Raft People 2: Floaters

What I Thought About When Writing Floaters…

A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave.

Gandhi

Sometimes all you can do is all you can do.

Leah Green from Raft People

Every savage can dance.

Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice

Home of the brave, land of the free

I don't wanna be mistreated by no bourgeoisie

Lord, in a bourgeois town

Uhm, the bourgeois town

I got the bourgeois blues

Gonna spread the news all around

The Bourgeois Blues - Huddie Ledbetter

The Floaters of Dolphin Stadium

Look lively, Commander Davis ordered his small crew as the pilot turned the sturdy little cargo boat past a large floating debris field.

The boat was thick-hulled, slow and serviceable. It had been built neither for comfort nor speed, but looked like it could survive a meteor impact. When run at slow speeds to preserve fuel, the engine noise stayed tolerable too. The diesel fumes only got bad when the wind blew the wrong way.

We’ve sighted the fabled New Miami, and I don’t want the citizens to think that whatever’s left of the government pays us to lounge in the sun.

The commander sounded serious when he addressed his crew. His lips curved up with the faintest trace of a smile.

Young Ensign Andrew Green had to keep himself from snorting as he straightened up in the crew seat and mumbled the obligatory, Yes, Sir. He could not remember the last day that had not been filled with work from breakfast until supper, or the last night he had not fallen into bed exhausted with columns of numbers streaming past his closed eyelids.

The young officer squinted against the bright sunlight and tried to see the outlines of the new floating village the residents had proudly named New Miami. First he made out the maze of cobbled-together crafts and floating buoys. Every so often a tall building from old Miami stuck out above the water line.

When Andrew looked at some of the half-submerged buildings from a certain angle he thought they resembled giant grave markers, which in fact they were. The Big Leak had started on the Texas side of the old Gulf of Mexico. Still, Miami had been even more vulnerable and flooded faster than Houston, where Andrew came from. The city’s evacuation procedures had also been less successful.

When Andrew looked beyond the submerged and floating structures, he just saw the sparkling ocean until it dipped under the curve of the horizon. To the east, the morning sun was a blinding ball of light in a cloudless sky. He felt small sitting low over the open sea and under the vast blue dome of the sky. Semi-submerged buildings towering above completed the surreal scene and added to Andrew’s feeling of smallness and unease.

Ensign David Brown, his friend and usual duty partner, shook his head at the sight of New Miami. It’s hard to believe there’s a whole big city buried under here.

I know. It’s like all the land just disappeared like it was only something we dreamt or read about. I can’t shake the feeling that these vestiges of high-rise condos and office buildings have always been planted in the ocean.

David looked at Andrew sideways. Andrew expected his friend to make his usual dry comment about an overactive imagination. Instead, the young officer’s dark eyes looked mournful.

I know, he said. When we actually get a break to see a movie, buy shoes, or go to a coffee shop on the mainland, I feel like I’m a visitor from another planet. Isn’t that weird? The most common things from our old life don’t seem real anymore. This is all that’s real. I’m sure it'd be worse for me in Louisiana where I’m from. It’d probably be worse for you in Houston too.

The things you describe don’t seem weird to me.

David grinned then. That’s a great consolation, my eccentric and unusual friend.

Commander Davis let their comments pass. He knew they were sensitive, but quite stable young men. The weirdness had its effect on the best people.

Both young men scanned the nearby debris field. David ran a hand through his close-cropped black curls and readjusted his cap. I hope we don’t see any floaters this morning.

We’ll see plenty of floaters in a few minutes, Chief Warrant Officer Reilly said gaily. Only they’ll be floaters of the walking kind.

David and Andrew had not realized he had stepped behind them to hear their conversation. The big officer probably weighed almost as much as both of the young officers put together, though he had the knack of moving very quietly.

Chief, be sure and watch your language in front of the citizens, Commander Davis said mildly.

Floater was typically a slang term for bodies found in the water, though it was sometimes disparagingly used to refer to Raft People, who stayed out at sea far past the initial crisis of the Big Flood.

The commander was slim, balding, and scholarly-looking. In contrast, Andrew always thought Chief Reilly looked like a sculpture of a man chiseled out of a single slab of granite. They were two very different kinds of patriots.

Reilly nodded respectfully and sighed. Commander, these people have had every opportunity to catch a ferry to the mainland by now. Instead they choose to waste our resources and wait to get wiped out by the next random storm or accident. For all we know, this place is crawling with smugglers or other undesirables by now. I understand Raft People. They didn’t have any choice. But it’s like these folks have mutated into something else. Maybe they figure they’ll grow gills or something. Wasn’t there a movie like that?

"Do you mean Water World?" David asked helpfully. Now it was Andrew’s turn to glance at him sideways.

Reilly grinned. "The way these floating villages pop up and then disappear, it’s more like Brigadoon. New Miami and New Tokyo aren’t the only ones. Most don’t last longer than a few weeks. By the time the Navy maps them, they’re gone."

Commander Davis sighed and shook his head. I thought it was just the kids, but now I’ve got all of you showing off your knowledge of old movies and plays. Chief, I can understand these young ensigns looking for an escape, but I was hoping you, at least, were holding onto reality.

Commander, we’re diverting ourselves a little, Reilly said. I’m not immune to the current situation. You see me as a big and tough old combat veteran, but I’ve got a shred of normal human feelings left, you know.

I never meant to suggest you didn’t. And I agree with you. These floaters, as you call them, do operate from someplace beyond logic, Commander Davis said dryly. Still, it’s not our call. I have orders from the top to support New Miami to the best of my ability, and that’s what I’m going to do. He shrugged and looked frustrated for a moment. "It’s all I can do."

The chief still looked unsatisfied. Commander Davis nodded. Chief, your concerns are noted. Right now, influencing these people is beyond my pay grade. You know how it is. Crap, I only got half of the supplies I ordered for this run. Apparently my influence within the base ship is also limited. I’ll try to figure out a way to do what I can over time, but it won’t be today.

I understand, Sir, Reilly said respectfully. The two men nodded at each other in a way that signaled understanding, if not agreement.

Andrew glanced back and forth between the two older men. Maybe, Sir, they’ve been out here so long they no longer believe the mainland is quite real either. He did not verbalize the rest of his thoughts.

Perhaps their traumatized minds had floated off to the same alternate reality that Andrew’s vivid imagination visited so often. He conjured up another universe where the Big Flood never happened. If that’s what the floaters did too, Andrew could sympathize.

Yeah, but then they need therapy instead of indulgence, David said.

This is getting deep, Reilly said. One corner of his lips turned up into a humorless grin. He glanced down at the mass of scattered containers and inflated tires in the island of floating garbage as if it contained more answers than any of the officers had supplied.

Andrew felt chastised. He still admired the big veteran’s ability to confront the reality in which he found himself. Reilly did not waste time speculating. He accepted the evidence of his five senses and acted on it.

Andrew still dreamed of being back in high school and completing his interrupted senior year. The Andrew in a universe without the Big Flood would be away at a university by now. Andrew supposed that on holidays he would find his way home for a big family dinner with Liz, Mark, and his mom. He might get aggravated by their demands on his time and insist he needed to leave them and catch up with his old friends who were also home for the holidays.

The thought of his mother, Leah, made him wince. In his mind’s eye she was nagging him on the phone or waiting expectantly on the driveway for him to come home from college. In this sad new flooded universe, she was silently waiting in Dallas for him to finally get some leave and travel passes from the US Navy, so he could visit her grave. She was silent now, but her voice still echoed in his head.

Andrew’s official leave request remained in a very long queue that never seemed to move. Commander Davis insisted that he was very sorry and there was nothing he could do. There was nothing Andrew could do. There was nothing anybody could do but wait.

Liz and Mark, his younger siblings, lived simply in temporary housing and attended a refugee school somewhere in Colorado. At least they had been able to attend her funeral. They had been able to give her the favor of making sure she was properly buried, able to grieve and try to heal together. Andrew spent his time doing favors for strangers.

Grief was something Andrew had to bury until he had a break to attend to it. However, those buried emotions had a persistent way of crawling out at the most unlikely times. The counselor on the base ship had told Andrew that healing took time, but time was another commodity he had in short supply.

Andrew felt alone, spinning between the real world and the world that should have been. He was trapped. Right now Andrew felt trapped on a small boat. At other times he felt the same about the confines of the large base ship. Mostly he felt stuck inside his own skin. To combat the feeling, he threw himself into the task at hand as well as he could. He was sure his friend David did much the same.

The cargo boat skirted the end of the garbage field. Both young officers picked up their handheld computer pads.

Commander Davis glanced at his men and took a moment to make sure his officer’s cap sat properly on his balding head after the breezy ride. Right before the Big Flood and his reactivation, he had been a university professor in an industrial engineering college. Acclimating back to military life had not been much easier for him than it had been for his young recruits. Still, he remained determined to set a good example.

Their attention was diverted by larger objects in the floating debris field. Now that it floated right off their starboard side, it was impossible to escape the sight. Most of the island of garbage was composed of small buoyant garbage like sealed containers and other plastics. They were packed so tightly together it was easy to believe the illusion that it could be walked across. These smaller items circled around the remnants of a round and faded toddler swimming pool. A large pet carrier bobbed on the edge.

Look at that, Reilly said. I do believe there’s still a dog in there.

It’s something that used to be a dog, David said. Crap, I could have had a decent morning without seeing that.

I wonder what happened, Andrew said automatically. He did not want to wonder. So he would not be forced to think about the dog, or the dog’s family, Andrew’s mind started to drift off again.

He looked past the mass of garbage towards the floating village. He thought about the last pet his family had owned, a loyal chocolate lab named Roger. He’d cried when Roger died from natural causes a year before the Big Flood. Now he figured it was probably for the best.

Whoa, David said as they approached the football-field sized conglomeration of floating containers, commercially built crafts, and cobbled-together rafts that made up New Miami. He sounded excited. I had heard about New Miami but had no idea they had built it up this much. It’s like a super flotilla!

Andrew shook himself out of his grim reverie and followed his friend’s gaze. The whole floating village had been laid out on a grid pattern, with floating wooden or fabricated pathways making it possible to move from one side to the other without trespassing on too many private areas. The perimeter pathways had been tethered to a handful of high-rise buildings that still stuck out of the water.

It almost looks like a bunch of boats docked in a marina, Andrew said. Only the marina must be the grid of floating pathways. That’s what they call a village out here, I guess.

So that’s Dolphin Stadium, Reilly said. And yeah, Commander, I know not to say that in front of the natives.

Because the floating city was about the size of a football field, laid out in a grid pattern, and because it was tethered at sea between tall structures that might remind an onlooker of goal posts, New Miami was sometimes jokingly called Dolphin Stadium. That referred to the old city’s sports team and the growing population of scavenging marine mammals around the structures.

That looks like pure folly, Commander Davis murmured. Nobody knows how long those anchor buildings will stand. They were surely never designed to stand in water.

Apparently New Tokyo is already five times as big as this place, Sir, Andrew said. He was glad to be distracted from the sight of the pet carrier as he pointed off to the west where new pathways looked half constructed. It looks like New Miami wants to catch up.

I’d surely move away from the buildings, David said. The Japanese are sinking their own anchor stakes so they don’t have to rely upon pre-flood construction. These guys need to do the same thing.

We will send in the engineers to have that discussion, Commander Davis said. For now, let’s stick to our job. The buildings will most likely hold up for a bit longer. Either way, doing anything about it is not our job. Let’s just hope they don’t decide to fall down today.

Greeters already waited on a makeshift dock as the cargo craft moved in. The pilot brought the floating village to port side and glided in smoothly. Once the pilot had them tied off, Commander Davis led David and Andrew off the craft and onto the wide dock. Reilly led one guard on deck while two remained behind with the pilot.

Andrew looked down at his feet to see he was simply standing on a rough frame of treated beams. Old tanks had been lashed to the corners to ensure the structure stayed buoyant. The dock stuck out from a pathway that made up the current perimeter of New Miami. When the residents decided to grow the city this way, they could simply move the dock or use it as the start of a new pathway. The entire construction reminded Andrew of the set of Tinker Toys he had loved as a child.

He shook himself out of his reverie, amazed to consider that this whole fantastic place seemed more real than an ordinary cement sidewalk in his old flooded suburban neighborhood.

The whole thing is like a giant raft flotilla, isn’t it? David whispered to Andrew. He scanned the cobbled-together structure with the expert eyes of somebody who had come from Raft People. In his time he had seen a lot of different arrangements. This was huger than anything he had ever seen or imagined.

Yeah, or it’s like hundreds of rafts lashed together, Andrew agreed. It’s pretty amazing in any case. I’m not in love with the whole idea, but it is awesome.

A slim young woman with dark hair and a deep tan stepped forward and introduced herself as Clara. She wore white jeans, a pastel green sweater, and sensible dock shoes. Even here, floating on the open sea, Clara looked like somebody who was used to shopping in good stores. Close inspection might reveal a worn thread in the sweater and a stain near the cuff of the pants. The jean’s brand label had faded from hard use and many cleanings. Taken as a whole, however, Andrew thought she looked good in her clothes.

Even before the flood, Andrew’s jeans and serviceable T-shirts had mostly been purchased at discount stores. He never cared much about clothes and paid little attention to the right way to combine them. Now he wore a standard issue Navy uniform which was already damp from humidity and sweat. Young women like Clara made him uncomfortable.

A middle-aged man in a good quality polo shirt, faded jeans, and a stained lab coat stood beside her. I am Dr. Sanchez.

Hello, Sir. I’m Commander Davis. It’s good to finally meet you.

The doctor took Commander Davis’s hand for a quick shake. He did not smile. His face looked grim and thoughtful. Andrew thought both Clara and Dr. Sanchez had similar features, and he wondered if the young woman and the doctor were related. A handful of other young men and women stood behind them and did not bother with introductions.

What do you have for us, Commander Davis? Dr. Sanchez asked, frowning at the small craft. You couldn’t have brought too much in that little thing.

What I did bring are two eager young ensigns with computer pads, Commander Davis said with a strained smile. They’re all set up to work with you people to make a prioritized list of supply requests. Besides that, I do have a hundred doses of antibiotics, three hundred doses of pain relievers, and fourteen urgent personal prescription requests. I also have six cartons of baby formula and six cartons of dried milk.

That’s it? Clara asked with an incredulous frown. We have twelve babies and twice that many toddlers. That will last us for less than a week. We also have eight hundred people crammed together in this village, and a hundred doses of antibiotics won’t address our current needs, much less give us any reserves.

This is what I need you to explain to Ensign Green and Ensign Brown here, Commander Davis said. Clara glanced at Andrew and Mark. Her frown deepened.

I tell these kids what I want and that does something? she asked. Andrew doubted she was much older than he was, but he had learned it was best to let the locals rant a bit.

He had already classified her as a bourgeoisie snob who could spot him as a middle class kid, a plebe, on sight. Out here in the flood lands, which was no longer any land at all, they still clung to their self-image from the old days. He still thought the mix of European and Native American features blended perfectly on her heart-shaped face. Her features were strong and defined and still very pretty.

What do some military brats know about us?

Andrew knew he went against protocol but suddenly felt so tired. I came from Raft People. I understand how you feel, but I want to help you.

You did? Clara said suspiciously. What raft were you on?

Well, I’m from Texas, and not Florida, Andrew said. "Leah’s Folly was my family’s craft. My mother is Leah Green. Then the awful thought that his mother was gone struck him again. He frowned. That is, my mother was Leah Green. She passed away before Leah’s Folly made it to the Dry Line."

"You’re a Green from Leah’s Folly? Dr. Sanchez asked. He looked surprised and Andrew thought a smile almost broke through his grim and set expression. Well, we all heard of the Leah’s Folly flotilla here. They made it through Hurricane Elizabeth before grounding, and we all felt bad when we heard about your mom. There was another Green kid that got recorded yelling at the naval commander over the radio. We all heard the recording and it gave us a rare laugh."

Yes, Sir, Andrew said. "That was