reached land.
That’s why I’m stranded in the sea, because I know you’re there and are watching over me. I’ve come to be your Friday, Dad. That’s the only thing that keeps me afloat: thinking I’m going to find you. We’re going to be together like two Robinsons on that desert island, and you’ll protect me from cannibals, pirates, hurricanes.
After many years, after we’ve survived storms, earthquakes, erupting volcanoes, droughts, and attacks, we’ll be rescued at last and travel together to dry land, to the continent. Mom will be there waiting for us. Because she needs you, Dad, as much as I do.
Now I’m no longer in the water. My body is lying on hot sand that sticks to my burning skin. The sun confuses me. I open my eyes and see you. Is it you?
I knew you wouldn’t abandon me. That one day you’d come for me. That we would meet in a far-off land, on another continent, on an island lost in the middle of the ocean. That I would be your girl. Your only daughter, whom you would look after forever.
“Anna!” someone is shouting.
I get up quickly. It’s Mom. I’m wet with sweat, in my own bed, in my room. This is my island. I look for Dad on the bedside table, and there he is, looking at me with that half smile of his, next to the postcard of the ship I got from his aunt.
Mom hugs me, and I start to cry. I’m her little girl again, and I fall into her arms so that she can soothe me, stroke me. She starts humming. I can’t believe it: it’s a lullaby. I close my eyes and hear her soft voice whispering in my ear: “Bye lulu-baby, bye lulu-baby, bye lulu-baby, bye lullaby.”
I’m her baby once more. I hide myself in her, pull her to me, and hear her voice again. Yes, Mom used to sing me this lullaby when I was small and had nightmares. Don’t stop singing, Mom. The two of us are still here, waiting for the day when we receive the surprising news that Dad is alive on a far-off island, that he was rescued and is coming back to us.
“What shall we do for your birthday?” She has stopped singing, and I open my eyes.
I can’t remember us ever having a celebration that wasn’t just the two of us, with a chocolate cupcake and a pink candle. Most of my girlfriends from Fieldston live
I’m drifting aimlessly.
I see the reflection of my face in the surface of the water. I’m the girl on the ship.
I don’t know how I got here, but now I have to see how I get back, if possible. My pupils are dilated, my eyes full of salt water. I start moving my arms to keep myself afloat; the feeling comes back to my legs. I’m awake, and alive. I think I can try to swim.
I rub my eyes and see that the palms of my hands are shriveled. Who knows how long I’ve been in this cold water. Am I on a beach? No: I’m floating in the middle of a dark ocean.
“Mom!” Why am I shouting, if I’m all alone? “Mom!”
No point using up what little energy I have left. Swim as hard as you can! You’re strong. Swim to the shore, take advantage of every push from the wind, a wave, the current.
The light dazzles me. I have to keep my eyes closed. I’m thirsty, but I don’t want to drink salt water. Now I have even deeper wounds, and the salty water seeps into them. My whole body is burning.
I have to swim to infinity. Away from the sun. I can see the shore. Yes, I can make out the city. There are trees, white sand. No, it’s not a city. It’s an island.
I swim with short strokes. The wind is against me. The waves are against me. The sun is against me. The bright light blinds me.
To the shore! That’s your goal. You can do it. Of course I can. But I’m falling asleep.
No! Wake up and keep going. You can’t stop! I let myself be pulled along, tumbling over and over.
Dad is waiting for me. This is the island he reached the day he disappeared; he found shelter here. Maybe he fled in a plane, had an accident, and fell into the sea. Like me, he swam and swam until he reached land.
That’s why I’m stranded in the sea, because I know you’re there and are watching over me. I’ve come to be your Friday, Dad. That’s the only thing that keeps me afloat: thinking I’m going to find you. We’re going to be together like two Robinsons on that desert island, and you’ll protect me from cannibals, pirates, hurricanes.
After many years, after we’ve survived storms, earthquakes, erupting volcanoes, droughts, and attacks, we’ll be rescued at last and travel together to dry land, to the continent. Mom will be there waiting for us. Because she needs you, Dad, as much as I do.
Now I’m no longer in the water. My body is lying on hot sand that sticks to my burning skin. The sun confuses me. I open my eyes and see you. Is it you?
I knew you wouldn’t abandon me. That one day you’d come for me. That we would meet in a far-off land, on another continent, on an island lost in the middle of the ocean. That I would be your girl. Your only daughter, whom you would look after forever.
“Anna!” someone is shouting.
I get up quickly. It’s Mom. I’m wet with sweat, in my own bed, in my room. This is my island. I look for Dad on the bedside table, and there he is, looking at me with that half smile of his, next to the postcard of the ship I got from his aunt.
Mom hugs me, and I start to cry. I’m her little girl again, and I fall into her arms so that she can soothe me, stroke me. She starts humming. I can’t believe it: it’s a lullaby. I close my eyes and hear her soft voice whispering in my ear: “Bye lulu-baby, bye lulu-baby, bye lulu-baby, bye lullaby.”
I’m her baby once more. I hide myself in her, pull her to me, and hear her voice again. Yes, Mom used to sing me this lullaby when I was small and had nightmares. Don’t stop singing, Mom. The two of us are still here, waiting for the day when we receive the surprising news that Dad is alive on a far-off island, that he was rescued and is coming back to us.
“What shall we do for your birthday?” She has stopped singing, and I open my eyes.
I can’t remember us ever having a celebration that wasn’t just the two of us, with a chocolate cupcake and a pink candle. Most of my girlfriends from Fieldston live
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