Authors: Kay Bratt
“That’s just it, Chai. I don’t know. I told her to run as far as she could before Bo’s body was found. I didn’t even give her any money or food. All she had was my boots and the clothes on her back. I’m so scared something has happened to her. They found the sampan floating in the bay—empty. What if she drowned, too?” He lowered his face into his hands.
Chai nudged him hard with her foot. “She did not drown, Tao. I refuse to think like that. And I bet I know where she went. Come on; we’re going to find her. Tonight.”
“You’re right. The storm is getting worse. Before he went to bed, Baba told me to stay up and listen to the weather reports. I just heard on the radio that we might get more than strong winds, and to stay tuned in case the fishing village has to evacuate. We need to find Josi.” He stood up and headed for the door.
“Get us some rain jackets, Tao. We’re going to get drenched out there. Hurry, before your baba wakes up!”
Tao quickly left the shed and pulled his and Bo’s yellow slickers from the pegs under the porch overhang. The slickers were already wet from the sheets of rain but would provide a little bit of protection. He returned to find Chai pulling on his mother’s boots. He threw her a coat and put his own on over his clothes.
“What about some food, in case we have to stay on the mainland all night? You go back in the house and get us some fruit; I’ll wait out here in case Lao Chan wakes. Hurry, Tao!”
Tao quietly entered the house as Chai stood peeking out of the shed, ready to hide in case anyone else came out. She clutched the door with both hands, anxious but relieved to finally be doing something to find Josi, even if she did get caught and punished by Lao Chan later. She wondered if Josi might be hurt, or if she was hiding somewhere, too scared to come out. The possibilities were terrifying, and Chai had to find her.
When Tao returned with a plastic bag of oranges and a few bottles of water, he beckoned for her to climb into the sampan. He gave her the bag, and he bent to hold the boat steady, a difficult chore with the swells the wind was making.
Chai climbed in and pushed back the thoughts of Josi being there just a short time before. Lao Chan had brought the boat back, and all day it had floated there, an eerie reminder that only it knew the secret of where her best friend had landed.
“We have to hurry. I just heard another alert on the radio and will need to get back and wake up everyone. They said Keso was bringing gusts up to a hundred seventy-eight kilometers per hour and is moving at twenty-five kilometers per hour toward us. They have already shut down the Fuzhou airport and are announcing evacuations. It’s expected to make landfall tomorrow morning,” Tao said, grabbing the oars and setting them up in the wooden holders.
“What will everyone do?”
“Most likely the families will all move to higher ground on the mainland, unless it changes direction by morning. At least the women and children—but many of the men won’t leave their boats. Because Sandu’ao is mostly landlocked, we usually don’t see much damage from the ocean squalls, but this time might be different. It sure feels different.” He pointed at the line of floating houses rocking violently in the wind. “Look at that! The wind feels like it’s coming from every direction. I’ve never felt it like this before.” He began to paddle them quickly away from the house and headed for the mainland.
About halfway to the mainland Chai heard voices calling through the wind. She turned around to find a group of children stranded
on a few rocks near the edge of the bay. She could just make out their silhouettes in the dark, but they sounded young.
“Tao, look! There’s some kids stranded over there on those rocks!” She pointed behind his head.
“Chai, we barely have room in the boat, and I don’t even think I can get in there near those rocks without turning us over. Someone else with a bigger boat will be by to help them soon. What possessed them to get out there, anyway?”
Chai squinted her eyes, peering through the rain to make out more of the scene as Tao paddled faster. Chai could make out the sound of the youngest child’s pitiful wailing. It struck her that just because she hadn’t received any kindness from the people of Sandu’ao didn’t mean she had to be like them. Her father would expect her to do something—anything—to at least try to help the children.
“It looks like they’ve got bundles of stuff with them. They must be from the fishing village and were left there while their parents went after more stuff—a lot of families are evacuating now. Tao, we have to help them; the water’s rising fast, and what if no one comes for them?”
Tao stopped paddling and looked where Chai pointed. He reached up and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes, straining to see the children.
“Fine. I’ll try to get over there. I just hope Baba doesn’t wake up and come after us before we can even make it to the mainland,” he shouted over the wind, paddling the sampan toward the rocks.
As they got closer, the children called out louder, excited to see someone coming for them.
“Bo and I used to play here—but it looks like the water has covered up the smaller rocks so much they can’t make it back to
shore. Chai, I don’t know if we’re going to be able to get them or not.”
“Keep going, Tao. We can’t leave them.”
Tao rowed until he got the boat as close as he could to the children, but it was still too far for them to reach. There was a series of other rocks between him and them, blocking the boat from coming closer. He looked at the floor behind him and saw the rope that was used to tie up to the dock.
“Chai, we can throw them this rope. They’ll have to jump in and follow it to the boat.”
Chai looked at the children: two girls of around eight to ten years old huddled around a toddler boy. They were terrified—she couldn’t imagine they’d get in the choppy water, even to reach safety.
“Which one of you is the oldest and strongest?” she called out to them.
“
Wo shi jiu shui.
I am nine,” the tallest girl called back.
“We’re going to throw you the rope! Catch it, and then your brother and sister will need to use it to come through the water to the boat while you hold the other end. Okay?”
The girl shook her head from side to side, her eyes huge with fear. Chai realized she wasn’t old enough or strong enough for what needed to be done.
“I knew it. They aren’t going to do it. Chai, we’ll have to go get help.”
“No, Tao! I’m not leaving them.” She looked over the edge into the dark water, and a chill at the unknown traveled the length of her spine.
I don’t want to go in—I really don’t. But what else can I do?
Tao picked up his oars and began to back away from the rocks. “We’re going to get help. Now.”
Chai stood up and pulled the life jacket from under the seat. “No, we’re not. They’ll be drowned by then. I’m going after them.” She struggled out of her raincoat, put her arms through the life vest, and began tying it up in the front.
“Chai! You can’t swim! I can’t either. We do not need to get into this water! We have to find Josi. Someone else will be by any minute. Everyone is evacuating.”
Chai looked at the children huddled together and could hear the little boy crying. She thought about her little sister and how terrified she would be in that situation. She stared down, but the water was too dark to see below the surface.
What’s under there? Sharks?
Feeling like she was starting to hyperventilate, she reminded herself she couldn’t drown—
I have a life jacket and a rope
.
“Chai?” Tao called to her, his voice carrying a warning.
She grabbed the end of the rope and stood up, then jumped over the edge into the water.
She went completely under, and the coldness paralyzed her for an instant. She gasped and immediately swallowed a mouthful of salty water.
Even while choking, instinct kicked in, and she fought to get back up to the top. She was freezing, and she didn’t know how to swim—but she and Josi had made a pact to learn how, and how hard could it be? She began to use her feet and, still holding onto the rope, frantically waved her arms around until she started making progress.
She broke the surface, sputtering and looking around for the boat.
“Chai! Are you okay? Get back in here!” Tao stood over the edge, wildly waving her back toward the boat.
She looked to the children and began to use her arms to get farther away from the boat. She had seen older boys swimming before, and using the actions she remembered, she was getting somewhere. The thought of what lived under the waves near her feet moved her faster than she would have thought possible for a first-time swimmer.
Though exhausted, she soon made it to a rock that was big enough for her to climb on. Using arms that felt like jelly, she climbed up and paused to get her breath.
“I’m coming,” she called out weakly, still panting. She was shaking—but from fear or the cold, she didn’t know.
She gathered the rope in her hands and began to hop from one rock to the other and almost slipped back into the water as she moved from one slippery surface to the next.
Before she could get to the rock that the children stood on, she ran out of rope.
“You’re going to have to come to me!” she called out to them.
The girls started inching across the rocks, pulling along the little boy behind them as he cried. They finally made it to the rock next to Chai and stood waiting for directions.
“Why are you out here?” Chai asked them as she wound the rope around her arm to pull it tight across the water.
The older girl answered for them. “Our baba put us out here and told us to wait; he forgot the weather radio. Then he didn’t come back, and the water got higher and higher.” She broke into sobs.
Chai fumed that a parent would be ignorant enough to leave his children in a situation that was growing more dangerous by the minute—rising waters, high winds, with not even the protection of rain gear. She kept her fury to herself and tried to focus on the problem at hand.
“Okay, enough crying. You need to be strong; you are the
jie jie
. Right?”
The girl sniffled. “
Dui le.
”
“Then you have to help me coach your brother and sister to do as I say. Nothing will happen if they follow my directions. Okay?”
“Okay.” More sniffles.
“You.” She pointed at the younger sister. “You look very brave to me. Am I right?”
The girl gave a timid smile through the rain and her tears. She nodded her head up and down.
“Can you swim?”
“I can float.” She wrinkled her brow, a worried look filling her eyes.
“Guess what? You’re in luck. If you can float—you can swim. I want you to ease yourself into the water, and do not let go of this rope. You don’t even have to swim much; just pull yourself along all the way to the boat, and don’t let go. Okay?”
“I don’t want to.” She began to cry more.
“
Bu ku le.
You’re scaring your brother with all that crying. Dry it up. See that big boy wearing the red cap over there in that boat?”
“Yes.” She sniffled and lifted her head to look at Tao. Though he let the rope stay tied to the hull, he kept his hands on it for added security.
“He is amazingly strong. Like a fierce dragon. He will not let go of that end of the rope. And I won’t let go of this end—because I am a warrior princess. I promise. Go on; get in.”
The little girl hesitated and then dropped to her bottom, and grabbing the rope, eased into the choppy water.
“It’s okay,
mei mei
. You can do it,” her sister encouraged her.
The little boy watched, his eyes huge with fright.
“Okay,” Chai called loudly to be heard over the wind as she struggled to keep the rope taut. “Use your hands and pull yourself to the boat.” After a few seconds of hesitance, the girl began using the rope to drag herself through the water. “Go ahead—that’s right.” Chai nodded her head, relieved the little girl seemed to know what to do.
With the added weight on the rope, the boat began to rock side to side precariously. Tao looked scared, but to his credit, he didn’t say anything.
Hand over hand, the girl began pulling herself through the water. Despite her constant choking and spitting out water, she made good progress and got to the boat. Tao pulled her in.
“Send the next one. Hurry, Chai! The rain’s coming down harder.”
“Okay,
jie jie
. Your turn. I’ll make sure your brother is fine. Go.”
The girl peeled herself away from her brother, sending him into shrieks of hysterical crying. Chai reached down and pulled him close to comfort him.
“
Mei guan xi. Mei guan xi.
I got you. We’re next. Okay?”
He clung to her legs and whimpered as he watched his sister drop to her bottom and take her place in the water, clinging to the rope. As Chai held on, the girl quickly crossed the twenty or so feet of water faster than her little sister had, and Tao helped her into the boat. He looked up at Chai.
“Now what? You can’t send him alone,” he yelled across the water.
“We’re coming over together.” She reached down and tied the rope around her waist and knotted it tightly.