Underwater

Night Calls

It was a quiet night.

A night resembling almost every other at Raymonds Beach.

Everybody was already fast asleep, it was a village near the sea. Well, almost everyone, if you counted out the mischievous teenagers sneaking out of beds while their parents were long asleep, climbing out of the bedroom window and hunting for new and later-regrettable adventures.

James was up late.

He knew his father was awake as well, not entirely sure if he should get up and do something.
It wasn't his choice to make; he did not intend to do anything at all that night. The truth was, he simply couldn't fall asleep, especially on those hot summer days.

He was only a boy of thirteen, and his father already suspected a shadow of insomnia over him.

James just thought that perhaps not everybody needed to get as much sleep; as much his father's knowledge was concerned, it was at least eight hours.

Besides, no matter how hard James had tried, there was no helping but falling asleep at least a few hours before dawn's break and the mellow start of birds chirping, when the thrill of night slowly faded away.

James reckoned he wasn't afraid of the night, no, I can tell fear out of strangeness, he thought to himself. There was something else to the night, he reminded himself to try and be sure.

And yes indeed, there was something else in the night.

He didn't hear it, but he felt it.

Something was calling him out, and when he did go out, it seemed almost like he could hear something, but a part of him told him it was only his imagination.

Hence now, when even his little night lamp wasn't bright enough to put his current reality in his mind, for the reality was only a wall drawing between him and his father who could sneak in every given moment, and if James wouldn't lie in his bed it would result in grounding and maybe even the belt, and still James could not resist the temptation.

Only half naked, wearing a pair of pants smudged with oil colors, he got out of the covers, thinking he prefered the belt over the grounding.
If he got a grounding, it could last for a certain time, maybe a week, maybe two, but the belt, if you could handle the pain, never lasted more than ten minutes.

Taking courage, without even putting his sandals on, James pushed the cracked window just enough to get through his slim body out.
When he did so, not making a sound, he climbed up on the deck and unleashed himself out.

It wasn't as warm in daylight, for the breeze heaved with cold from the distance. The deep sea was no longer hot when the sun hid under it, running away from the world, as if it were sorry to come back here every single day over and over.

James was moving fast, not making a noise as he did so.
His feet were leaving marks on the sand when he finally reached the shore; he no longer saw the grass covering his house.

As he was nearer and closer to the seagulls and the strong smell of the sea, he realized that he didn't quite care anymore of his father's reaction.

That was probably the reason he hadn't taken a bother to check whether his dad was asleep or not. Be whatever might be. He was too far from that problem now, and bothered him it did not.

The night around him was deaf.

Noticing there weren't any living creatures, concerning both humans and animals (even though he thought he heard seagulls), as he approached the wavering waters, he felt calmer.

If he would look back, he would see his own house, not half a mile away. Separating between him and his dad were long rows of sand.

Without looking back, James made himself a seat in the cold sand.

He put his palms on it, running them in.

Sometimes he wished he lived in the sea, so there would be no end to enjoying the endless water, the gentle touch of it against his skin.

He figured his skin would probably turn so dank it will peel off of him. He wished he could grow gills and scales the second he touches the water, so he could spend as much time in it without running out of air or getting his skin peeled off.

As he kept thinking about the water and its wonders , the night drew colder.
Just as James was starting to shiver, he realized that he was down here way more than he'd expected.

He stood up and shook off as much sand as he was able to.

While doing it, he heard a sudden and distant noise.

It was a splashing sound, so dim and fictional he thought he was imagining it.
His head turned towards it, but he saw nothing but misty dark.
Then he realized that at the far end of the port where all the ships were placed in rows, perfectly balanced from one another, he saw something floating.

James didn't see what it was, but not even the idea that his dad would beat him up if he found out about James' little trip had put his curiosity at bay.

Moving forward, not quite realizing what he was doing, James' steady look was placed on one of the boats, a white one with blue and red prints on it (this one was like the rest of them. Their port was mainly made for fishing. It was a very small town near Portland, one of the northeast Long Island beaches. You could barely find it if you looked up the map).

As he came closer, he climbed the deck and kept squinting his eyes on the boat, or correctly, on the waters of her starboard, making some fine, paced steps as quietly as he could. When he finally reached the boat, he saw nothing. Looking around in disappointment, he released a tired sigh.

There was absolutely nothing there except for the sea and the boats.

Maybe it's a dream, he thought to himself.

No.

if it was a dream it wasn't for me to come back home. If it indeed was a dream, I could probably get into that water now and grow scales and gills.

He was aware of the impossibility of such a delusional idea.

Bitterly, perfectly sober now, long forgotten why he was even here, he turned around and started back.

Only in his dreams he saw later again what his imagination believed he witnessed, a fine little human.
A girl human, with such long teal hair that hid most of her pale and wet face.

And just before he woke up to forget everything again and sink in his daily chores and homework, he saw that little girl splash out and disappear into the great ocean, and he heard something.

A jingle that reminded him of strings... and those strings sang away with the last of the girl's splashing.