• Part I: The Ship
    Ishmael:
    The Panther sailed on through icy tundra. We’ve passed snowy banks and polar bears. There are large floes of ice drifting along in the water. It seems like a large drink with ice cubes in it. Everybody aboard the ship has been ill….and almost everybody has met a cruel death. Still, the Panther continues on.
    I do not know why I agreed to go on the Panther. It is true that I needed the money. Still, I would have been much happier at home in Friendship, Maine, with my family.
    It is a whaling ship with a captain named Ulysses, a gruff looking man. The first mate is called Fred who is Irish. I do not know either of them very well. In fact, I mostly keep to myself. My true calling is to be an artist. Because of that I sketch.
    But now I don’t sketch very much. Not after so many people have died. There are only a few people left: the cabin boy who is Ulysses’s son, Ulysses himself, Fred. I feel guilty because of it. Guilty that there are families who will never see their loved ones again. Guilty that there are families who are waiting for their loved ones, telling themselves that their loved ones are still safe and will be home soon. But I can’t help it. I’m alive and I’m just going to have to try to forget about the ones who are dead and be thankful because I am alive.
    Charlie:
    I am a cabin boy, the son of Ulysses….the captain. That makes me important. At least, I think it does. I am twelve and it is my first time on a ship. Twelve was the age my father was the first time he was on a whaling ship. He is a natural born whaler which makes him important too. He even has the same name as Ulysses Grant, who was an important general during the war. I wasn’t born yet (it happened thirty years ago) but my father was. He had to fight. He fought with Ulysses Grant. He fought against slavery.
    But enough about the war. It is past and therefore no longer as important. At least I think so, I’d rather not think so much about death. Anyway, there are only three other people alive on the whaling ship and I am afraid. I tell people that twelve is too old to be afraid and people say that isn’t true. My father said he was afraid when my mother died from scarlet fever when I was two. He said he was afraid because he felt so alone. He had never felt so alone in his life even though he had me. He said if it wasn’t for me he might have killed himself. I don’t like to think about that, though.
    My mother’s name was Rebekah. Everybody says I have green eyes as her and the same jet black hair my father had before it started to gray. My mother, according to everybody else, had blonde hair. My father has eyes the color of the ocean during a storm. He looks gruff and if he acted the way he looked it would fit him but he doesn’t. He’s kind and shy.
    Sometimes, lying in my bed (whether it be at home or on the ship) I whisper to my mother. I ask her how she is and tell her about me. I like to fantasize that I know what my mother is saying back to me. I know it is not true though. Still, I believe her to be in Heaven because everybody says she was very good and I believe that, because she is in Heaven, she can hear what I have to say.
    First Mate….Fred:
    I am the first mate. I am one of the few who knows Ulysses for who he is. We are best friends, which is the reason he made me first mate. I believe myself to be the most talkative on the ship as well (of the people who are alive of course). That is a good thing, though I don’t mean to brag.
    Everybody on the ship has been through so much. Ulysses lost a wife, his son who is named Charlie lost a mother, I do not know what Ishmael has been through but I know he has been through a lot. I can tell. I have that talent of being able to really see other people for who they are.
    I hail from Ireland and I plan to bring my parents over to America once I make enough money. Right now I live in Friendship, Maine, with my wife, my son, and my daughter. My son had a brother but the brother died two hours after being born. It was difficult for my wife and me to lose a child. My son is four years older than my daughter. I remember his birth very well.
    He was born in the dead of winter. Winter in Maine means bitter winds and deep snow, not unlike the weather we are facing now. My wife was giving birth so I went out to the doctor. I took a horse and on the way there she bucked me off. I was buried under feet of snow and would have died had someone not come to rescue me. I continued to the doctor. He saw I was wet and insisted I warm up. This was not too smart on his part because when we got there my wife had already started to crown.
    Fortunately our daughter’s birth took place in May, which helped a lot when it came to fetching the doctor. It was also our second birth so we were more experienced.
    I miss my family a lot. I have written many letters but have only received one. I’m guessing their letters were lost. Either that or my letters never made it to them. I cannot wait until I can go back home. I cannot wait until I have enough money so that I can bring my parents over from Ireland. Then I will be able to stop working as a whaler.


    Captain Ulysses:
    I share a name with Ulysses Grant. People say we are alike. And I suppose we are….we both fought for the Union. We both fought to rid our nation of slavery. We look a bit alike I guess. But that’s really it.
    People are afraid of me. This I know. I look gruff but I am not. I am really just sad and depressed. I am lonely. I have my son Charlie. This is true. But my wife passed away ten years ago. She died of scarlet fever. And my son is wise for his years but I cannot talk to him, at least I cannot really talk to him about real subjects. And when I look at him, I see his mother.
    I also have my sister. But she is busy with her own family. We used to be good friends, best friends even. But we drifted apart when my wife died and went our own ways. We live in the same town but when we see each other there is only a hello (and sometimes a smile). Nothing else. And this is why I am lonely.
    But when I am on a boat facing the sea I feel better. I don’t feel lonely anymore because I have the fresh air and the ocean. I can stand facing the wind. I will always have the sea and because of that I will stay strong.
    Ulysses
    Pale face. Sweaty forehead. Gasping for breath. Parched lips. People. Yes, people. Coming in and out. Someone comes. In a hooded cloak. Clear skin. White skin. Someone leaves. People cry. What am I doing? I can’t think of this! It has to stop. It never happened. Clear your mind. Don’t remember. Don’t. Don’t. Please, don’t. If I do….no, DON’T. Not when so many people depend on you to save them.
    But I failed. I can’t be a captain. Captains save people. I failed. I couldn’t save anyone.

    Part II: The Storm
    Ishmael:
    I see a storm brewing. I’m not sure who else does though. There are large, dark, ominous clouds coming towards us. If the storm does occur we will most likely perish. And then there will be no one left on the Panther. The Panther itself will break under the storm’s strength. I wonder if the captain sees it. Shouldn’t he do something? Maybe he feels that we will face death with or without a storm so we might as well not care. And maybe’s he’s right. We hardly have anything: no food (only water), only four people (including me) left.
    The whole time I’ve been on this ship I’ve spent time regretting this. It is true that now I have experience. It is true that now I’ll have money. It is true that now I probably won’t be afraid of anything. Not after seeing a dead whale with blood and gore, not after being so close to death.
    When I was sick I could have sworn I saw the gates to Heaven. I was surprised because I don’t believe in Heaven or Hell. I’ve always thought they were fictional places and made up so that people would be good. I’m not sure if I even believe in god. I am an agnostic Jew. Anyways, first I saw bright light, gates, and then I saw black. Later I woke up which lead me to believe it was a dream. But now I’m not so sure. Maybe I do believe in Heaven and God and Hell. Perhaps they aren’t fictional places.
    I wrote to my family. I hope there will be another boat that is going to Maine that can drop my letter off to my family. But that probably won’t happen. And even if there is a boat my letter probably won’t make it to Maine. That’s the problem with the sea. Letters get lost easily. It is a bit like war. But the sea is more peaceful then war. That is, until the storm. Then we have to battle the weather.
    Charlie:
    We haven’t seen a whale in ages. The reason we’re on this boat is to go whaling. But we only got two whales. Sometimes I read Moby d**k. I feel it is appropriate to read considering we are on a whaling ship. But Captain Ahab is nothing like my father. He seeks revenge. My father seeks peace. Ahab seeks one whale. My father seeks any whale. Ahab lost a leg. My father has both his legs perfectly intact.
    But they are similar as well. They both love the sea. There is a passage in the book where Ahab talks about his young wife who he misses. My father misses his wife as well. Ahab has a family like my father. A family who he loves, once again like my father.
    I am almost finished with the book. The author is a good writer. I like to write as well. I like to write as much as I read. I write poems and short stories. I’d like them to be published but I doubt they are good enough. I haven’t shown them to anyone. I keep them in a box underneath my bed. I brought that box with me and it sits on a chair across from the small bed I sleep on in the cabin. I am thankful that I have a real bed because the other members of the crew have to sleep on hammocks.
    As I gaze out the porthole (I have stopped reading) I see the water is grey. It’s the color the water is when a storm is coming. I’m nervous. If the storm is really bad the ship we are on will break and then we will most likely die. I don’t want to die. Maybe that’s selfish of me, not worrying about others people’s lives and just mine. But I do worry. I don’t want my father to die either. If he died I would have no one. If he lived and I died he would still have the sea. But I’m not like him in that way. I don’t have a connection with the sea nor any of the beings who live below the surface.
    Fred:
    Everybody aboard knows there is a storm brewing. Everybody, it seems, but the captain. If he does he isn’t doing anything. And nobody has the courage to go up and tell him there will be a storm. The clouds are now right above us and I think I have felt a few drops of water although it might have just been spray from the sea. Maybe I should tell him. I will go up to the deck and tell him right now.
    “Captain!” I call, “There is a storm about to start! Shouldn’t we do something?”
    The captain chuckles (I don’t really find that appropriate considering we might die), “I know there is a storm. I know that very well. But what do I do besides sailing a different course? The storm will still follow us. We will still die. I am sorry I am being so frank. But this is how I feel about it. This is my boat and I am the captain so I will do what I feel is best.”
    “Yes, Captain.” The captain usually doesn’t talk much but he does talk to me. He talks a lot to me. And I am glad of that. He knows he can trust me. We are good friends. He also knows I will go along with what he does so I don’t say anything when he says we won’t do anything about the storm. And, I have to admit, I agree with him. I know I should be more optimistic but I don’t know how to be at this moment. After all, we have almost nothing.
    Ulysses:
    I am aware that there is to be a storm though most people probably don’t think so. I haven’t really done anything about it but I feel it is for the best. After all, I can’t steer the boat in a direction where the storm won’t follow us. We’re done for….with or without the storm.
    When the storm comes and the ship breaks I’ll swim and carry my son who is unable to swim. My son is my main priority….saving him. He is all I have left. I hope that we can find an island with people who will be able to rescue us. But that is unlikely. Where we are in Alaska right now is deserted. But then, there are always Inuits. If they are here then they can help.
    Ishmael:
    The storm has hit! There is bright lightning and thunder and giant waves that rock the boat. It’s all over: everybody’s lives, the ship. We’re all over. But what about my family? What will happen to them? They mustn’t die. But how will they make enough money to provide food? I cannot die. I need to survive for my family.
    The ship is breaking and I am forever grateful and that I know how to swim. I swim and swim. I feel out of breath. My arms are tired. It is night. I drift along. The water is shallower. I go underneath, hold my breath.
    My eyes are closed and I’m still holding my breath. I go back up. It’s raining still but I don’t care. The water is freezing which doesn’t help considering the air is freezing as well. Animals keep a distance from me. They most likely aren’t accustomed to a human in their midst. I go back underneath. My eyes are closed and even if my eyes were opened I wouldn’t be able to see. The water is black as ink. Fortunately the stars shine brighter near the sea and they guide me. I feel like how all of those runaway slaves must have felt running away, being guided by stars. But they were walking, I am swimming. They were in groups a lot and I am alone.
    My head hits something sharp. And then there is nothing….
    Charlie:
    The ship violently rocked and broke underneath the storm’s pressure. My captain (did I say captain? I meant father) ran and held me until we were in the water where we are now. It is light now but before it was dark. Father says I fell asleep as he was holding me. He was afraid I might drown. He is swimming and carrying me at the same time. I ask him how he does it and he says he is strong (I suppose he is bragging a little but at that moment I don’t mind it).
    I look up at the bright sun. You would think that with a sun that bright the air and water would be warmer but it isn’t so. My lungs fill up with freezing air. My nostrils breathe in the salty smell of the water. I can see schools of small fish swimming along and I wonder how they are not cold. Don’t they feel the difference between warm and cold? Does it even bother them?
    I drift along as my father carries me. I begin to nod off again.
    Fred:
    It happened suddenly. I can barely recall what happened. And now I am in some strange place. I don’t remember swimming here. I don’t remember anything but the storm. And now I am inside what seems to be an igloo on a furry mat. I get up. I am in new clothes. I go out inside because I smell smoke. It reminds me of barbecue which reminds me that I haven’t eaten in about a week or so. I go outside. There are people. No one from the ship though. But still, there are people. They are cooking something (I believe it to be fish) above a fire (which explains the smoke). Next to them there are two husky dogs. A little farther away are two dog sleds. The people are in the same attire as I: a heavy jacket (that’s furry), boots.
    “Hello,” I say.
    They look up, startled. “Ah, the sleeping man awakes.”
    “What?”
    “You have slept for awhile now. We found you here and brought you to the igloo. You were unconscious.”
    “Do you happen to know anything about a boat breaking during the storm? Do you know what has happened to the other people?”
    “I’m sorry, but I do not. We saw you here unconscious. My guess is that you were swimming, ran out of breath, became unconscious and fortunately you ran out of breath here. If it had been anywhere else (including water) you would have either drowned or if on land you would have died from the cold and from having no food. Where are you from?”
    “I am from Maine but I grew up in Ireland.”
    They nodded. “I see. Sit down. Dinner will be ready shortly.”
    Ulysses:
    So much has happened. I am all right and, thankfully, so is Charlie. When the storm hit us I ran and grabbed him. I couldn’t lose him. We have been swimming for days now. Charlie has slept a lot and it has been hard for me not to drift off into a world of dreams. But whenever I’m about to I think of how if I did Charlie and I would drown. Charlie can’t die.
    I make sure to keep Charlie’s head above water as well as my head because if my head goes down Charlie’s could too. I need to find land with people living there. We won’t survive by ourselves. This I know because we need food which we don’t have. The only food we would be able to eat is fish but I don’t know how to fish. I don’t know why….I am a captain of a boat. But it is a whaling boat and whaling is my one ship….I’m not a fisherman, not a lobsterman, I don’t catch crabs. All I do is whale.
    This has never happened before. I have never been lost at sea in my life. I have been out to sea and back more than I can count. I thought I was a good captain because I was always able to get everybody home safely. But this adventure has proved me wrong. I think I see smoke. I can’t tell if it’s far away or not but I have to get there. I have to keep swimming.
    Part III: Islands and Other Forms of Land
    Ishmael:
    I’ve been wondering if I am the only one alive from the Panther or not. I don’t know where everybody else is. They’re either dead or have found land like I have. There is nobody on the island but me and perhaps there are animals. I am still wearing the clothes I wore on the ship and thankfully I was wearing a jacket on the ship. Still, I’m wet and the jacket doesn’t help it if I’m cold because of the water.
    I’m thankful that, as a boy, my uncle taught me to fish. Without that skill I wouldn’t be able to survive. I have been able to make an igloo…it doesn’t look exactly like an igloo but it still works. I don’t have anything here so when I have free time (which is surprisingly a lot) I simply think. I cannot draw because I don’t have paper or pencil and cannot record anything for the same reasons as the former. I cannot read because how can I without a book?
    I wish I could draw what I see. I’m trying to draw pictures of it all in my mind, though it is hard to keep all of the images there. When I get home I plan to copy everything on to paper. I lost the drawings I did on the boat which is disappointing. I was going to show them to my family. I was going to keep them as a token. But I suppose I don’t need to show them to my family because it seems I will never see them again. I don’t need them as tokens because I’m not sure if I want to remember all of the hardships I faced.
    But then again, it is good to remember both the good and the bad. After all, without the bad we wouldn’t have the good because everything would be good and it would all be the same. We wouldn’t think of it as good. I remember as a child when I was crying I asked my mother, “Why could there not be disease and sadness and death?”
    She responded, “Because without sadness there would be no happiness.” I like that and I try to remember it whenever I am sad or whenever something bad has happened. She also said that without sadness there would be no hope and that hope is essential to life. My mother was a wise woman and it grieved me greatly when she died. But when I was crying and was about to ask myself why people had to die I quickly remembered what my mother said. Then, I felt a little better. Then, I was at peace with myself just like I am now, in the igloo, thinking all this.
    Charlie:
    Has everybody found an island that was on the Panther? Did everybody swim for days? Did everybody find shelter? Did everybody find a tribe that would care for them? Did anyone find civilization?
    My father and I didn’t find an island, well, I suppose we did. We found Alaska, not the small islands that surround it. We were so happy we cried when we saw people around us. My father picked me up and for the first time I saw him laugh. I’ve never seen him laugh or even smile.
    A woman named Becca (which is funny because it is so close to my mother’s name) has taken us in. She owns an inn. When my father told her our predicament she felt so sympathetic she let us stay here for free. She and my father get along very well. When I look at them talking and laughing it makes me smile. I know what love is and I am glad that my father is experiencing it again. He seems happy again. He’s laughing again. I believe that’s how it was when he met my mother.
    Fred:
    I’m still with the Inuit family. There are nine of them, all one family. There are two children (one boy and one girl), their parents, the mother’s parents, the father’s father, and the father’s brother and his wife. It is like one small tribe but it is just a family. They have set up a group of igloos. I sleep in one by myself. In the one next to me there are the children and their parents. Then the elders, and then the brother and his wife. I feel safe now. Of course, every night, by myself, when lying in the igloo I think of my family. I miss them and have cried.
    I haven’t cried since I was a little boy. But it feels good to cry. It’s as if I was a bottle of water and suddenly it just exploded and let everything out. I’ve exploded but it’s a good kind of explosion.
    Ulysses
    Ah, land! Alaska! Alaska feels like home. I haven’t felt at home since my wife died but when I saw everybody I knew. I think my son and I will stay here. Yes, it is cold but it is still by the water which was what I liked about Maine. I want to start a new life here. I think I’ll retire from being a whaling captain and stay in this inn. Yes, my son and I are staying in an inn run by a kind woman named Becca. When saying her name it makes me think of my dead wife. But now I won’t have to be reminded of her. Of course I’ll still picture her and think of her but like I said just now I’ll start a new life.
    I know it is fanciful wishing. I am fully aware of that. But still, I hope. I want this so badly. I can’t believe I’d want something like living in Alaska so much but I do. I surprised myself of the idea but I’ve definitely grown to like it as you can see. I have yet to tell my son, however. I wonder what he will think of it. I strongly hope he likes the idea. If he doesn’t I don’t know if I’d be able to continue on here. We’d have to travel back to Maine somehow.
    I won’t blame him if he doesn’t want to live here. He has a life in Maine. I’d understand. I’d just be upset. It would mean leaving everything behind, all that wishing, and going back to Maine where my wife died and where my sister is, reminding me that we are not friends anymore. That we are barely family. Reminding me of what I used to me and what I can’t have. I don’t want that. But if my son wants it so badly well, then let him have it. Who am I to complain?
    Ishmael:
    I remember now. Thinking so much. I remember. But what if I don’t want to remember? Déjà vu. That’s what I’m feeling right now. Déjà vu. But why? I’ve never been in this position. Never. So why does it feel like I’ve experienced this? I haven’t though. But I have experienced illness. Illness is like loneliness. Both words even end in with and “s”. Two of them. Like snakes. Snakes are bad omens. So the “s” is like the omen for illness and loneliness. It’s a symbol.
    Yes, I remember. I thought about it before. A lot. But now….now it’s like I’m experiencing it all over again. Scarlet fever. Cramped space. Rats crawled. Everywhere it smelled of puke and saltwater. Not a good combination. People died. I was saved. But I almost died. I was so closed. But I am alive and now I’m experiencing everything all over again.
    Part IV: More of the Island….and a New Beginning?
    Ishmael:
    I want to go home. I don’t like the island anymore. I liked the solitude at first. It was peaceful. But now it is lonely. I miss my wife and my children. What happened? Before I was home and was trying to make money to bring my parents over to Maine and all the while I was happy: coming home every night to clam chowder or lobster or crabs or some other kind of fish, seeing my children together playing and my wife setting the table. I miss that. But now, I am stranded with nothing and nobody.
    All I want is to go home. Maybe I’m not an agnostic anymore. Maybe I am an atheist now because if God existed he (or is it He? Or She? Or she?) would grant me my one wish. He/he/She/she would let me go home. He/he/She/she wouldn’t give me such bad luck. But maybe He/he/She/she has a plan. Maybe this was supposed to happen. Who am I? I’m starting to sound like those people who believe in pre-destination. That’s not me though, I don’t believe in pre-destination. I’m pretty sure people choose their own fate.
    Charlie:
    Father came to talk to me. He said we should stay here in Alaska….a whole world away. He said it was up to me to decide and that we would only stay here if I agreed. I am bad at decision making and wish he could have decided himself. I would have gone with what he said without protest. But he’s left it up to me. So now I’m sitting here in our room thinking. He is downstairs talking to Becca again. He’s left me.
    I wish I could go back to Maine. If I was able to I would trek across there but I can’t. I would need food, water, a boat. I would need to be with other people who would help. After all, I’m only twelve. I can’t do everything on my own. I like to think I’m old and mature. I like to think I don’t need help but I do. I suppose everybody does no matter how old they are and I’m not going to be any different.
    I can see in my father’s eyes that he really wants to stay in Alaska and he wants me to be happy. This is his one wish…and he never asks for anything from me. Of course, I don’t have anything to give but still, maybe I should lie and tell him Alaska would be a good change for him. There’s that option or I could tell him the truth. But that would hurt him. I know it would. It would also hurt him if I was having a bad time here and if he found out I missed Maine. It would hurt because I lied to him. He wants me to be able to confide in him. Oh, what do I do? I wish my mother was here…she would know. And even if she wasn’t, I wish she could answer me when if I asked her questions.

    Fred:

    The Inuit family has been nothing but kind to me. Still…I can’t stand the sight of them. They are a real family and because of this they remind me of my family. Why can this Inuit family still be together and why can mine not be?
    Part V: A Glimpse at the Sailors’ Relatives:

    Alice (Ishmael’s wife):
    I have come to believe Ishmael is dead. At first I refused to believe it. But he has been gone for so long. I used to get letters quite frequently but I haven’t in ages. I know that letters are able to get lost at sea but I don’t think it’s that. I don’t know what to do. What will I do if I am right and Ishmael never returns? I cannot support this family on my own. I haven’t told my children my beliefs yet. They are too young. And I can’t bear to see their faces if they hear that their father is dead.

    Ann (Ulysses’ sister, Charlie’s aunt):

    Ulysses and I have drifted apart. We don’t ever talk. We aren’t best friends anymore. Yet, I still feel as if he is a part of me. And now that it seems the boat and everyone on it is lost forever I feel as if I am dying. Ulysses was a good man and I have always regretted not trying to repair the beautiful friendship we once shared. Of course we had our quarrels, as all siblings do, but it didn’t affect us much. It was really once his wife died when our friendship seemed to be destroyed forever.
    If he is alive and he comes back intact (if he’s not intact, if he’s missing a leg or an arm or both or two legs, etc. I’ll still do this) I will do everything in my stead to become close to him again. I feel now that I just can’t bear losing him (although ‘tis true that when he was living and I had lost him it wasn’t too bad).
    Kate (Fred’s daughter):
    I don’t know what has happened to father. I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what he is doing right now. I like to think that I have a special connection with father (more special than my elder brother) but this proves me wrong. If really had a special connection with him than wouldn’t I be able to sense where my father was and what he is doing?
    Oh, I hope he is not dead! I miss him and I know my brother does as well. He needs someone he can look up to. I am still able to look up to Mother and think, “I would like to be like her one day,” but he cannot do that because she doesn’t do the same work as Father or any other man does. I hope he is really safe. I hope he has found shelter. But most importantly, I hope he comes back. I hope he is alright.
    Part VI: With Good Luck Comes Bad Luck
    Ishmael:
    I have to try to escape. I have to or else….or else….well, I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t. I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to die without seeing my family one last time. I know it seems impossible. I have no boat. It will take forever to get back by myself. But I am a sailor and a fairly good architect (I’m not as good building and designing things as I am when it comes to drawing though). I just would need to find material to build the ship with. And, considering there’s so much snow, that’s a bit difficult. What should I do?
    Things seem so hopeless. I’m lost on a stranded island. I can’t reach my family. I don’t know what has happened to them. What if they wrote to me and are wondering where my letter to them is? I don’t want to worry them. When I was with my family I sometimes I got annoyed by my children when they would nag me to play with them and I was busy, “Please father. Come outside with us!” But they are still the most important people to me. Okay, I suppose I will try to build something. But first I have to find material.
    I have just come back and, fortunately, found some small branches and the stem of a leaf that I will tie the branches with. I was surprised when I found all of these but I’m glad I did. Now I need to tie the branches together and set sail.
    The boat is a little unsteady so now, instead of trying to travel all the way to Maine with it I am just going to go until I reach civilization. That might still take a long time though. But it’s okay, what will keep going is my family. They’re my inspiration.
    I would think that being the only sailor would keep me busy but doesn’t seem to be the case. Because it’s just a small raft with no gear I don’t have to worry much about anything. I can just sit here and relax. But there in the corner of my mind, I see storm clouds. No, that can’t be. My eyes are just playing tricks on me. That has to be it. I need to keep going. A storm won’t hit. I know that.
    Strong winds come, rain begins to pour. I see a flash of lightning; I hear a crack of thunder. No, this can’t be happening to me. Why do bad things always happen to me? I lie down. Maybe I will try to go to sleep. I have nothing to lose. I will die either way. What is wrong with me? Just a little while ago I was saying that I would keep going for my family. Now, I am giving up. I close my eyes, sighing. I know how to swim but if I find myself in the water maybe I should just let myself drown. Then I feel rocking. My boat tips over…
    Charlie:
    ` I have made my decision. I will tell my father we can stay here. It seems the right thing to do. He will be overjoyed…well, until he finds out I’m unhappy. But I won’t let him find that out. I will simply try to keep a smile on my face.
    The reason I made this decision was because of my father. His happiness is so important to me. His happiness is what will help me through even my darkest days. I don’t think I can remember a time he was so happy. That’s why I made up my mind to stay here.
    Fred:
    I plucked up the courage to ask the Inuits about a boat. Here is how the conversation went.
    “You have been nothing but kind to me. You have helped so much. You have provided me with food, shelter water and I thank you for that. But….I miss my family. I am sure you understand, having a family yourself. I need to get back to my family now. So, I was wondering, do you have, maybe a boat? I know this is a lot to ask of you…”
    “Of course I understand you,” the father says, “We have two boats over there, by the campsite. You have not noticed them?”
    “Well, I have but, well, I was thinking you wouldn’t let me use one.”
    “I will. Of course I will. Just remember, it will be hard for you to get there on your own. You know that right?”
    “Yes, but I must try. I could never live with myself if I didn’t.”
    He merely smiled. Use it then.
    That was our conversation. After that I took it. I said good bye to everyone and thanked them many times. Then I set for Maine. It took many days but surprisingly I got there.
    It was a miracle. I’m so happy now. I’m so happy to be with my family.
    Ulysses:
    My son agreed to us staying in Alaska! I am filled with delight. Becca has let us live with her at the inn. We will work there as well of course. My luck couldn’t go any better. I am living in Alaska, I am working at an inn and have a place to stay. And now, I will write to my sister.
    Ulysses:
    We laughed. We played in the sun. The two of us. Confined to our garden. So care-free we were. We didn’t know anything. We didn’t know the world. And then….then…..Mother came. Called us in. Said we had to leave. We had to go to Grandmother’s. Father was sick. Mother said to leave. So we wouldn’t get sick either. That was our first taste of the real world. Father lived. Like a little happy ever after ending. But that’s not how things normally go. I should know.
    We had experiences. And after those experiences….we grew apart. Once upon a time we were best friends. Siblings and best friends. But we’re not anymore. And I grow melancholy when I think of all the good times we shared. And all the bad. Like when Father was sick.


    Part VII: Maine
    Alice:
    I know my husband is dead. It breaks my heart. I cry every night. My suspicions from before were confirmed when someone I know who lives here got back on a different boat. When they were catching the whale a body was floating. He recognized him as Ishmael. When I heard that I had no choice but to tell my children. The funeral will happen in a week.
    Friends and neighbors have come to visit me. They are trying to lift my sorrow but that is impossible. I have no interest in seeing him. I just want to be alone with my grief. I read his letters every night before going to sleep and saying good night to my children. I read them over and over. They are tucked away in my desk drawer wrapped by a red ribbon. Not only do the letters sadden me but they comfort me at the same time. It is the only piece I have of him….well, the letters and my children. My children look like him…when I seem them it is as if I am seeing Ishmael again.
    Ann:
    I got a letter from Ulysses! It was the first letter I received from him. He is staying in Alaska. It means I shall never see him. I know that when I saw him before every day it was nothing but now that he’s gone I feel saddened. But not only saddened, I feel hurt. I feel like he has betrayed me. I know he hasn’t but that’s how he feels. This means I will never be able to fulfill my resolution. Still, I will write to him. At least I can do that. Yes, I will write to him every day even if I don’t get a letter from him.



    THE END