"I think I'll go below," he said as he handed me his rod. "Look after Benny."
He staggered across the deck and bent over the rail.
I had expected Benny to get seasick, but not Dad. Well, the kid would probably be next.
The waves were really high now. One second the boat seemed to be standing on a hilltop, and the next it would plunge into a valley. I clung to the rail and watched the waves rise and fall.
My stomach suddenly heaved, and a bitter taste rose into my throat. I leaned over the rail and lost my lunch. I'd never been so sick in all my life—and I was freezing! Goosebumps stood out on my arms like grapefruits. Why hadn't I worn a jacket? Why had I even come? Who needed to go deep-sea fishing anyway? I suddenly realized I hated fish—especially the dead ones in the bait buckets. The stink of them filled my nose, my head—my stomach! Breakfast followed lunch.
"Maybe you'd better go inside the cabin, Joe," said Benny. "I'll help you."
"I don't need any help!"
But I did. I was so weak my legs trembled. I could never have crossed that squirming deck if Benny hadn't supported me. The kid was stronger than he looked. He helped me down the steps and steered me to the bench where Dad was sitting with his head drooping on his chest.
Dad briefly stared at us with bleary eyes before closing them again. I knew just how he felt.
It was warmer in the cabin, but I kept shivering while I tried to keep my stomach from crawling into my mouth.
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2020-09-15
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