Flood
By Francisco Covino

The water was calm, illuminated with the gold of the sun as it shone complacently in an otherwise blue sky.  On all sides, the horizon met gently with the smooth waves that rolled rolled rolled so casually, pursuing only the infinite rotation of the tide.  All that broke the surface was the occasional reminders of a town once visible and dry – chimneys, tree-tops, a billboard or two, the tallest of street lights, and in the distance, the timid spire of a church peeked out – Doug thought of them as gravestones.
       

A small wooden rowboat floated idly in the water.  In the narrow of the front lay a snow-white tabby curled in a fluffy ball; across from her sat Doug, sprawled out awkwardly within the confines of the small boat, fast asleep with his back lurched from the seat to the floor, where his head rested in a fresh pool of saliva.  He wore a week's worth of stubble on his face; his body was dressed in dirty jeans and a t-shirt stained yellow with sweat.  In between the two was a pile of apples, which consumed the floor of the boat.
           
Lazy and careless, Doug rose up from his rest and, with a swift scoop of his arm, he whipped a sip's worth of water to his face, using the dampness of his hand to wet his face, his eyes, and his greasy hair.  Despite four days on the water, Doug had decided it best not to leave the boat for a swim, for fear that he might not be able to get back in.

Pausing for a moment to take in a gulp of fresh air, Doug instantly swung his torso over the side, rocking the boat as he submerged his head in the water.  As he sat back up with bloated cheeks, he took a quick glance at the cat and slowly emptied his mouth in a smooth stream of water that spattered against the cat’s back, causing her to immediately tense up and cast a fierce look of agitation at him.

The cat’s look was quickly met with Doug’s easy laughter, and her muscles relaxed; her eyes took on a glimmer of content as he ran a wet hand across her soft back.  “I’ve been thinking, Melody, this whole sleeping on a rowboat thing, it’s half bench, half, er, leaning, or should I say, absence of bench…” His voice trailed off from his sudden thought as he surveyed his surroundings.

Following a slight cough to clear his throat, Doug continued as confidently as he had begun. “I don’t like it, I suppose, is the point I’m getting at.  Even sharing a bed with Amelia was better than this, and I hated that.  The way she would always kick over and take control of the bed, forcing me into the side.  That was the worst.  Well, she wasn’t doing it on purpose, I’m sure.  Should one be held accountable for their actions if they’re not conscious?  Or responsible for the dreams their subconscious forces upon them?”
           
Doug let out a sigh, “It’s odd, Melody, how one reflects on these things in times of isolation.”  He paused again and frowned at the cat. “I’m rambling again, sorry.”
           
Doug leaned over the side of the boat and brought some water to his lips.  Doug let his hands enjoy the water for a few moments and then cupped his hands and brought the water to Melody, who gratefully licked up as much as she could before it drained through the crack where his hands met.  “Do you want any more?” he asked.

Melody answered with large eyes that glittered up at him.  “No thanks.”

For a while they floated complacently, saying nothing and letting the cool breeze whistle past them.  Finally the silence was broken:

“You really miss her, don’t you?”

“Who?” Doug feigned ignorance, which faltered upon Melody’s stern gaze. “Oh, you mean Amelia?  Yeah, I guess when I think about it, I do.”  Doug grabbed an apple from the floor of the boat and took a bite as he shot Melody a smirk and a hopeless shrug as apple bits clung to his lips.  “Yup, so to answer your question: Yes, yes I do. And to be honest, she was annoying the hell out of me before all this happened. But I guess that’s the way it works.  You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.  Sorry to sound melodramatic, Melody. I know how that gets to you.”

“I think you might love her.”  Doug noticed that Melody’s eyes looked like they knew everything.

Doug had continued to examine their surroundings with intent eyes.  To emphasize that he was deep in thought, he began to rub his chin with his hand. “I was just thinking, Melody, I’m not really welcome in Canada, or should I say safe from incarceration in Canada, due to some small misdemeanors of my youth that sort of--what’s the word--snowballed over a short time.” 

Melody slowly nuzzled her head into her paws.

“It is funny to think that the police told me not to come back to Canada.  I don’t really talk about it often, you understand; it was kind of a silly time in my life.  I was enjoying the eighties a bit too much. But anyways, I was just thinking that if this flood is as big as they say it is, I wonder if Canada’s knee deep themselves.”

“Well, deeper than that,” Doug quickly added, like the mislaid punch-line of a scarcely funny joke.  Finishing his apple, Doug lay back down and fell quickly into silence.

 

Day 5:  Canada! Maybe / Naked fat man in a red inner tube / Melody takes a nap

Doug woke up with a fire in his eyes.  “We’re going to Canada!” he said proudly, thrusting a finger in the air, as he supposed all great explorers did when they were set on an idea.

“Why?” Melody held a lackadaisical gaze upon him.

“Because now they can’t keep me out.  You have no idea how much this exile has plagued me.  After all, it’s not like we have anywhere else to go.”  Seeing the half-hearted look in the tabby’s eyes, Doug quickly added, “And if we don’t like it, we can go somewhere else.  I promise.  Besides, we have enough apples to last us a month!”  Doug knew that wasn’t true but figured it was best not to dwell on that.

Melody raised her head. “We could go check in with the people in the hills.  Amelia will be there.”

“But she might not.” Doug swung his head to the side to hide the uneasy sadness he could feel filling his eyes.

“I’m sure Amelia is just as scared as you are at the possibility that you’re dead.”

“Well, she wouldn’t have to be if she had come with me.”

“She could say the same to you.”

“We’re going to Canada.  And that’s that.  It’ll be fun.  At least we will be doing something productive in the midst of the flood.”
           
“And what would that be?”

“Well, sticking it to the man.  Something like that.  We aren’t going to let people tell us where to go or what to do!  Got it?”

Before another word could be said, Doug’s attention had become anchored on a massive object floating in the distance.  “Is it just me or does that object have a red aura about it?”

Steadfast, Doug began rowing forward in the direction of the free-floating object, musing over the possibilities.  As his eyes got close enough to make out the figure, Doug found himself approaching a giant naked man with an equally large red inner tube held tightly around him.

The man’s body was plump, to say the least, and tanned from the sun.  The unexpected image made Doug think of popcorn bursting in the pot; the man looked like he might explode at any moment due to the strength of the inner tube, which clung tightly around his belly.  His plump head rested gently atop his shoulders, bald as the rest of his body, vaguely reminding Doug of a Jack O’ Lantern.  Confusion crossed Doug’s mind for many reasons, although the most surprising matter rested in the broad smile of comfort that the large man wore.

“Hallo there,” the man called enthusiastically, raising his hand in salutations as Doug slowly rowed closer to him.

“Hi,” Doug responded simply, unsure how to approach such a situation without forming too many assumptions on the superficial level. 

“How’re you doing today?” Although Doug was now less than a few feet away from him, the man continued to call out his words.  His voice rang strong and filled with a jolliness that made Doug uneasy.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Doug answered. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m just fine as well, thanks.” The man let out a breathy laugh and then continued, “You were making quite a racket in that boat talking to yourself, boy.”

Doug felt his cheeks redden. “Melody, the cat here, and I have just decided to take this boat up to Canada.”

“The flood's just as bad up there, I’m afraid.  As a matter of fact, I hear this here flood has soaked up the entire country, maybe more.”  The large man tilted his head and began cooing and wiggling his fingers. “Is that a cat in there?  Look at that adorable thing.” After a few seconds he refrained and turned his attention, now serious, to Doug. “Never was much of a cat person myself; I always had dogs.”

“She’s my neighbor’s, an old lady.  I found her in a tree after I had taken to the boat. I figured she could use the help and I could use the company.” Doug said this dryly, unsure if the man was insulting him or not.  “By the way,” he added, “how do you know Canada’s covered too?”

“A schooner came by with some health officials yesterday and caught me up with the news.  To be honest though, they seemed as confused as you or I might be.”

“You’ve been out here since yesterday?”  Doug asked with a drooping jaw. “I would offer you a spot in the boat, but...” At the thought of saying the rest of the sentence, Doug grew increasingly uncomfortable and began to fiddle with an apple by his foot. “But I’m not sure you’d fit in the boat.”  In hopes of softening the blow, Doug held out an apple as a token of regret, to which the man shook his hand in refusal and responded with another fit of breathy laughter, heartier than the one before.

“Don’t you worry, boy.” The man continued to chuckle as he slapped his belly like it was a bongo. “And much appreciated, by the way, but no.  The folks on the schooner were trying to get me to come aboard too.  I guess they have some larger boats coming in to take people, but I stood firmly by my no.  And to answer your original question, son, I’ve been here for four days now, since the rain first was deep enough to drown in, really.”

“Why?” Doug asked, at a loss for anything more to add to the conversation.

“This whole rain thing is a pretty absurd ordeal,” the man told him, “I’ve been thinking it’s got to be Global Warming, or something that we’re doing wrong.  So I’ve just been sitting in this here tube I got and thinking.  Therapeutic, to say the least,” he added with another trail of wheezing laughter.  “But the way I see it, I’ve got enough meat on me to last a few days, and enough water around to last for years.”  The wheezing laughter grew ferociously from the man, causing the red tub to rock back and forth unsteadily. 

Doug gripped the side of the boat firmly with one hand and put the other lightly on Melody’s back to steady her as the waves continued in their direction.  “Yup!  And when the time comes, I’ll flip myself over and leave this world mooning the stars, naked as the day I came into this world, minus, of course, this baby.” And with a jab of his thumbs, the large man indicated the red inner tube which secured him tightly.

Instantly, the man went back to laughing to himself, and turned his gaze towards the sky, apparently having lost interest in the conversation.  “I expected to see a rainbow once the rain stopped, but there hasn’t been one,” Doug said, but the man wasn’t listening anymore.  The man didn’t respond as Doug bade him farewell and slowly began paddling northward.

Doug rowed in silence with the tabby nestled in his lap, listening to the splashes as the paddles scooped at the water.  When he felt he was at a safe distance, he whispered softly in Melody’s ear, “What a nut.”
           
But the cat had already fallen asleep.

 

Day 6:  Little is resolved / Doctors would be happy

The apples were running out and Melody was getting restless.  Doug also found himself growing sicker and sicker of the confines of the boat, but refused to let it show, in hopes of comforting Melody.  The apples had become mushy from sitting in the sun for a week.  Melody had grown more at ease to nibble at them in this condition. Doug was happy that things were working out to some degree.

The whistle of the wind had grown to a steady hum that whipped against them, especially at night.  Doug enjoyed how it cast his hair ferociously to the wind, but found himself scared that one evening Melody might be thrown right from the boat, flying over the water into darkness.  His muscles ached from the incessant rowing and his mind ached from the incessant thought of Amelia, who drifted farther and farther away with every stroke towards Canada.

“I’ve been thinking,” Doug began, in a voice that felt contrived and tired, “I can’t really be upset with Amelia.  She was just doing what she thought was the safest thing.  Neither of us knew what was going to happen and so we had to trust our instincts.”

“She should have trusted you enough to follow you.” Melody looked up with agitated eyes.  Doug had distracted her from her lunch as he tickled her chin with his fingers.

“Maybe you’re right,” Doug sighed. “These situations make no sense to me sometimes.”  Doug keeled forward as a pang filled his chest.  In consolation, he snagged one of the dwindling apples from the floor.  “On the bright side, after all these apples, we won’t need to see a doctor for decades!”

 

Day 7:  Fire on the ocean / Midnight swim / Help arrives / What now?

The night was dark; clouds covered the stars, hiding them from view.  Doug supposed this was the ancient explorers’ equivalent to traveling without a map, and sympathized at the difficulty this presented for them, and for him, had he understood the navigation system the sky held.  It was all very depressing.  Melody was curled up in a ball, asleep under the bench to keep from the wind.

In the distance, a light flickered by the horizon like a dancing sprite upon the water.  Doug froze and stared at it as he felt the blood rush to his head, filling him with dizzy warmth and, without thinking twice, he propelled the boat in the direction of the glow.

As he drew nearer, the warmth increased, and soon, Doug found himself staring into the face of a blaze of fire that cut into the cold night sky.  “This is exciting,” Doug mouthed senselessly to the sleeping cat at his feet and the endless expanse of emptiness that enveloped him.  In awe of the beauty, Doug’s mind turned off and for a while he sat there staring at the few exposed branches of a tree that had not only succeeded in piercing the surface of the water, but in erupting into bright and magnificent flames, flames that leapt up and danced into the clouds, shooting embers like falling stars into the wind.

Doug dipped his hand lightly in the water, and then snapped it back in surprise at the warmth that it held.  Without another second passing, Doug stripped away his clothes, poured himself into the water of the flood, and floated happily on his back in the rippling reflection of the fire as all the dirt and grease that decorated him sank into the depths.

Not a thought ran through Doug’s head as he swam about.  The fire slowly began to settle down and extinguish, revealing dark and disfigured branches.  Suddenly, a low moan let loose behind him, causing Doug to splash about uncontrollably as he went into a frantic sprint for the boat.  As he grasped the side, Doug caught sight of the bright light that was hurtling towards him, a light nothing like the flame that was dwindling away behind him.  The light was artificial.  Doug also began to notice that the sun was beginning to make an appearance over the horizon.

Doug could feel his pupils contract uncomfortably as the oncoming light filled his eyes.  Finally, Doug felt the fear let go of him as the familiar shape of a schooner sunk in and the low moan of a bull horn once again filled his ears.  Doug hung in the water, silent and naked, for a short while, unsure what was going to happen.  Eventually, a man in a red uniform came up to the railing and called out to him:

“Ahoy there!  Are you all right?  Quick, come to the boat.” Instantly, a ladder seemed to unfold before Doug, who remained in the water without budging.  Doug only stared up blankly as dawn crept its way past the horizon.

“Hello there. Can you hear me, lad?” The man’s eyes drew thin and, with a wave of his hand, he beckoned a man over who was taller and skinnier, yet dressed identically.

“Are you all right?” the second man called out.  The man scrunched his face together as he gazed out at Doug. “All right, hold still, lad. I’m coming to get you.”  Hunching over, the man prepared for the ladder. “I’m coming to get you,” he repeated in a warm, soothing voice.

In a flash, Doug snapped back to reality and suddenly became flushed with embarrassment at his nudity in the presence of two strangers; everything seemed hard, if not impossible, to explain.

“Wait, no!” he yelled out, startling the two men with his burst of sincerity.  “I’m fine!”  At this, Doug quickly dunked his body underwater. He let the warm water coast over him, making his hair hang gently on end and his eyes burn subtly.  As Doug resurfaced, he could feel his composure come back to him as he took in a deep breath of the cold air.  Looking back at the schooner beside him, Doug found the two faces still waiting for him with looks of disgust fresh on their faces.  One man’s shoes were off now, and the other man’s pants had become unbuttoned.  Doug’s cheeks reddened as he realized that the two men must have assumed he was drowning at first, but now took his submergence as an insult or prank.  Doug decided to change the subject. “By the way, where are we right now?”

The first man let out a groan that made Doug’s apparent ignorance feel like a flood of its own.  Doug slowly began to point out that, aside from the charred up tree-top, everything looked exactly the same. But as the second man answered his question, all Doug’s feelings got swept away:
           
“Regina, Canada, lad.”

* * *

It had taken a few hours of pleading and reasoning before the flood patrol accepted that Doug wasn’t coming with them.  Melody slept through all of it and when she finally awoke, Doug jovially shook off the annoyance he caught in her eye.
           
“I told ‘em I had to head south to find my girlfriend, Melody, and to make sure she’s all right.  Since they were chartered to keep west, they didn’t really argue, but they were worried.  That’s a nice feeling to get from people, y’know; it really makes you feel appreciated.  I’m worried sick about Amelia, Melody, y’know, and I’m gonna tell her just that…”
           
Doug paused a moment to take in his surroundings as he rubbed his chin intellectually.  “Yup, I wonder how that guy's doing, y’know, the one in the inner tube; maybe we’ll see him again.  He was kind of unstable though; maybe if we see him, we should just avoid him.”

Doug looked down at Melody who was stretched out on the bench, scratching playfully at the wood.

“Y’know Melody, I’ve become pretty impressed with my navigation skills.  I think Galileo would be proud; then again, only if we are actually going southeast, like we intend to.  Maybe we should go south, then cut east.  I’m not really sure which is easier.  Oh well, it should only take a few days, either way.”

“Yep, time to check out those hills.  I hope it’s not too crowded.  I bet you do too, Melody; I know you hate the crowds.  I can’t blame you, being as small as you are.  Y’know, I bet one of those big boats will be around there, like the one that big guy mentioned.  I can’t wait to tell Amelia about him.”

Doug paused for another moment to listen to the wind whistle by as he leaned over the side of the boat and brought some water to his lips.  He looked over at Melody; she gazed back silently.  Doug smiled and brought water to her mouth in his cupped hands. She licked it up before it could seep through the crack where his hands met.

Running a damp hand along her soft back, Doug lurched forward and set all of his attention on the floor of the boat.  When he sat back up, in his hand he held the last bit of apple that had been clinging to the floor, now nothing more than an oozing mush.  Gently, Doug brought it up to Melody’s mouth, which didn’t hesitate a moment before gobbling it all up.