“Wesley” was all Anton said. Geremiah grabbed for the child as the ferry
rocked and spun out of control. Still clutching the saddlebag, Wesley
stared bewildered into the big man’s kind face. Geremiah slipped his
knife into the bag Wesley held and lifted the tiny boy into the barrel.
Anton yelled over the din of screams and cries of the passengers scrambling to
cling to the out of control ferry, “Don’t fear my son. Be brave.”
Together the men pounded the lid back on the barrel. “Always take care of
your mother” Anton continued. “Don’t be afraid!” Steadying
themselves and pausing for just the right moment, Anton and Geremiah heaved the
barrel with tremendous force toward the north shore. Geremiah held
his hand aloft as if willing the barrel toward the land. “Drifan.” His whisper
was lost in the gale. The tiny barrel and its precious contents sailed
northward over the turbulent waves.
The current smacked the ferry again and a
torrent of icy water washed over, (I forget what the rule is but I know you need a comma
before the majority of these types of sentences – any readers out there who
know this grammar rule?) taking several more passengers with it.
Anton made a grab for Broxton but the old man’s arm slid through his wet hands
and he was dragged over the side. “The rocks!” someone shouted.
Geremiah grasped Benji around the waist just as the ferry was jolted, smashing
into the first of the boulders jutting from the frigid swells. Geremiah’s broad
back crashed through the railing and both went over into the cold gray
surge. The remnants of the ferry spun again exploding into splinters on
the rocks.
Shouts of alarm
sounded on the shore but already little was left, save debris swirling in the
current and drifting toward the land; a plank of wood, a straw hat with pink
ribbons, a small flour barrel bouncing off the rocks along the bank and several
lifeless bodies.
***
My first thought is that this is a pretty darn good beginning. There are a number of elements within this prologue that could be expanded upon in the first chapter. The boy, Wesley, the gift for his mother he's supposed to keep safe, another survivor perhaps...that's the fun of prologues. How do they tie in to the rest of the story? That said, I’d suggest thinking long and hard
about whether this information – the tragedy – can be imparted elsewhere,
because prologues can be a very difficult sell to agents and editors. I happen to like a good
prologue, but I think I’m in the minority. Anyway. If you decide to keep
it, I would suggest remaining a more distant narrator and lose the description
of Geremiah; it isn’t important to know whether he’s good looking. What’s
important is what’s happening: the ferry is going to go down and Geremiah has
to save his son and the gift – a ring – to “my lady, Mara.” The other option is to see if the information about the tragedy can be imparted another way, either through dialogue, a history lesson, research, family tales, dreams...whatever. The important thing is that if you're going to have a prologue, you have to make it indispensable to the story.
Readers, what do you think?
Oh! To see more of this story, come back on Monday when CD will be critiquing the first chapter. I know I'll be here!