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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1520814-A-Christmas-to-Remember
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1520814
A Husband's Christmas Surprise for his new wife.
A Christmas to Remember (© 2008)


I have never been as alone as I am, standing here. There’s an emptiness that I couldn’t have ever imagined. There are times in a man’s life when he has to sit and reflect on things that were and on things to come. This is one of those times for me. Just a few short days ago, I would have never imagined that I would be going through this but as they say, such is life.

The emptiness isn’t the worse part of all of this; simply because I knew that this day was coming. It was unavoidable with my profession. The worse part is how one person’s decisions, actions, and lifestyle affect other people. You never realize this fact until you’re faced with it firsthand.

I know that about now, all of you folks are wondering what the hell I’m talking about so let me start from the beginning.
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It all started a few days ago while I was at work. You see I’m a Marine Navigator assigned to a Derrick Barge in the Gulf of Mexico. Most people have no idea what a Marine Navigator does so I’ll take a minute or two to explain it. We work on construction projects in all bodies of water whether inland or offshore. On the vessel that I’m usually assigned to, we are responsible for the assembly and disassembly of oil and natural gas platforms in the Gulf of Mexico.

In a nutshell, I am charged with the responsibility of advanced navigation. Because we are all assigned to a derrick barge, we have a tugboat that pulls us around to the various locations for the project. At the beginning of the projects, I would give the latitude and longitude for the project to the tugboat Captain and he will then tow us to within a nautical mile or so of location. Once there, I use my navigational systems to fine tune the position to within inches.

The disassembly of the structures is more simple for me because of the nature of my profession. Once we are on location we can see the structure itself. With the use of an identifier placard, we can confirm that it’s the correct one that we are supposed to disassemble.

On assembly or installation projects, my job becomes more complicated in the sense that I have no margin for error. It isn’t like there is a landmark showing us where we are going to have to assemble the 3000-ton structure’s three or more pieces. Using Global Positioning Satellites, I aid in the placement of the barge’s eight anchors then move the barge over the required coordinates. Once we complete the “Surface Navigation”, I step into my second role of “Subsea Navigation”.

This is when I set up and use the Bottom Scanning Sonar. The Bottom Scanning Sonar is a device that I connect to a three-legged stand that’s around seven feet tall and sits on the seafloor. Attached to the top of the sonar and secured to the top of the stand is a Kevlar-lined data cable that stays on board the barge itself. Once sitting on the seafloor the Bottom Scanning Sonar takes pictures. If any of you have ever watched your local weather, I’m sure you’re familiar with the Doppler radar. Well this is similar in nature in the Bottom Scanning Sonar sees all with the use of sound waves. This allows me to find the wellhead on which we place the Jacket; or base portion of the structure. Using a simple triangulation formula, I fine tune the barge’s position to accurately place the structure. This was a typical day for me at the beginning of installation projects and this one was no different.

Once the barge was in position it was time for the divers to do their work. Normally at this point, I would process data from the Bottom Scanning Sonar but here is where my day was different from most. I am scheduled to go home today and excited about it.

I had been in the Gulf of Mexico since mid-October and here it was late December. It was more than time to hit the beach. Although I'm not scheduled to be going back to land until after New Year’s, this was something of a special occasion. My wife’s birthday was in a few days and I talked a co-worker into finishing my project for me so I can surprise her. My wife and I were married nearly a year ago. Although she said she accepted that I wasn’t going to be there for her birthday, I know she’s disappointed because I extended my hitch.

As far as the crew change, all was going well. Soon the divers blowing bubbles 250 feet below the surface thus confirming that I had accurately positioned the starboard side of the barge over the wellhead. I then went to my cabin and began packing up my gear. After this was all said and done, I eagerly waited in the control tower of the barge for the radio transmission from the crew boat, Miss Sara Elizabeth.

I have to say that at this point my excitement was nearly too much to handle. This is what we call “Channel Fever”. In essence the closer I was to getting back to land, the closer I wanted to be.

Once the Miss Sara Elizabeth radioed that she was 20 minutes away from the barge, I knew that my plan was coming together beautifully. As the diver began decompressing in the chamber we put the diving operations on hold. Four of my shipmates and I began loading onto the crew boat. During the transfer from the barge to the crew boat, we attach a “basket” to one of the cranes on the barge. This basket is made of ropes with an iron ring as a base. Once the crane hoists the top of the basket it resembles a bright orange highway cone. We then load the personal luggage into the steel ring base. After we’ve done this, the real fun begins. The “riders” would don their personal flotation devices and climb aboard. And yes this is the exciting part of the ride. The passengers would step onto the outer portion of the ring base of the basket and hold on for the ride. As the crane lifts us up into the air we are now dangling from a 7/8” wire rope holding onto the ropes of the basket. Looking down as the crane lifts us, I can see that we are riding about two to three stories over the deck. The best part is when the crane operator swings the crane over the side and all we see are the waters of the Gulf of Mexico stories below us. Not long after we are in position, the crew boat begins to move under the basket. The crane operator then lowers us onto the rear deck of the chariot that will deliver us back to civilization.

I have to admit that this was an exciting part of the job. As silly as some people may think I am, I simply love riding the basket.

The crew boat ride was twelve hours and this would have given me just the right amount of time to drive from the dock to a motel in town. I understood that nothing in the offshore community worked on as tight a schedule as some would have you believe. I planned to be back in town a day early so I could do a little shopping. This would also serve as a “buffer”. I knew that if I didn’t plan to get home early, I might get home too late for what I had planned.

You see, I had a surprised birthday party scheduled at my brother’s house. I could picture my wife’s face as she arrives at my brother’s house for supper then all of our family and closest friends jump out and yell “Surprise!!!!”. The plan is simple enough, she first gets the “Surprise” from our friends and family. Then, I show up shortly after the initial shock wore off and give her another one. The best part about all of this is that her birthday is Christmas Day. So we would have the dual excitement of spending her birthday and our first Christmas together. Since we met, I was always on a job through the holidays. I have to say how lucky I am that she is encouraging when it comes to my job. Especially with the time that it keeps me away from her.

Once on the crew boat we stowed our luggage. My shipmates and I then went to the living quarters below deck and laid claim to bunks. Once I signed in and retrieved my linens, I set up my rack and laid down for a nap. It was important that I got some sleep for the drive home.

With the excitement of the upcoming party, I couldn’t sleep but instead lay in bed picturing how surprised my wife’s face would be as she watched me walking through the front door with three dozen roses. It was important that I had three dozen because I wanted to give her one rose for every year that she has graced this earth with her mystical beauty and unmatched personality.

I can still remember the day that we met. I was driving home from a short three week job. Just outside town, I decided to stop at a neighborhood supermarket for a few groceries. Passing by the bakery, I couldn’t help but smell the sweet smells of the cakes, cookies, and breads. I had been to this particular store in the past but never to the bakery. But I’m glad I picked this store on that day because it was a crowning moment in my life. She was at the display case and offered me a sample of Focaccia bread.

It was the weirdest thing I had ever experienced. She was standing there with her brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail looking all beautiful. I just knew that I had to find out who she was. It was almost as if my life started over. After a few more scheduled visits to the bakery, I worked up enough nerve to ask her on a date. Fourteen months later she accepted my marriage proposal. We married a year later and I’ve never been happier.

Somewhere in the mix of all my reminiscing, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew my shipmates and I were all awoken by a loud banging noise. Accompanying the noise was a shudder that nearly knocked me out of my rack and onto the floor of the living quarters on the Miss Sara Elizabeth. I’ll be honest; it was one hell of a way to be woken up from of a deep Dramamine-induced sleep.

In the dim light of the below deck room, I immediately noticed there was a layer of water on the floor and it was building in its intensity. A broken water pipe from the head might have caused the water; bathroom to you land lovers out there, or it was one of my biggest fears realized.

It didn’t take but a nanosecond for me to add up recent events to come to the realization that we were taking on water. At the expense of making me look like a fool if I were simply being paranoid, I shot out of my rack and yelled at everyone to wake up.

I could see the various small lights, come on one at a time. As we struggled to fight off the sandman, I noticed that one of the rookie deckhands nearest the stairway was stumbling towards the main light switch for the room. I knew that it wouldn’t be in our best interest for him to carry out his obvious plans. I reached for one of my boots and flung it at him. “Don’t do that!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

In an obvious panic he turned to me with an expression on his face that I’ll never forget for the rest of my days. He wasn’t as pissed off at me as I thought he would have been. His eyes were wide and blank. It reminded me of an expression you would see on the face of a man in shock. I can admit that if I were on my first job in the Gulf of Mexico and this happened to me, I would most probably have the same look of shock and surprise as he did.

As we started to pass him on our way to the stairway, several of us explained to him that if he had turned the lights on, it could have electrocuted all of us. Once we were all on the deck level, we started to fight over the available life vests. It surprised me how people react under situations like this one. We train for situations like this but until you find yourself in the position, you never know how you’re going to react. Most instructors will tell you that you will automatically revert to your training. And as an instructor in my previous profession, I believe that this comment is a wealth of knowledge. The problem I always found with the various maritime training courses is that they never train you in “true to life” or “reality based” situations. First, the maritime training courses are mostly classroom. When we did the practical exercises, the instructors themselves didn’t take the time to stress the seriousness of the situations for which we were training. The instructors didn’t stress seriousness down to the participants.

As I found a life vest, I suddenly realized the rookie deckhand wasn’t among us. Going back down below deck, I saw that he was looking frantically under the now waist-deep water. After I asked him what it was that he was doing, he responded frantically. He insisted that he had to find his luggage. With the room still dimly lit, I could see that he was oblivious of the seriousness of what he was doing.

Not even thinking about anything but the obvious, I went into the lower level and had to physically drag Red out of there. When we were back at the stairway the water was chest deep and the Miss Sara Elizabeth was listing heavily port bow. The middle level was already taking water from both the living quarters and the bow. Fighting our way upwards along the wet slippery floor, Red and I both made our way towards the muster station on the aft portion of the loaded back deck. I have to admit here as well that with the exaggerate list of the boat it was a literal uphill battle to reach the muster station. It wouldn’t have been so bad but with both my jeans and denim work shirt already soaked, and the waves breaking and crashing over the vessel; I felt like I was carrying an added fifty pounds. If any of you ever tried to chase someone that pushed you into a swimming pool while fully clothed, then I’m certain you can relate.

Luckily for the both of us, one of the other passengers had collected a bulk load of personal flotation devices and had them piled on the wooden planks of the deck. Red donned one as we began looking for the captain of the vessel. At this point it was more than obvious to everyone present, the Miss Sara Elizabeth was going to be taking a permanent dive to the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico.

It didn’t take long for us to realize the captain was nowhere near the muster station. Once we brought up the issue of the captain, the vessel’s first mate told us the captain was already dead. After hearing that, there were a few of my shipmates that didn’t wait for the word to jump. They had already abandoned ship. I knew that going to look for the captain’s body was the right thing to do. But at the same time, I also knew that I had to get overboard before the Miss Sara Elizabeth took me with her to the bottom. I felt as though I was between a rock and a hard place. If I went to look for the Captain’s body, I would die. On the other hand if I jumped ship, then I would never know if the captain was in fact dead. It was hard to believe that a man I had spoken to just a few hours before was now dead. Granted we had no idea what was going on with the ship other than we had been woken up facing the situation that we now face.

At this point, everyone except the first mate and I decided that it was time to abandon ship. The remaining crew jumped into the cold night waters, while he and I argued over the fact that I wanted to go back to the wheelhouse to look for the captain. This “discussion” of sorts intensified to the point that he had me by the shirt pulling me towards the starboard side of the deck. It seemed like we were there forever before I simply broke his grip from my shirt and introduced him to my right hook. The blow sent him over the starboard rail and into the water with the other passengers.

Once I sent him over the rail, I turned towards the bow to go look for the captain. As I stepped towards the superstructure, a series of waves hit port side and rocked me from side to side like a pinball fighting for survival. Before the series of waves subsided, I found myself floating the dark cold waters.

Had I not already been cold and wet from the waves that attacked me, I’m certain the sudden temperature change would have been a definite eye-opener. Once I regained my composure from the initial shock of my predicament, I looked back towards the sinking crew boat. This is a Christmas that I’d never forget.

After what I had just been through, it wasn’t a surprised when all I saw was the superstructure of the vessel. I knew that not only was she going down but she was going down fast. At this point my only chance for survival was to swim away from her as fast as I could.

I instantly swam towards my yelling shipmates. Thinking back, I’m glad that they were yelling for me, because otherwise I’m certain that I wouldn’t have been able to find them in the dark. I swam as fast as I could from the quickly sinking vessel. I knew that if I were anywhere near her when she finally went under, the suction would bring me down with her. Regardless of the water depth, this wouldn’t exactly be a healthy situation for me to try to overcome. When I was close to my shipmates, they had already climbed onto a life raft that had automatically deployed from the Miss Sara Elizabeth. How poetic I thought, that although she was going under, she took the time to spit out a temporary replacement for her passengers and crew. It was as though she were giving us a final Christmas gift before she finally died. When I was twenty or so feet away from the raft, my entire body was numb. I couldn’t feel a thing. Every muscle in my entire body was burning. It took everything that I had left to reach the safety of the raft.

When I was at the small inflated step that lead up to the raft itself, I couldn’t even raise my arms much less my legs. My buddies had to pull me up and into the raft because I just didn’t have anything left to give. Swimming is one thing but try to do it with steel toe boots while wearing denim jeans and a denim shirt. It’s no walk in the park I can promise you.

After I was in the raft, I was thrust face first into the bottom and nearly drowned in the foot or so of water that had already collected there. Looking around, I accounted for everyone except for the Captain and the First Mate. I didn’t surprise me to see the Captain wasn’t here but where the first mate had gone made me even more curious.

Once we had all recovered from the initial shock of the circumstances that we had thrust on us, it was time for someone to take charge. Red was freaking out on a major level and it took more than I thought was necessary to calm him down. Everyone else was silent. Under these types of situations, it would be the ship’s Captain, First Mate, or Chief Engineer that would take charge of the life raft. Because the Captain was supposedly dead, the First Mate was missing in action, and there wasn’t a Chief Engineer, there isn’t a set precedents that I knew of to set someone in command.

I wasn’t a senior member among the crew present but I knew that if someone didn’t start getting the ball rolling soon, there was a limited chance that anyone of us would survive. In situations such as this there were certain things that needed to happen in a predetermined order. These were all made clear to us in the Marine Survival Training Course that we had to complete before allowed to work in the Gulf of Mexico. As I looked around at everyone present, I had the distinct impression that if I didn’t get the things started, it would stay dormant and we could all die. While I looked around the raft for the survival kit that I knew had to be here per United States Coast Guard Regulations, it seemed like everyone was in a mummified trance-like state. They all had blank looks on their faces except for Red.

Red ‘s fear was obvious, but at the same time he had a look of peace over his face. It was surreal to see. Once I located the survival kit, I immediately handed out the Dramamine for everyone to take. They say that it’s supposed to keep mariners from getting seasick while riding the rough seas in such a small craft. I believed that it merely put off the inevitable. If it was going to happen than it was just going to happen. No two ways about it.

After inventorying the water and what limited amount of dehydrated food there was, I came to the realization that survival at this point was going to be harder than we had all thought. The food on board was old and mostly out-of-date. What little water we had was going to prove to be important.

Everyone agreed that we needed to start taking care of ourselves because there wasn’t anyone else that could. After handing out the Dramamine, I had a few of the others start bailing the water out of the raft. The seas weren’t as calm as I would have liked them to be. I guessed the swells were coming at us at six to eight feet high and the winds were blowing around fifteen to twenty knots. Swells that high weren’t as big of a concern for me; it was the waves that mostly accompanied these swells.

Just to give you an idea of the situation, the swells are like “underwater waves” caused by currents. The wind and waves were more of a concern for us in this small rescue craft. The waves rode on top of the swells. The more wind we had the taller the waves. Because the waves rode on top of the swells, the raft lifts 10-12 feet higher and then dropped that distance. This in itself wouldn’t be that big of a deal. It’s the repetitive and rhythmic motions. Ten to twelve feet up then ten to twelve feet down, repeatedly.

Each “up and down” cycle lasted about 5 seconds or so. That was the ride. Up… down… up… down… up… down… Riding these types of seas was bad enough in a motorized craft but in an unpowered inflatable raft; it was a different story altogether. In powered crafts the pilot can steer the bow into or with the seas and make for a better ride. In an unpowered craft, you’re at the mercy of Poseidon himself. We felt like we were riding in a seventeenth century sloop without sails. High and dead in the water feeling every single ripple of the cold dark waters known as the American Mediterranean Sea.

By this point in our little adventure, most of the crew had pretty much accepted our situation with the obvious exception of Red. He was still very much in shock. After we had rationed the available supplies, I came across a battery-powered marine radio. I instantly felt as though everything would be ok. Because it was only a portable radio, we had limited battery power and limited range. Depending on the cloud cover we would be able to send out a distress message over an area roughly one maybe two nautical miles.

Switching positions with Red, I moved closer to the opening of the canopied raft that was to be our home for an undetermined amount of time. Although not the most comfortable craft that I’ve ever been on, it would most certainly have to do. The raft was a similar design to the personnel basket in that it appeared as though it was an inverted snow cone or even a floating teepee bobbing on the top of the water. Unlike the personnel basket, the raft was obviously not made of rope but instead made up of a rubberized material. The raft automatically inflates after the Miss Sara Elizabeth ejected it on her way to meet with Davy Jones. Its circular base was nearly 12 feet across and its canopy rose about 6 feet or so at its center. The interior covered by sheeting that helps to keep out sunlight and unwanted water from breaking waves and/ or rain. For air circulation the raft has two openings fore and aft, or port and starboard depending on how you choose to look at it. Regardless they were directly across from each other.

After I repositioned near one of the only two openings, I tried to find the moon. To my dismay the “old blue cheese” wasn’t anywhere in sight. I was hoping to determine roughly what time it was but no luck there.

After trying the radio several times, I elected to turn it off to save whatever battery power was available to us. While at the raft opening, I took the opportunity to deploy a flare. I reached for the launcher which was nothing more than a plastic handgun looking device. It was a single shot deployment system. Looking in the waterproof case that stored the device, I noticed there were only four flares all the aerial design. This wasn’t a good thing at all. For starters we had no idea how far-off the coast we were or whether anyone was looking for us. Under model conditions, the captain or the person piloting the Miss Sara Elizabeth would have sent out a “May Day” distress transmission before we went down. Had this happened the Coast Guard would head our way. But no one on the raft knew if that happened or not. We knew that we might be rescued in the morning or in a few days. It was a dark unknown situation we found ourselves in.

Loading one of the 12 gauge flare rounds into the launcher, I prepared to shoot it into the air. I had no idea how long these have been in the raft or whether they would shoot, ignite once in the air, or even if the small parachute would deploy. I knew there were a multitude of questions, “ifs”, and “maybes”. But I had to try. Aiming at an acceptable angle I slowly puller the trigger and the projectile went soaring into the air.

As it rose a few hundred feet into the air and ignited, I had a good feeling that everything was going to be okay. It felt like nothing I have ever felt before. Every nerve in my body jumped in celebration as I watched the soft red orange glow of the rescue flare. As good as it made me feel; I had no idea that my internal celebration was going to be so short-lived. Not long after I watched the red-orange glow light up the dark skies, it simply volleyed over and fell into the water a few hundred feet away. It was a major disappointment. That’s not the way it’s designed to work and we knew it. Looking at the three remaining projectiles in the case I reached for the second one and silently prayed that it worked out better than the first.

After loading the launcher, I pointed it into the air and pulled the trigger hoping the results would be better than before. After firing the launcher, I could barely see the projectile leaping into the sky. A split second after I saw it climbing, it simply disappeared into the darkness. No glow or anything. I must have used every profanity in the book plus developed a few other colorful terms with this disappointment.

Because of the disappointing results from the first two flares, I had to decides whether I would use the remaining two. The first one, although short-lived, may have attracted someone’s attention but again there was no way of knowing that for certain. Remembering a story I read about Abraham Lincoln helped me in my decision to hold onto the remaining two.

It was a simple enough story but it has stayed with me all these years. The story goes that as a small boy Abe went on a hunt with his father. Abe had a dream one night that he had thrown all the wood into the fire at once and of course the fire burned-out before daylight. Because they didn’t have a fire to keep warm, he and his father nearly froze to death. The next morning Abe told his father about his dream. Over a breakfast of jerky and water, his father asked him if he learned anything from the dream. Abe simply replied that he learned not to use all the wood at once, but instead to ration it out so it lasts.

I’m not sure if it’s fact or fiction but the story reminded me that it’s always best to ration opposed to being gluttonous with my supplies. I elected to keep the remaining two flares until later in the “voyage”. Although not many of my fellow wanderers agreed with my logic and a heated debate resulted, I stood fast and defended the flares. The conversation nearly became physical with a few of the others but I knew in my heart and soul that I was making the right decision.

One good thing that happened next was that it was obvious the sea conditions were settling. The swells had lowered and the winds were barely blowing. The lowered winds were a blessing in disguise because the waves lowered as well. It was a pleasant pitch and roll opposed to a Texas Cyclone style ride. We were fortunate that no one became seasick in the horrible conditions that we had been through so far. The bad thing about one person becoming seasick and throwing their guts up so to speak is that it’s a chain reaction from there. It wouldn’t have been a pleasant ride to say the least.

I'm not certain how long we had been riding the smaller swells before we heard what sounded like someone yelling at us from outside the raft. At first I wasn’t certain that I was in fact hearing anything but it was soon obvious that I wasn’t the only one hearing it. Looking out of the raft, I could barely see something or someone floating on the water. At this point it could prove to be nothing more than a mirage. Against my better judgment I knew that I had to go and help. I jumped into the cold water and swam to our yelling shipmate. When I reached him I saw that it was the first mate of the Miss Sara Elizabeth. I hadn’t seen him since I punched him in the jaw sending him overboard.

We both struggled in the water to get back to the raft. Once inside and after he finally caught his breath; he was talking like a madman. Telling us things that we already knew like we had to get out of here. We had to get onshore. We had to get out of the water. Things of that sort. It was like he was on the movie Jaws. Of course Red was no help in calming him down. For the first time in hours he “came alive” and jumped on the bandwagon, freaking out on a major level. The First Mate wasn’t making much sense at all but he was making friends with the other members of the makeshift crew. He convinced a few of the members to exit the raft. Once outside they held onto the raft and began paddling their feet trying to push us away from wherever we were. It didn’t make much sense to me. Nothing he said made sense until I heard the word that sent chills up and down my spine.

Cesium

Once I heard that, I knew that we were in real danger. More so than we were before. I knew from personal experience that it’s used in the oil industry during drilling operations but had no idea it’s used on offshore structures because it was so volatile when mixed with water. The First Mate explained that with all the safety measures taken during transit, it’s stored in a waterproof container within a second waterproof container. But who can say how damaged either one of those containers may be. Chances are we weren’t anywhere near the shipwreck, not with the way the winds and seas were when it all happened; but at the same time I didn’t want to take a chance. We took shifts trying to paddle the raft onward. All except for Red of course, he simply refused to get in the water.

It wasn’t long before we saw the sun in the eastern sky sneaking a peek at the waters ahead of us. Now we had an idea what direction to head. It was a tense night but at least it was daytime now. Although we were in more danger in the daytime than we were at night, at least we were more visible now to rescuers. Dehydration was going to prove to be an obstacle that could be our undoing.

As I was finishing one of my many “paddling shifts”, I started to climb back into the raft. That’s when it happened. The percussion caused by the blast lifted me up and threw me into the raft and out of the other side. I landed back in the water and struggled to get back to the surface. I never heard the blast but I could feel it in every ounce of my being. I worked my way back to the raft and climbed inside. Red was in a fetal position on the bottom of the raft crying like a baby.

It was no use even trying to talk to him… it never was. I crawled to the other side in hopes of finding someone else alive but I was unsuccessful. They were all exposed when the water reached the Cesium from the obviously compromised waterproof containers. I can only imagine the interior damage their bodies suffered at the hands of the underwater shock wave. There was a larger swell in the seas now than there was before the blast. I can only imagine the explosion caused it. As the sun continued to light up the sky over the Gulf of Mexico, I saw four motionless bodies floating face down in the water. There was no doubt in my mind that they were dead. I lay down in the raft to try to gather my thoughts and fight off the dizziness I was experiencing. The blast did a job on me. I can only imagine how they felt when the subsea shock wave them. The strange part is that although I was here I couldn’t tell you what it looked like. I can only imagine it was a comparison to the Baker Nuclear Test in 1946.

I didn’t have the strength to even go and recover their bodies. It took every ounce of strength I had left to breath. I’m not even certain how close or how far we were from the blast. All I know is that it hurt like hell. I sat back thinking that I was never going to be able to surprise Taylor for her “Christmas Birthday”.

I made a promise long ago not to break her heart and in many ways I knew that my being away from her on our first Christmas as a married couple had to be hard on her. I know she was heartbroken when I told her I wasn’t going to be there. It was her birthday. This was going to be our first Christmas together. I had to be there at all cost. It wasn’t long before I finally fell asleep from pure exhaustion. The next thing I knew, I felt the straps of a spinal board. Coast Guard Rescue Swimmers then hoisted me into the rescue basket.

And that’s the last thing I remembered until I woke up in the hospital. I was lying on a bed with tubes invading parts of my body they should never invade. I had a needle feeding me vitamins and pain killers by means of an IV. There were even sensors on my head and chest. None of this even made sense to me because I felt fine. I was 150%. There was nothing wrong with me. I was still fully clothed so everything had to be okay.

I lifted myself out of the bed and unplugged the IV needle from my arm as well as the various sensors. I had to make it to the party. At this point I had no idea what day it was. For all I knew the party was over. Still a little dazed and confused, I worked my way out of the bed and walked towards what should have been a wall. But, they were curtains. I went through one of the curtains and found myself in what appeared to be a control center of sorts. Then it hit me, I was in an emergency room. But I felt fine; I no longer felt hurt. As I started walking more and more, I felt better. I guess I just had to get the blood flowing.

Walking out of the hospital was easier than I thought it would have been. I simply merged into an open elevator and walked out of the automated front doors with several other people. I felt exhilarated when I looked around at my surroundings. It would appear as though the Greek goddess Tyche was smiling on me today. As luck would have it, I was only a few blocks from my house. Now at this point I had no idea how long I was unconscious and had to get home to Taylor. I ran down the street like I was a madman on fire. I felt a sense of effervescence that I’ve never felt before. I felt free spirited beyond description.

In midstride I stopped on a dime and looked into the newspaper box at a nearby corner. That’s when I realized that I still had a chance to see Taylor and give her a Christmas that she’ll never forget. It was December 25th. I looked up at the clock at the bank cross the street and saw that everything was falling into place. As rough a start as this journey was, I was going to make it for the surprise party.

I took off like the wind and didn’t stop until I made my destination. As surprising as it was, I didn’t break a sweat or even get out of breath during the 3 or so mile run.

It wasn’t until I first arrived at my brother’s house, that I realized that I had forgotten the roses. I felt horrible about the flowers but decided that I would rob my sister-in-law’s greenhouse. I figured that 36 amaryllis wasn’t exactly roses. But they were beautiful and most importantly readily available.

As I began sneaking into the backyard for my commando raid on the flower house, as I always called it; the music inside the house stopped playing suddenly. Thinking they caught me red-handed, I faced the patio doors fully expecting to be facing 30 of my friends and family. Instead, I noticed that all the guests were gathering in the front foyer.

As I made my way to the small gathering, I saw that Taylor was crying in my brother’s arms. Standing in front of them were two rather tall chaps in dress Coast Guard Uniforms with their medals hanging neatly and shiny. All I could hear was Taylor crying asking how and why. The Coast Guard Chaplin was talking about a shipwreck… subsequent explosion… and no survivors.

I didn’t understand what was going on. I was right here. “I'm not dead. I'm right here.” I screamed but nobody seemed to hear me. I walked towards Taylor and reached for her but I couldn’t touch her. My hands seemed to be passing through her. What was going on?

“Taylor baby… I’m right here… Baby I'm not dead… I’m here… I made it” but she didn’t seem to know I was there.

That’s when it occurred to me that I hadn’t survived the explosion. I’ve never experienced anything like the emptiness I felt just then. That’s when I realize that I would never again feel the warmth of my one truelove. I would never again feel her breath on my neck in the early morning. I would never again see the glow on her face when I return from the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. Never again would I hear her heart beating while we snuggled after making love. Never again would I hear the sound of her voice on the phone after finally being able to call home. Never again would I hear her whisper my name in the middle of the night when she has a bad dream.

So here I stand next to my soul mate knowing that I’ll forever be empty.

© Copyright 2009 AJ Garrett (aj_garrett at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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