The ones not saved

We had gathered around the decks to cheer for each of the castaways as they were wheeled off the ship.  We were packed around the edges of the ship shoulder to shoulder.  The press was flashing pictures and police had to push them back.  We clapped and the happy ending we had been a part of seemed complete.  That is, until the wailing started. 

I was five stories above the dock but I could still hear it echoing and reverberating up through and to the ship.  It was the sound of grief.  I know it pretty well by now but it is still surprising to me.  It is more animal sounding than human.  But it is quite possibly the most human noise there is.  Everyone looked at each other surprised at the turn this sendoff party was taking.  The wailing went on for maybe three minutes and didn’t stop until out of the ships hold came a bright yellow bag pushed on a gurney by men wearing disposable paper jump suits.  To my side a woman crossed herself and said Dio Dio Dio.

This is not the ending he should have had.  We were there.  We stopped and got them.  And it was too late for him.  It was too late for whoever was screaming below deck.  This is not how the Hollywood story goes.  The castaways always make it.

Our tour guide in Sanya spoke over the bus loud speaker that was, for some reason, set on echo giving her voice a slight reverb.  “We local people want very much from the bottom of our hearts to thank you sincerely very sincerely for helping our local people in the Indochina Sea”  She spoke with such passion that her eyes welled up with gratitude.  I had been proud of our rescue efforts.  In the same weird way you feel proud when your team wins the super bowl.  You may not have had anything to do with it…but you somehow feel like you were a part of it.  I didn’t feel proud after the body bag and the scream.  There was no victory here, nothing to be proud of.  There was only tragedy and more tragedy every day for the one who made that scream.  So I dropped eye contact with our tour guide and focused on eating my dried mangos.