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Show 81 David got up and scrambled down the last few steps. The back of the launch pivoted from the pier leaving a curved path of creamy froth on the black water. When it was pointed straight out to sea the old man threw the other line and the boat slowly backed away from the platform. "No. Wait. Don't go." David ran from the bottom of the steps across the short pier, shouting and waving his arms above his head. It couldn't leave. Not now. The canvas straps slid toward his neck, burned into the bare damp flesh. From behind and above, high and thin and wavering as he had never before heard it, Darcy's voice reached for him. "Finish it, you coward. I'll hear you. Finish it." He stopped. The concrete had ended. Thirty feet of sea and foam separated him from the launch which for a moment was motionless as it reversed its engine. "Coward!" Again the boat was moving. Coming toward him, coming back. David let his breath spill out. It was going to be okay. But the boat was pulling by him, working its way through a wide arc, sliding by him, the bill of the pilot's cap pointed away, pointed out. Until the boat itself was moving away, its engine suddenly louder, its engine thrashing the water, moving away, out toward the Oia. "Stop. Stop." The words were dead on David's lips. His arms fell wooden at his sides. Unable to look away, he watched as one of the Germans stood up in the back of the launch and pointed toward shore. |
