Page 161 of The Love Haters

“Do what?”

“Thump his tail against the hull like that.”

I gave Hutch a look, likeHow could that possibly matter?

So he went on: “Repetitive underwater knocking sounds might summon predators.”

Oh, shit.I looked around.

Hutch gave a nod, put his arm up to signal for a basket, and then said, “I’ll take George Bailey first.”

Wait—what? He was taking the dog first?

If I’d been calmer, I’m sure I could’ve come up with many reasons why it made all the sense in the world to make me wait. George Bailey was injured, and bleeding, and possibly summoning predators. Also, hewas a dog. You couldn’t exactly give him instructions. You couldn’t toss him a raft and expect him to climb into it. I—technically—was a functioning human adult.

In theory, I could hold it together a little longer.

But that’s when Hutch’s frowny eyes met mine. “We’ve hit bingo,” he said.

“We’ve hit bingo?” I asked, hoping I was remembering what that meant wrong. “Hit bingohit bingo? Likerun out of fuelhit bingo?”

“That’s right,” Hutch said, keeping his eyes on the lowering basket. “We should already be gone. They’re gonna want to drop a raft for you and go back.”

“Go back?” I choked. “They want to leave me here? Alone?”

“Alonewith a raft.”

What kind of half-assed rescue was this? “They can’t do that!”

“When you’re out of fuel, you’re out of fuel.”

“But I—” I protested. “I can barely swim!”

He was watching the basket meet the water now. “I made that argument.”

“Please don’t leave me here!” I called after him, as he gripped George Bailey’s collar and maneuvered him toward the basket.

“I’ll try like hell to come back,” Hutch said. “But it’s the pilots’ call.”

He positioned himself in the basket with George Bailey.

“You’ll be fine,” Hutch called to me, as the basket started to rise. “Just stay with the boat! And hum something!”

“Hum something?!” What terrible advice. “Hum what?!”

“Anything. Just pick a song and hum it!”

This might sound odd, but, in that moment, as I watched Hutch and George Bailey, my only two friends in this entire ocean, lift up and away toward the rescue helicopter…

I really kind of felt personally rejected.

I get that the circumstances were extreme. I get that Hutch was on duty doing his professional job in the wake of a natural disaster. I get he’d been on duty many hours, and his dog was bleeding, and his helicopter was out of fuel.

But he just really didn’t seem all that excited to see me. You know?

It left me feeling worse than I had before the rescue. And as I watched the hoist from below, I wondered how I would hold it together if they really made the decision to fly away.

Could I even blame them?

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