Storytelling Week 10: Stay Afloat

I thought I should probably start chronicling my life. Today, my dog began to speak to me. We were down by the river when it foretold of an oncoming wave that would wash away all people. I didn't believe it, but the dog had the sign. It had a barren neck, and I could see the bones. This is a sign to my people that there is divine intervention. I must take its warning and begin constructing a great raft and save my family.

. . .

I began drafting my plans for the raft. I worry that I will not have enough money to cover the costs. We barely can afford anything. And if the dog is wrong, I will have nothing left for sure. But I must trust the sign. 

. . . 

Today, I went and hired help to acquire lumber. I do not think they would have believed me if I told them the reason behind it all, so I fed them a story about building a great home for my family. I guess I was not lying. I am building the a home -- a future in which they may live. 

. . .

Getting the wood has been very hard lately. I am not resting at night because I am constantly worrying about the waters. When will they come? I do not know. It could be tomorrow. It could be in a month.  And the longer we go, the more tired I grow. Hopefully, we will be done soon.

. . .

We are finally done, and I can begin building the raft. The skies grow dark, so I believe it is almost time. The locals think that the gods will descend from the sky to greet us. But they do not know what will really happen. I am almost there.

. . .

My wife is beginning to question the validity of all of this. I try to make her remember the sign of the gods. But we are barely scraping by, and she grows frustrated at how long this is taking. Even the others are beginning to mock me. They think I have gone insane. Maybe I have.

. . .

I now have but one reason to continue -- to save myself. My wife took the children and left me. She said this was all a scam. I thought about stopping. She would surely return if I stopped. But if the flood were truly on its way, then what good would stopping be? I can only hope that she returns in time.

. . .

I am almost done. I am alone, and I am hungry. But I only have a couple days' work to go. The skies grow evermore darker. The winds have been angry, and I swear I hear low rumbles from the skies. I tried to mend fences with my wife. She is still in doubt. But I see the worry in her face. Hopefully I have not lost her for good.

. . . 

It is done. A heavy drizzle began last night. The rivers are flooding. Most others seem worried, but they are too proud to admit I was right. I now am taking shelter on the raft in case the rain picks up while I sleep. I hope they come back.

. . .

I guess today is not the day. Though there is flooding, it is not yet severe enough to change the mindset of the others. I went out looking for my wife and children. I could not find them, and other have not seen them for a week. I hope she has not killed her self and the children out of fear. I would always take her back.

. . . 

It will be tomorrow. I can feel it. The dog is much more restless. She isn't back. Maybe I should leave the raft so that I won't have to live without her.

. . .

Today is a good day. Well, it is bad, but there is good in it. With a loud crack a lightning, the waters began to rise with urgency. The others retreated to the mountains, but they will surely drown even on the highest peaks. They were warned. My wife and children. On the peaks, even they would drown. But they will not drown for they have returned! I asked my wife where she had been the past week. She had been out collecting food to survive for three weeks of time afloat. I knew she would come back. I knew her doubt would recede just as these waters will, too.

~ ~ ~

Author's Note: I based this story on a Cherokee myth known as The Deluge. In it, a dog warns a man of an impending flood and instructs him to build a raft. The man does not believe the dog at first, but the dog instructs the man to look at its neck. The man see bare skin and bones and believes the dog. So the man builds a raft and is able to live while everything and everyone else drowns. For my story, I decide to chronicle the process of building the raft in a journal entry format. I wanted to dive into the mind of the man and his reactions to everything.

Image: photo by Mike Baird