Music in the Night (Logan 4)

He slid off me and lay beside me, his face against the blanket, but his eyes on me. I turned and looked into his eyes, into his beautiful smile of contentment.

"I love you, Laura," he said.

"I love you, too, Robert."

He put his arm over my shoulder, lay his palm against my naked back and closed the distance between us. We lay there, quietly, our eyelids fluttering, suddenly feeling heavy. We both decided to just rest for a little while, and then, like some magic spell, sleep washed over us and we both drifted.

I was the first to wake up. The wind had picked up considerably, spitting sand and water over us. I turned quickly and when I looked up, I saw only low, dark clouds whirling toward us. Seconds later, I felt the raindrops, but the worst and most terrifying sight was the sailboat drifting away. In our haste, we hadn't beached it securely. It was a good ten to fifteen feet from the shore already.

"Robert!" I screamed.

He opened his eyes and sat up quickly.

"Oh, no. The boat."

"We have to get it before it gets washed out too far!" I cried. He leaped to his feet and dove into the water, swimming as hard as he could to the boat. The waves were already at least two feet high. He struggled and reached the side of the sailboat, heaving himself up and over. The sail was flapping hard, the small mast swinging from right to left. Robert struggled to get a good hold on the line, but when he tightened the sail against the wind, the small boat began to turn over and he didn't let go fast enough. It looked like it jumped out of the water, spilling him into the ocean as it capsized.

"ROBERT!"

I was a good swimmer, but not strong enough to battle those waves for very long. It took a monster effort, nearly exhausting me, but I managed to reach the boat quickly. I grabbed hold of the boat and called to Robert again. He surfaced on the other side of the boat, looking dazed. It wasn't until he swam toward me that I saw why. When he had tumbled into the sea with the boat following after him, some part of it had struck him on the head. A thin, but steady stream of blood trickled from under his hair, down his temple, and over his cheek.

"Robert, you're hurt!" I cried. He nodded, but he still looked confused.

We bobbed with the boat as the waves grew higher, stronger. The wind was intensifying, too, and the rain had become stingingly sharp and cold. I looked back at the shore. All our clothing, the blanket, everything was being washed by the tide and slowly sucked into the sea. The shock of it all happening so quickly panicked me. I struggled with the boat in a vain and fruitless attempt to right it. Robert was just bobbing, holding on to the side, either unsure of how to right the boat or so confused he hadn't even thought to try.

"Climb over the hull, Robert, and start to pull the boat upright. Climb!" I cried. "Robert, do it now. We're being swept out farther and farther with every roll of the waves."

Finally, he seemed to understand

. He pulled himself up and reached for the side of the boat, using his weight to turn it upright. He didn't weigh enough and wasn't strong enough, so I joined him as quickly as I could and both of us pulled desperately as the wind whipped against our backs like a cold, wet rope and the rain became a torrential downpour, blinding us.

More desperate, frantic, realizing the danger fully, we gave it all our might and the boat began to turn over. Robert was too excited by our small success and jerked wildly at the hull.

"Just let it turn, Robert," I screamed, but he continued leaping up and down, pulling and grunting, defeating his own efforts.

Finally, the mast came up, the wet sail came out of the water. We were doing fine. We would get it upright, I thought. We'll be all right. Then, another heavy, fierce gust of wind lashed at us and I lost my grip, sliding back into the sea. The boat began to turn over again and Robert lunged with all his strength to prevent it from happening. I saw him fly over with the boat and disappear on the other side. We were at least another twenty feet from shore by now. The rain was falling so hard, I could barely make out the tiny patch of beach.

"Robert!" I called when I didn't see him. "Robert, where are you? Robert!"

He didn't respond and he didn't swim back to me. I kept my grip on the hull and fought my way around the boat. At first I didn't see him, and then I saw his head, just under the surface, his hand floating toward the mast. I moved as quickly as I could, taking hold of the mast and then his hand, pulling with all my might until his head appeared. His eyes were glassy, dazed. There was a wider, faster stream of blood now on his temple and cheek. I thought he mouthed my name and smiled, but it was hard to see clearly with the salt water burning my eyes and the rain pounding my face.

I held on to him. He seemed incapable of moving on his own. His right arm never came out of the water and his head slowly lowered to his shoulder as his eyes closed.

"ROBERT!"

I tried pulling him closer, but I was losing my grip on the mast. The water had made it slippery and difficult to hold. If I didn't let go of Robert's hand soon, I might lose my grip completely and get washed out to sea with him, I thought. My shoulders ached, my neck muscles screamed, and my hand felt as if it were being torn off my wrist.

"Oh, Robert, wake up. Help us. Robert!"

He bobbed with the waves that took us up and down. When I turned and looked back, I saw we were out of sight of the shore. The ocean was sweeping us away.

I remember thinking about Cary, expecting him to appear any moment in another boat, flying over the waves, coming to our rescue. He would be angry, but very, very worried. He would scoop us both out of the sea and wrap us in warm blankets and get us home.

"Please hurry, Cary," I moaned. "Please."

I held on to the mast and on to Robert's hand, but the weight of his body was pulling on my wrist and arm. His fingers lost their grip on mine and he started to slip away.

"Robert. Oh, Robert, wake up!" I pleaded. I thought about shaking his arm, but I was afraid the motion might cause me to lose the tenuous grip I still held on the mast.