I had a feeling I wouldn't die today. I've got a sixth sense! Look at that--I got out of that sinking coffin.
I quickly tie the cord of my life vest to Eva's cord. Alive or dead, we're staying together.
I look at her. This vest is built to keep a person's head above water. So is she really dead? If she is, that means she's the third dead person I've seen in the last few hours.
People have started dying like flies around me. Not great for my morale.
I can hear every beat of my heart pounding in my ears, and only now do I realize how exhausted I am. Thank God I don't have to swim anymore. It's a beautiful thing that some smart bastard invented life vests, because I don't know how I'd manage right now without them.
Just the thought that under my feet there are hundreds, maybe thousands of meters of water... that thought can drive anyone insane, coward or brave. There's an abyss under me. Only the vest can save me now.
"Don't you dare give up, Tiberiu!" I give myself a pathetic little pep talk. "The hardest part is over."
But I'm not stupid. I realize clearly we're two specks of dust floating on an ocean. The human mind can't comprehend what "water as far as the eye can see" really means.
It's insane!
The sea is nice only when you're looking at it from the shore. We're used to feeling something solid under our feet. If we don't have anything, we lose control, we lose our minds.
I can't even think about anything specific anymore. All I want is to feel ground under my feet. I want to lean on something, anything. Anything except a shark fin.
Lord, if you help me make it out of this, I promise... I swear I'll never get on a plane again as long as I live! I'll go home by ship or by train. I want home! Straight home!
And I'll never be a complainer again! I'll love the cold! I'll love snow! I'll love colds, coughs, sniffles, and rheumatism! I'll become a monk and dedicate my life to You, Lord!
Help me, don't leave me! Please!
"Wasser," Eva groans and opens her eyes wide. "Wasser..."
She's alive. It's a miracle!
Of course! It's a sign from God.
"Water? You're right--water as far as you can see. But we're alive, Eva!" I shout at her. "Aren't you happy you're alive?"
A wave suddenly rolls over us and I swallow a mouthful of "wasser." Salty as hell!
I have to keep my mouth shut. For a man, I sure talk too much. Okay, I won't talk anymore, but I'll think. Hard.
Let's recap:
One: I'm alive. We're alive.
Two: The water is warm. We're not going to freeze to death.
Three: We don't even have to swim. The vests keep us afloat just fine.
Well that's wonderful! All we have to do is lie back and wait for the rescue teams. If I go by the sun, it's around four in the afternoon now, and I'm sure someone already raised the alarm.
I don't know how well-run Jean-Louis's travel agency is, but it's clear that somewhere in this world a control tower is missing a plane.
Someone is probably wondering right now where we are. Someone is worried sick trying to reach Jean-Louis on the radio. The next logical step is... searching, right?
I'm sure the Malaysian authorities have rules for situations like this too. Protocols. Something.
"I think we'll be picked up in two hours, tops," I tell Eva. "I'm convinced the Malaysians dropped everything and already started looking for us with planes and helicopters. Any second now someone's going to show up and drop an inflatable raft right on our heads. Maybe even a few bottles of Coca-Cola... maybe a cold beer."
Eva pretends she can't hear me. Eyes closed, silent. She's pessimistic. She doesn't believe me. God, pessimists piss me off.
"You'll see," I promise her.
Sunset comes. The rescue teams don't. I'm starting to lose my patience.
I've got a vague feeling of unease. The darkness rolling over the water scares me. On top of that, all this up-and-down motion is bringing my spicy ham-and-onion sandwich back up. I'm nauseous. Shouldn't have eaten it!
I rub my palms together and realize the skin on my fingers is wrinkled. Like I've been washing laundry for days. Like I've been pickling my hands. What am I going to do if the skin starts peeling off my fingers?
I'm so tired I nod off for a few seconds. A wave smacks me in the face. Three seconds of sleep and then... splash! Then sleep again. Then splash again!
Even though it's dark, I start seeing all kinds of underwater monsters moving around us. No, it's not an illusion. I'm convinced that somewhere right below us there are huge creatures getting ready to take a bite.
Maybe right now two sharks as big as two trucks are down there in the dark, ten meters below, staring carefully at our legs.
I can hear one of them clearly telling the other:
"You take the skinny one on the right and I'll take the guy on the left."
"Aren't you a little too smart?" the other one asks, annoyed, grinning and showing his three hundred and fifty diamond-hard teeth. "I propose you take the skinny one and I'll dig into the other one. He's not that fat either, so we're even."
"Go fuck your mother!" the other shark snaps. "Whatever I find is mine!" he screams, lunging with his mouth wide open at my legs.
"Take her!" I scream at the top of my lungs and jolt awake. "The skinny one!"
Eva screams, terrified.
I look around. No shark. Not even a fin. Cursed nightmare!
Thank God it's getting light.
"Why aren't those bastards coming?" I whisper, venomous.
It's evening again. The second evening.
I feel something I never thought I'd feel: thirst. I want fresh water, drinking water. I don't want whiskey, I don't want beer. Just water. Plain water.
I try not to move. If I don't move, maybe the thirst will go away too.
A voice from somewhere deep inside me whispers that only tomorrow will I truly understand what thirst means. Right now it's only circling.
"Wasser," Eva groans.
"Yeah, I know!" I growl. "Thanks for reminding me."
"Wasser."
She's pissing me off. What does she think, that I've got a bottle of water somewhere and I'm hiding it?
"Wasser."
I swear to God I'm going to kill her. I can't take it anymore!
All of a sudden the sky turns a wonderful orange and God gives me the most beautiful sunset of my life. Probably the last.
It's noon. The sea is calmer than ever. No sign of rescue teams. Not a cloud in the sky. Up top, all blue. Down below, blue again. Our yellow vests are the only spots of color.
No matter how careless someone searching from the air is, it's impossible to miss us. But nobody's looking for us. Not even the devil. Not even the sharks are looking for us.
"Tiberiu," I whisper, scared. "Don't make God angry."
No, I don't want sharks. If even a single shark attacked us--just one, even a sickly one, even a baby shark--we'd still die a horrible death.
"Sharks don't go for your neck first," I tell Eva, all polite.
Bullshit. Maybe there aren't even sharks in this part of the Pacific! Maybe it's just a myth! Sharks don't exist here! They don't! They don't!
To keep from going insane, I try to think of something else. Not hard. The thirst is back and it won't let go. I'll think about thirst.
I'm so damn thirsty... Right now even a cold beer from the fridge would work. Forgive me, Lord! Yeah, I'd even take a beer instead of water. Or some iced mint tea.
"Wasser."
She's delirious, poor thing. The sun baked both our brains.
Because of the vests, we're lying on our backs in the water. Only our heads and the vests stick out. When the sun is high, you feel your brains starting to boil.
It's high now.
Another day, same soup. Here and there clouds start to gather. It would be wonderful if it rained. Water!
But it doesn't rain. The clouds scatter fast.
"Perfect weather for looking for two people floating in the Pacific," I grumble, pissed. "Where are the planes?"
What planes? I haven't even seen a bird. There's nobody in the sky, but I'd bet that below the surface, things are completely different.
Whoa! This time it's not a dream. Something touched me underwater twice. Twice I screamed, scared. Eva doesn't even have a voice left to groan. She opened her eyes and closed them again.
What touched me? Something... It left, but I'm scared it's coming back. It will come back.
"Eva," I whisper, "tuck your legs in as tight as you can. Move as little as possible, you hear me? Keep your arms tight to your chest."
"Wasser," she whispers.
She has an absent look. She closes her eyes again. Her lips are cracked, and the way she looks scares me--I'm afraid she's gone insane. Maybe that's better.
We're dried out from thirst. If sharks bit us, there probably wouldn't even be blood. Just red dust.
I start wishing for death. A bullet in the head would be a blessing. Lord, I don't want to live anymore, I don't want You guarding me anymore!
Kill me!