Author: Elizabeth Fama
Publication: June 9, 2015
She swam up for what seemed like an eternity, with her chest so achingly empty it felt as if it had collapsed, seeing only white bubbles in front of her face until she broke the surface.
One moment of rashness, and fourteen-year-old Emily Slake finds herself amid hundreds of panicked and drowning people in the dark ocean waters off Sumatra. Miles from shore without a life vest, she resolves to survive. But in facing the dangers of the ocean, the desperation of her fellow survivors, and her own growing exhaustion, Emily must summon wits and endurance she's not sure she has.
Striking out on her own, Emily encounters Isman, a frightened young Muslim boy, floating in a life vest. Together they swim for their lives, relying on Emily's physical strength and Isman's quiet faith.
Based on a true story, Overboard is both a riveting tale of survival and a sensitive portrayal of cross-cultural understanding in a time of crisis.
Emily might have been the only fourteen-year-old in the world who could change the sheets of a hospital bed with the patient still in it. She had done it more times than she cared to remember.
“I didn’t come help,” Emily said, refusing the stack of folded sheets that her mother held out to her. “I just came to see if you and James would be home for dinner tonight.” She glanced around the clinic. “Where’s your loyal candy striper? Madjid is good at beds now.”
“We don’t use the term ‘candy striper’ here, Em. I wish you’d be polite to him, at least.” Olivia wiped sweat from her forehead onto the sleeve of her white lab coat. “Anyway, Madjid’s looking for a repairman to fix the air conditioner.”
“What’s the point? It never works,” Emily griped. The humidity was stifling, as it always was in Indonesia, and today there was an odor in the clinic that pinched at the back of her nose and throat. She breathed through her mouth to dull the scent. Emily might have been the only fourteen-year-old in the world who could change the sheets of a hospital bed with the patient still in it. She had done it more times than she cared to remember.
“I didn’t come help,” Emily said, refusing the stack of folded sheets that her mother held out to her. “I just came to see if you and James would be home for dinner tonight.” She glanced around the clinic. “Where’s your loyal candy striper? Madjid is good at beds now.”
“We don’t use the term ‘candy striper’ here, Em. I wish you’d be polite to him, at least.” Olivia wiped sweat from her forehead onto the sleeve of her white lab coat. “Anyway, Madjid’s looking for a repairman to fix the air conditioner.”
“What’s the point? It never works,” Emily griped. The humidity was stifling, as it always was in Indonesia, and today there was an odor in the clinic that pinched at the back of her nose and throat. She breathed through her mouth to dull the scent.
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