Magic by the Sea

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Chapter Eleven

Ocean of Trepidation

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The next day started with a great deal more rain. This caused a great deal more whinging from his cousins.

‘But we want to go out today!’ Ruth yowled at her mother. Aunt Joanne crossed her arms over her chest and glared back at her daughters.

‘Absolutely not! It’s a bloody monsoon out there!’ she barked.

‘But we’re bored!’ howled Hazel.

‘Girls, I’m trying to listen to the morning news!’

‘Shut up dad!’

‘Girls, don’t speak to your father that way!’

Tyler’s grip on Ryan’s arm was almost lethal. The kid had never been around so much arguing in his entire life. To think that he had been stuck here alone with them made Ryan’s chest ache.

Ryan hadn’t gone back to sleep last night. Not really. Every time he thought he was drifting off he would jerk awake, cold sweat beading his temples and under his armpits. Twice he could have sworn there was something else in the bedroom with them. His eyes felt raw and itchy. His skin prickled and he jumped at every loud bang which happened often as the girls went around the house slamming all the doors. Alice was sitting at the kitchen table. She had circles under her eyes and a large mug of coffee in her hands. Grandpa Jo was sitting on the couch, pretending to be deaf in his old age.

They hadn’t even been here for two days, and Ryan was already reaching his limit. He missed their home back on the island. He missed his well-worn bed with its patchwork quilt. He missed Trent and Catlin. He missed the quiet with only the swish of the tall silver grasses and crashing waves as background noise.

He was also hyperaware that today was his last day before he was expected back on the shoreline. What would happen if he wasn’t there tonight? Ryan was so tense that his rigid form could have been mistaken for a piece of furniture. He had skipped breakfast. His throat was so dry that he thought eating the jam slathered toast would choke him. Tyler was just as clingy today as he was the day before. Ryan didn’t say anything. He was just as desperate for his family.

He knew this odd sort of stasis couldn’t last forever. How could it? His mother had a job to go to on the island. Granted, she had never taken a sick day in her life and getting leave for the week had probably not been too difficult for her, but she couldn’t just never go back to work. Tyler and Ryan had school in a couple of weeks’ time. They had a house, a home back on that island. All their things were there. All their friends were there.

He had tried just once to talk to his mother. Alice’s expression was utterly impassive. She suddenly became particularly interested in the cartoons the girls were watching and went to go sit with them.

So here he sat.

It was strange, surreal that the rain was so much more ominous here than any other time in his life. He’d always loved the rain. He had fond memories of listening to the cold beating rain on their roof as he and his family played board games or cards. The pieces being so much more slippery as Alice would always make a large bowl of hot buttery popcorn to accompany the games. The rhythmic raindrops would lull him to sleep as a young child and make him laugh as he and Trent would go sliding down the road to the school. The longest slide got to pick the best lunch that day.

Now…

Now the rain seemed like thousands of voices. It was like a living, growing, thundering presence. It was a constant reminder that Ryan should not be here. He should be home, on his island. He should be by the ocean. He should be where Firth could find him.

…

Find him?

Ryan shifted on the couch. Where had that thought come from? His fears? His worries that maybe his family could be hurt? Those were all there, bubbling below the surface. His hand came up to touch the heavy, slightly too tight collar that rested against his throat. After today, he will have broken his promise to return.

What would happen then?

--

This was wrong.

He knew it was. He had never stolen anything in his life! But he couldn’t go to bed.

Wouldn’t.

His brain wouldn’t shut up and the idea of falling asleep and seeing those dreams terrified him. His mind went around and around and around, and he just wanted it all to stop.

He had drunk alcohol before. A couple of months ago Catlin had held a BBQ at her house. Many of their year from school had come and Ryan had been offered a beer. It was mild and they were on school break, so he drank it. After that was a whiskey. He drank it but stopped there. He was enjoying himself. He didn’t really see the need to drink until he was sick. He was safe, faintly buzzed and surrounded by people he liked.

Trent had made fun of him for being a lightweight. Then he fell over into the flower garden. Trent had drunk a lot more than one beer and a whisky. Ryan had laughed and then helped himself to another burger. He thought back to those days, carefree and fun.

He faced the liquor cabinet and bit his lip so hard that it bled. He tested the handle, but it was locked. He just needed something to take the edge off. To help him relax. He hadn’t been able to even sit in one place for more than five minutes since the sun had gone down. He half expected someone to pound on the front door.

He didn’t have the faintest clue what he would do if someone did.

He vaguely remembered that his aunt had opened a bottle of wine to go with dinner. There was at least one third left. It might be in the fridge. He might have been more worried of someone catching the missing alcohol if not for the fact that his cousins often helped themselves to an underage drink. Aunt Joanne seemed to find this funny rather than concerning.

‘Oh, they are such rambunctious young girls but they’re quite responsible!’ she had insisted to Alice’s dumbstruck expression. She didn’t notice as Hazel helped herself to a crisp twenty from her mother’s purse. Ryan rocked on the balls of his feet, deciding on what to do. Suddenly his blood ran cold as a door swung open down the hall and a familiar shrill voice rang out.

‘Ryan, what are you doing?’ Ruth hissed. Ryan put one finger to his lips, trying to shush them. The girls exchanged devious looks and then marched down the darkened hall towards him, hands on their hips. It would be their idea of fun, to get their goody-two-shoes cousin in trouble.

‘What are you doing up so late?’ Hazel weaselled.

‘Yeah. Dad said to go to bed,’ Ruth added pompously. She glanced over at the liquor cabinet and then back to her cousin. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

’What were you doing?’ she said. Ryan hesitated. If he tried to go back to his room now, they would surely raise the alarm.

‘You’re both right,’ he said hastily.

They stared.

’The island is boring. I want to hear about what you’ve been doing, what’s been happening.’ Ryan was so giddy with fear and desperation that the words came out almost easily.

The girl’s faces lit up. They practically squealed and Ryan silently prayed that no one would wake to find them in the corridor.

‘Poor Ryan!’ Hazel cooed.

‘If you’re going to steal the liquor, steal the good stuff,’ Ruth sniggered. She took a bobby pin out of her hair and shoved him out of the way. He watched, dumbfounded as she inserted the bobby pin and began to twist it around. Clearly well practiced, it wasn’t long before the lock clicked open, and she extracted a bottle of amber liquid. The label wasn’t in English.

Together, his cousins frog marched him back to their room with the bottle. Ryan didn’t even protest.

They sat down on one bed and Ryan sat down on the other. Both were decorated with rather hideous flowery bedding covers. Their whole room was massive and decorated in pale pinks and cheerful oranges. All the bright colours were a little disorienting. He shoved a fluffy teddy aside to get more comfortable. Ruth opened the bottle and took a swig. She passed it to her sister who did the same. Hazel wiped her mouth and held it out to Ryan

Feeling utterly out of place, he took it. The girls stared eagerly. He put the bottle to his lips and took a gulp…

Then immediately started to cough and splutter. The unexpected burn made his eyes water. The girls laughed.

‘Told you he would be a lightweight!’ Ruth giggled.

Hazel nodded. ‘Go on, have another drink. You need it,’ she sniggered. Still coughing, Ryan straightened up again and reluctantly took another, albeit, smaller swallow. He managed to keep it down this time. He could feel it sliding down his throat, heating him and settling prickly warm in his belly.

‘So,’ he croaked. He looked from one to the other, hoping they would fill the silence. Predictably, they did.

‘It was so weird when mum said you would be staying with us. You hardly ever come visit,’ Hazel said, her eyes accusatory.

‘Yeah. She said Aunt Alice finally snapped,’ Ruth said cheerfully. Ryan flinched.

‘So, what happened? What did you do?’ Hazel added quickly. He hesitated. He wasn’t sure how much to tell them. Honestly, he didn’t even want to be really talking to them in the first place. They gossiped too much. The bottle was passed around again.

Suddenly, an odd idea popped into his head.

‘An old friend of my dad’s showed up,’ he said cryptically. The girls had matching frowns.

‘Your dad that lives in California? Didn’t he ditch your mum when you were a baby?’ Hazel said with all the grace of a pelican with the fine china.

Ryan nodded stiffly. ‘Something like that. I think there might be more to it than that, but mum won’t tell me anything and when that guy kept hanging around, she wanted us to go away for a while. Maybe she figured he’d give up if we weren’t there,’ Ryan said. He didn’t know if his story sounded believable. Both girls exchanged excited looks.

’Why would anyone want to talk to you that badly?’ Ruth sniped.

‘No idea. Don’t suppose you’ve heard anything?’ he said in what he hoped was an off-hand manner. His cousins shrugged.

‘The weather was so bad that mum didn’t want to go to the coast house for the school break. So we have to stay in this boring place. Aunt Alice called a couple of days ago. I don’t know what she said but mum was really surprised. Then Alice dropped off the twerp and vanished again. It was kind of rude,’ Ruth said, her nose stuck up in the air. Hazel nodded and took a gulp from the bottle. Ryan fought the twinges of anger and annoyance.

‘And your mum didn’t say why?’ Ryan pushed. The girl seemed to think. Their cheeks were getting red from the alcohol. The bottle was pressed back into his hands, and he took another swig.

‘She said that you were having problems. She was kind of worried that guy would show up here again,’ Ryan froze.

‘What guy?’ he asked. Hazel pulled a disgusted face.

‘Some filthy looking homeless guy. He just wandered up our driveway. Dad was about to chase him away when he started shouting some nonsense about how it was our responsibility to help you do the right thing. Said your name and everything. He wouldn’t leave even after dad threatened to call the cops. He was still shouting when dad closed the door in his face. By the time the cops showed up the nutter had just vanished,’ Hazel said. Ruth nodded beside her, wearing the same expression of disapproval.

‘What did he look like?’ Ryan was leaning forward on his elbows, staring from one to the other. The girls shrugged.

‘Dunno. It was dark and dad didn’t want us talking to him. Is that the guy who turned up on the island? Is he like some weirdo stalker?’ Hazel asked. The bottle was now two thirds of the way empty. Ryan was starting to feel a little sick and only pretended to drink the next time it was handed to him.

‘Could be,’ Ryan muttered although he didn’t think it sounded like Firth. For one insane second, he thought… could it have been his father? Was that possible? He swallowed a lump in his throat. Den had told him his father had been killed for starting the war. This just led to more bloody questions!

‘You should just call the police and get him arrested, reported at least. Creepy weirdo like that, who knows why he’s following you.’

‘Maybe he’s a serial killer!’ Ruth hissed, her eyes bright. Ryan tried to look uninterested.

‘Why did Alice say you were coming here?’ Hazel cut in.

‘Well, she wanted us to come for a visit for the school holidays anyway, plus the weather on the island has been worse than usual. I guess when that guy turned up it just pushed mum to leave in a hurry,’ Ryan said in what he hoped was a bored tone. What he had said wasn’t untrue it just wasn’t the full truth either. He didn’t think anyone would believe the full truth. Not even Alice. Not really. She still seemed to be trying her best to ignore any possible problem.

‘Well, whatever. Your mum needs to lighten up a little,’ Hazel slurred. Ryan felt the last of his patience ebb away.

‘I think I’ll go to bed. It was… good to catch up,’ he said awkwardly. Hazel waved him away, apparently bored of the conversation. Ruth just hiccupped.

--

Whilst the conversation he had just finished with his cousins hadn’t exactly been fun, he had learnt something new. What to do with that information, he wasn’t sure yet. The conversation had also helped to distract him from the long crawl of each minute.

Unfortunately, he was now alone again and had nothing to stop him from constantly checking the time. Ryan sat completely rigid on the edge of the bed. His knuckles were white where they gripped the bed covers. His eyes flicked from the digital alarm clock on the bedside table, to the closed window curtains, to the door that stood ajar and back to the clock. He was so tense, his senses on high alert. He had turned the light on then turned it back off again, worried that it would draw attention to himself. He sat in the dark, jumping at every creak, sweating at every strong gust of wind.

11:45.

He felt a little sick. He really shouldn’t have drunk so much. His head was spinning, and his eyes felt itchy. He wanted to scratch them. He didn’t.

11:50.

Was the wind getting stronger? The curtains didn’t move. The window was shut tight. He got up to check that it was locked. It was. He knew it was. He had already checked three times. He glanced out into the darkness. Cold rain lashed the glass. There was the silent glow of distant gold lights from properties down the road. It was impossible to tell if anything moved in the yard below. Ryan closed the curtain carefully and went back to sit on the bed.

11:57.

He felt like a prisoner waiting to be collected by the executioner. He wanted his blades. Maybe it was better he didn’t have them. He had heard stories of people attacking intruders only to find out when the lights came on that it was the daughter sneaking in, the boyfriend coming in late or the neighbour knocking on the door. Someone grunted in their sleep down the hall and Ryan started violently. The bedspring creaked.

11:59.

His breath was sharp and uneven. He was so painfully tense, he thought something would snap. He felt as though the bedroom was shrinking, like the walls were imperceptibly closing in around him. Mouth dry, his eyes fixed on the clock.

12:00

He held his breath.

Nothing happened.

He waited. And waited.

12:02

He let out a very long breathe. The window was intact. The door was still ajar, and the rain still fell. Nothing had happened. It took a long time for Ryan to stiffly climb off the bed. He stood in the centre of the room, not entirely knowing what to do. He had missed his deadline. He was sure that the mermen knew he wasn’t on the island. If they hadn’t known before, they would now. Exhaustion swept over him. He felt sluggish and uncoordinated, helped largely by the alcohol. He crept to the bathroom, splashed some water on his face and drank directly from the faucet. The house was still quiet. He could hear his two cousins snoring.

The world seemed a little more normal. The rooms felt like their proper size again. He could almost believe that these last few weeks had been an utterly bizarre hallucination. His hand came up to touch the collar around his throat. Wearily, he sat down on the toilet lid and traced the collar carefully. No clasp, no lock, not even a seam. He wondered vaguely if he was very careful, if he could saw it off with a serrated knife. Not now though. His hands were still shaking. Ryan checked in on Tyler who had demanded to sleep beside Alice after being frightened by both the thunder and another fight between Ruth and Hazel.

They were both sleeping. Ryan carefully closed the door and slunk back to his own room. He climbed into bed and sat there, still rigid, but breathing a little more normally.

--

‘You look like crap,’ Ruth said cheerfully.

‘Yeah. You are such a lightweight!’ Hazel added. Ryan didn’t look up from his breakfast. Not that he was eating it. The nausea was uncomfortably strong. He really shouldn’t have drunk so much on a near empty stomach. He had, in fact, managed to fall asleep somewhere near dawn. If he had any dreams, he couldn’t remember them and he was grateful.

Alice looked up at her son. She opened her mouth as if to say something but appeared to lose her nerve and got up to make herself a second cup of tea instead. Ryan sighed.

‘Ryan, you really must eat. There’s nothing on you! Don’t you get fed properly?’ Aunt Joanne barked.

‘Yeah, you should eat,’ Ruth cooed, pushing a plate of eggs towards Ryan, and watching with wicked glee as his face paled at the smell.

‘What’s the matter cous, feeling unwell?’ Hazel jeered. Tyler glanced up at him.

‘Are you sick?’ he asked, his little face worried. Ryan gave him a tight smile.

‘A little queasy, that’s all. I’ll feel better soon.’ Ignoring his cousin’s smirks, he forced down a piece of toast and a glass of juice. He did feel a little better with something in his stomach and allowed Tyler to pull him into the other room to watch some of the children’s cartoons on the television.

The rain had finally stopped, and it wasn’t long before Ruth demanded they go to the shops or cinema. It didn’t take long for Aunt Joanne agreed. Alice protested.

‘Oh, don’t be such a wet blanket Alice! You could use a good shop to freshen you up. We’ll take the kids, have a nice lunch out, it will be lovely,’ she cooed.

Alice opened her mouth, but Ruth and Hazel were already dumping their dishes in the sink and calling out to Ryan. ‘Put your shoes on boys! We’re leaving.’

Grandpa Jo excused himself, saying he was going to help their uncle around the house.

‘Got to fix that leak in the shed, need a second pair of hands,’ Tom said as he put on his tool belt. Joanna pulled a face.

‘Just be sure you watch yourselves. I’m not driving anyone to the hospital,’ she grunted, pouring some dog biscuits into a bowl. The cloud of fluff masquerading as a Pomeranian galloped into the room at the sound, barking madly.

‘Maybe it would be good to be outside for a while,’ Alice muttered dryly, staring outside at the weak watery sunlight. Ryan helped Tyler get his shoes on before the party headed out the front door, Hazel banging it loudly shut behind them.

The front garden was littered with debris from the heavy rain. The little flower bed had deep grooves carved into its soft soil, as the though the rain had grown claws and carved out its territory into the countryside. Ryan kept his eyes fixed on the cars. He didn’t want to look around in case he saw footprints in the mud. Footprints that didn’t belong there. Aunt Joanne’s car was more like a minibus. Apparently, she did the school run for the street and often took in the next-door neighbour’s children as well as her own.

They piled in, Tyler excitedly taking the window seat. Ryan didn’t mind. He didn’t want to look out the window. Aunt Joanne gossiped loudly over the radio which played some hideously peppy bubble-gum pop. The drive into town seemed to take no time at all which was good because Ryan’s stomach felt every little jostle and pothole. It was surreal to be around so many humans. The shopping centre was packed with early morning shoppers and children off from school.

‘We’re going this way,’ Ruth called to their mother as she dragged Ryan towards the nearest clothing shop. Ryan sent his mother a panicked look, but Aunt Joanne was already dragging her towards a shoe shop on the other side, Tyler clinging to Alice’s arm. Like mother, like daughters.

Ryan sat down as his cousins starting rummaging through the clothing racks. The noise of the shopping centre echoed around them. People talking, coffee machines going, trolleys rattling, various beeps, trills, and bangs from every corner. The lights inside were overly bright and Ryan groaned miserably as his stared down at his feet, trying to stop the world from rocking a little.

‘How about this one?’ Ruth demanded, posing in front of him. He glanced up to see the sunflower yellow dress she and put on. It was offensive to the eyes.

‘It’s very… bright,’ he managed. She hummed and examined herself in the mirror.

‘Oh, that’s super cute!’ Hazel cooed, coming out to join her sister and an equally offensive bright green dress.

‘It is, isn’t it,’ Ruth agreed, turning one way and then another. Ryan just nodded woodenly when they glanced his way. Sensing potential customers, a shop assistant seemed to appear out of thin air beside them.

‘Can I help you find anything today?’ she chimed in an overly bright voice. When the girls were whisked away to another rack by the assistant, Ryan took the moment to breathe slowly and hang his head again. He really wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take. He listened for a while as the girls chattered back and forth. They rushed in and out of the changing rooms with various outfits. He wished he had his phone. He was already so exhausted… He closed his eyes.

Then he froze.

Cool fingertips traced down the back of his neck, stopping at his covered collar.

‘You made a bad decision,’ said a familiar male voice. Ryan shivered.

‘I wasn’t given much of a choice,’ he rasped. Those fingers slid up again, sliding slowly along his scalp, through his hair.

‘You were and you chose poorly.’

‘You’re not real. You’re not here,’ Ryan hissed, squeezing his eyes shut tighter.

‘Aren’t I?’

Ryan flung his head up, his eyes snapping open. A young girl jumped at his sudden movement, given him an offended look before scurrying away. He looked around. There wasn’t anyone there. He stood up, looking over the shelves but there was no trace of white hair or broad frame.

He was alone. Even so, his neck prickled.

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END

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