Holly

Something in the water

The sand feels different this time. It is rougher and not welcoming. My feet hurt after standing in one place for so long. I can feel the stones and shells digging into my soles.

Ahead of me are large black crashing waves. The sky is gray and sharp, wavy clouds mock the ocean in their stillness.

Despite the intimidating waves and lack of people on the beach, I head into the ocean anyways. After getting past the first line of crashing waves, I find a still place before the waves start forming. Beyond me are larger waves, further out across the ocean.

Taking a deep breath, I paddle towards them. The way my hands disappear into the black ocean and the water bites at my skin gives me thrills. Even if I can't stand, I can still feel the joy of surfing.

The thumping in my heart increases as the waves crash to match it. The waves intensify and the danger grows closer with every stroke. It is a breath of fresh chills. A dangerous addiction to the violent ocean. I can't help but want to throw myself into its depths and try to ride its crushing waves.

The large wave approaches my board and I turn it to match the water. Laying on my stomach, I allow myself to enjoy it. The deep blue arch over me feels like stepping into another world. It is mystifying how violent such an elegant element can be. To have the privilege of surfing on its fists of rage is empowering.

The closing of the wave feels like an hourglass running out of sand. The more time that passes, the closer I get to the jaws of the ocean. The violent force of the waves that I must avoid to stay on the board.

As the wave ends, I push through the crashed water and head for the next one. This time, I'll try standing again. If I focus hard enough, maybe I can balance this time.

This wave is larger and the fear of falling increases. If I fall while in the fist of this wave, I will be thrown around for sure. It won't be easy to resurface.

Challenge accepted.

I force my arms to paddle faster towards the wave. My heart finds its way to my throat as I turn the board again. Since the wave is large, the tunnel of water is big which gives me more time.

Again, I bring my knees up onto the board and steadily push my shaky legs up. Unlike last time, there is no moment of clarity for me. My legs fail me quickly and as I crash into the black wave, I hear something mixing with the rushing water. It is an angry voice, warning me to leave.

I didn't care that my body was being thrown around. That the shards of shells were sliding along my delicate skin. The burn in my lungs and nose did not matter.

Because there is something in the water.

The growl of anger echoes in my head as an unusual wave wraps around me. The rush of water that was slamming me against the ocean floor stops and this wave shoves me towards the shore.

Before I realize what is happening, I am laying flat on my back on the rough sand and coughing up briny water.

Next to me is my board with a long scratch in it. I stare at the board after catching my breath. A boiling rebellion fills my veins and I ignore what just happened. Something unnatural threw me onto the shore, and all I can think is

Fuck you.

Surfing is the only joy I have after the accident. I won't let some stupid ghost in the water stop me. This anger is unusual, however. For some reason, it feels like whatever is in the water is driving my anger over a cliff.

I grab my board and force my shaking legs back into the water. I feel battered and sore, every instinct screaming at me to go back. Stop, take a break. Go home, be safe.

My mind couldn't care less.

I fight against the now raging waves. It feels like I am staring something angry in the face. The waves don't feel like home anymore, they feel like death. It hates me, it wants to crush me.

I don't believe you.

The large waves keep coming and I keep surfing them on my stomach. After each wave breaks, I go back for more. It is as if the thing in the water is just observing me.

I am angered further by its patience, and I bring my knees to the board and stand. My focus is non-existent, so I quickly fall again. The anger at not being able to stand adds to the red wave in my gut.

I want to scream obscene words into the wind, but it isn't just the salt water in my throat that stops me from doing so.

It is the large scale that flies past me. It is black and shiny in the water. The spines are sharp and threatening. I feel a chill go down my spine and the fear to get out of the God damn water finally gets me moving.

Before I can fight the waves anymore, I feel another wave grip me. I close my eyes as it shoves me towards the shore again. In a moment of strength, I reach my hand out and grab at anything I can.

I feel something. A strong, scaly arm meets my palm and I grab on.

The growl that was vibrating my bones cuts short and I feel the water pause for what feels like hours. I quickly got the impression that whoever this is, they did not expect me to touch them. This moment of stillness is their shock.

As the moment drags on, I realize that there must be another reason why they are not pulling away. Normally, shock would have passed by now. For some reason, they don't want to pull away.

However, the moment ends as quickly as it started, and I find myself on the shore.

As I watch the waves calm and the predatory chill fade away, I notice the odd sensation on my hand. It feels as if I am still holding something, but nothing is in my palm. The feeling fades to that of emptiness.

I know I have done a lot today, I'm definitely insane now. But this feeling of emptiness is what is scaring me more than any wave or monster.

This fear is a deep sadness and regret that wants to bury me alive.

I grab my surfboard and sprint home. My breath is heavy as I clamber up the stairs of my house. I am desperate to move past this feeling. Anyone and anything is better than this feeling. I want the emptiness to last as short as possible.

I swing the door open and am met with the groan of Abuela. Instantly, the feeling fades and I feel relieved.

"Close the door!" She quacks.

"Honey, close the door please", my mom calls back in a gentler tone.

I pause to catch my breath before closing the door and leaning my board against the wall.

My mom strolls into the room and looks at my disheveled appearance. "Hon, you alright?"

I nod and take notice of her outfit. She is wearing a purple dress and black heels. Her hair is in gentle curls, and I instantly know what she is up to.

"Who is the lucky guy?"

She blushes and waves her hand at me. "He is just a work friend. We are meeting to discuss a patient."

"In a dress like that, mom? I don't believe you."

"I told you she would know! She is as sharp as her old lady." Abuela shuffles into the room with her cane in the air, adding to her statement. "I hope he knows how crazy we are if he wants to be in this family."

"Chill out, mom. I'm just going to a work meeting."

"I'll drive you there. I want to see what he looks like." Abuela works her way out of the room and towards where we keep the keys.

"I hope you don't think anything bad of me. I promise, it's just a work meeting", she tries to reassure me.

"If you are ready to move on mom, then I'll support you. I would hug you, but I am soaked."

She looks at my suit and then to my messy hair. "I'm sure you will be able to stand with time. Just don't push yourself."

I lose the inclination to speak. I know she is right, and I don't want her to know I am pushing myself. Nor do I want her to know the second new reason why I keep returning to the waves.

"Don't worry mom. It just makes me feel closer to dad. I'm taking it slow."

She gives me a gentle smile and nods. Before she can say anything else, Abuela hobbles into the room and begins to bat her cane at my mom's heels.

"Hurry! I want to know what he looks like!"

"Mom, stop it! I'll break that cane over your head!"

"I can't wait to hit him with it." Abuela chuckles as she rushes my mom out the door.

Never a dull moment with Abuela.