In my Online Scribblers, Grammar III, one of my essay-assignments this week was to write a story that begun with this line; “As Joe’s boots sunk further into the mud”. I decided to write about a survivor in a tsunami! So, here is my “story”:
As Joe’s boots sank further into the mud, he realized that the next wave could come any minute. He needed to get to higher ground if he wanted to survive the day! All day, huge tsunami’s had flooded into the valley where he lived, next to the open ocean, and had killed many people and animals. The third wave had just disappeared back into the ocean, leaving a foot or two of mud and sand everywhere.
He realized that many of the people in the small sea-town village where he lived would be dead. Others would be injured. Others swept out to sea. He and the other survivors had to get to higher land!
A while away, a mile or so, lay some large mountain-like hills that towered over the valley. Joe decided that the best refuge would be there, until they were sure that the previous wave had been the last.
“Everyone to the hills”, he cried, to the people of the village, “To the High Hills until we are sure that the last waves have gone!”
A few people, wet, bedraggled or injured, got in line behind Joe, as he led them through the remains of the town, and towards the hills far away.
He was about halfway there, with about twenty people following behind him, when a cry of warning came from behind him, and they started to shove each-other, scrambling for the hills.
Joe turned around to see a huge wave, bigger then the last and almost as big as the first, towering towards them. He rushed after all the other people, towards the hills, but knew he would never reach them in time. Even if he did, he’d still have to climb them! His only hope was to run as far away from the tsunami as possible, so the wave would not be as large when it reached him.
“Run! Run!”, the people were yelling, but the thick mud was hard to run in, and they could only stumble forward as the wave drew nearer!
And then suddenly, in was there. Engulfing them. Swallowing them, and they were surrounded by water. Joe struggled to swim in the wave, but it was too large. He could only flow with it as it zoomed towards the hills.
The other people, especially the already-injured, were drowning in the wave, and Joe knew his only hope was to reach the hills before the water was swept back into the ocean!
He was able to stand up in the thick mud by the time the water reached the hills. Still, he knew it would be hard to survive, because they were trapped in a valley of mud and water. Of the twenty or so people that he had been with earlier, only three remained there; injured and struggling to reach the bottom of the mud below.
“We need to climb”, Joe told them, “It’s our only hope of survival.”
The others nodded, briefly. They started to climb the hills slowly, making their way, bit by bit, closer to the top!
That’s when the next wave hit. It was one of the smallest, slightly larger then the second, but still engulfed the entire valley, rising, rising, rising slowly towards them.
One of the injured people, an old man called Hui, was terrified of the churning waters below. There lay only death, if it reached them. He started scrambling up the mountain, much faster then was safe. As the water levels rose, he grew more and more frightened of them, and ran only faster. That’s when he stepped on a large stone. It went sliding out from under his feet, and he and the stone tumbled off the hill, and into the waters below.
There was no hope of him surviving – the water would quickly kill him. Joe and his two companions continued further up the hill.
At the top, they sat to rest. No more waves came, and the water disappeared far into the sea. Joe was injured, but not so badly. A few cuts and scratches and bruises. His two companions – a man called Peter and a boy called Lug – were similarly injured. Nothing too bad. Unlike the old man, Hui, who had been swept away by the wave. He had been badly cut.
For days, they stayed on the top of the hill; Lug and Peter and Joe. They slept under the trees that survived at the top, and ate only a few raw bird’s eggs, from a branch on one of the trees.
When the time finally came when the mud turned into solid earth, they returned to the village. Bodies layered the ground; of people and animals. Garbage was everywhere. Plants destroyed.
Joe had survived. So had Peter and Lug. And a few others that had fled to other mountains; a woman called Milla, and her son, Billie, and also a young girl called Napi.
They would rebuild their village. Other people from nearby villages would come to take the places of the dead.
But Joe had survived five major waves!
He would always remember that – every time his boots sunk further into the mud…
Thanks for reading!
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