Safe Passage

As he lay in bed, his mind kept drifting in and out. Lingering on one specific memory. Until his eyes finally shut and he was again on the boat.

Just sitting there. Looking out the row of windows in front of him, into the ocean. Watching the waves churn against one another - a deep lush blue contrasted against the clear, sunny sky above. Rays of light dove into the sea, illuminating it. Causing the surface to twinkle like a thousand disco balls. Occasionally a flock of birds would fly by - too far to tell what kind, most likely some sort of gull, off to find food or dry land. Never tired stopping to rest on the waves. As he sat there, marveling at the blue abyss that surrounded them he had his back pressed against the wall, trying to straighten out all the kinks that had formed during the early morning drive. Slowly but surely they were working themselves out. Vertebrae by vertebrae.

He wanted so dearly to close his eyes and fall asleep. Yet his body wouldn't allow it. Now that there was a moment to relax and catch up on some much needed rest, of course he couldn't. So he just soaked it all in. As a child he had grown up around the water. Raised on boats, amongst the waves. So even through his exhaustion he enjoyed where he was and appreciated every piece of it. The barely noticeable vibrations of the engine reverberating out through the floor. It's droning - locked away deep within the hull. The smell of the oil in the exhaust fumes. Rocking with the ocean, up and down slowly, as if it was trying to put the massive ship to sleep. Even the dried salt in the corner of the windows. It was all lovely.

All around him, other passengers provided the perfect entertainment. Straight ahead a family was handing out lunch. Bread with meat and cheese. The littlest son complaining that the loaf given to him wasn't the correct one, only to be persuaded by his mother that it indeed was. A few seats up from them a family of tourists sat, map spread out across their legs, plotting where next to go. To his left a young man read the local paper, sipping on a coffee that had come out of the onboard latte machine.

And to his right, most important of all, she sat, slightly slumped in her seat, dead asleep. It had been a long day for them both, but she was the first one to take advantage of the downtime, finding a comfortable spot and nuzzling up. So fast in fact, that her passport was still on the table in front of her, half beneath her hand. Gently sliding it out, he placed it in his pocket, where no one passing by could grab it. As he was moving his hand back to his lap, she reach out and took his hand in hers and brought it to her own lap, before quickly falling back asleep. The deeper and deeper she drifted, the looser and looser her grip around his hand became. Occasionally he looked over - her eyelids dancing back and forth, lost somewhere within a dream. Nothing seemed to be able to wake her. The crying baby behind them. The few large waves that caused the boat to rise and fall abruptly. Until his hand slipped from hers. The moment it broke free from her grasp, her eyes opened and she looked over at him. Without even realizing what had happened, he brought his hand back up and off she drifted again. The next time it happened, it was to show their tickets to a passing steward. Again, she woke quickly, the sleep still prevalent in her eyes, but returned to her peaceful state once his hand had become entangled within hers. Even the slightest move caused her eyes to open and her glance at him.

Later that day, he joked around with her about it. But it was simple she explained - it was when she felt safe, when she was able to drop her guard and fall asleep. At her most comfortable. A connection he wasn't sure if he'd be able to share with anyone else. So small yet so important. A memory he would hold onto forever.

Even if at the moment, as he lay in bed, his hand was empty.






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