Magic by the Sea

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Chapter Two

Someone Else

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When morning came the thunder and lightning was gone, leaving behind heavy but consistent rain. The power was still out and there was hardly any food in the cupboards. Ryan glanced over at his mother.

‘I’m sorry Ryan. I’ve been putting off the grocery shopping,’ she sighed, looking tired and saddened at the prospect of failing to provide food for her family.

‘That’s alright Alice, we’ll have eggs!’ cried grandpa.

Alice glared at him. ‘And how are we going to cook them with no power?’ she grumbled.

The old man laughed. ‘Oh, you young people and your technology. We’ll cook them the old fashioned way on the fire.’ The two followed him into the living room to see that the man had gotten the old fireplace lit up despite the damp wood and chilly temperature.

‘You forget my dear that I had to make do with a lot less in my navy years,’ he teased. Soon, they had some water boiling in the old kettle and the eggs frying in large frying pan. Ryan cut some bread into slices and divided it up, giving each slice a thin layer of fluffy butter. Angelia, down the road, made it and sold her own homemade butter. Tyler strolled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

‘Rye? Breakfast?’ he asked groggily. The little boy was always very sluggish in the morning.

Ryan smiled ‘It’s almost ready; can you put the plates on the table?’ He handed his little brother the plates. He watched him waddle off in his racing car pjs.

‘Eggs are done!’ Grandpa Jo hollered. The eggs were served on the bread, and everyone sat down. Alice cut Tyler’s bread and egg into smaller pieces whilst the toddler watched the rain, kicking his legs lightly.

‘It’s still raining,’ he said in awe, a little more awake now. Ryan grinned. The family ate in comfortable silence, listening to the heavy rain on the roof. As Ryan cleared the plates, there was a loud bang on the door. The group jumped.

‘Now who could that be? It’s raining cats and dogs out there!’ Grandpa Jo spluttered. He opened the door to reveal a rather drenched looking portly woman.

‘Debra? Good gracious, come inside! Let me get you a towel.’ Alice rushed to the linen cupboard and pulled out a large fluffy blue towel. Debra worked as a primary school and day-care teacher. She was almost like family and had been their next-door neighbour since the day Ryan was born. Literally. He had many memories of the gentle woman babysitting himself and his brother in their younger years.

‘Ah! Good morning, Deb. Fancy a cup of tea?’ asked Jo cheerfully as though she wasn’t dripping water all over the floor and furniture.

The shivering woman nodded. ‘Yes please, that would be lovely.’ Recognising his schoolteacher, Tyler promptly ran up to her, chattering excitedly. Deb was a very patient woman with a love for children but sadly, she wasn’t able to have any of her own. Ryan had once overheard her talking to his mother about it a while ago.

‘Come sit next to the fire, warm yourself up,’ Alice insisted. Soon Debra was huddled in the chair next to the fire, swathed in the large towel. Grandpa Jo poured more tea for the adults and made two hot chocolates for the boys.

‘Hot chocolate for breakfast!’ Tyler exclaimed with glee.

‘Just for this morning,’ Alice warmed. Ryan smiled and sipped at his own cup.

‘What are you doing out in weather like this dear?’ asked the old man, handing her a cup with a red floral design. Debra smiled gratefully and took a deep sip.

‘Unfortunately, I was coming back from the school. The road flooded and we had to spend the night there. Pete gave me a lift, but it wasn’t until I got home that a realised I left my house keys back on my desk at work!’ Very few people had cars on the island. Most of the time people were happy catching a lift or walking. Ryan frowned. Trent had been driving around with his dad doing the deliveries yesterday afternoon. He wondered if they were okay.

‘Mum, is it okay if I go check on Trent?’

His mother looked up sharply. ‘Absolutely not! What kind of mother would I be if I let you run out into this storm? You’ll catch your death out there,’ she snapped.

Ryan refused to back down. ‘But the roads are flooded! Trent could be stuck out there. I have to make sure he’s alright!’ he insisted, squaring up.

‘Ryan sweetie, Trent’s father has lived on this island nearly as long as your own family. He knows what he’s doing. Even if they were stuck on a stretch of road, what could you do? It would be much safer for them than it would be for you. Besides, the flooding has gone down since last night,’ Debra said in a consoling voice. Ryan paced restlessly. With the power out, he had no way of checking on Trent other than just straight up going down to his house. There was another loud knock on the door and the whole group jumped again.

‘Now what?’ Grandpa Jo asked in surprise. He unlocked the door and a bedraggled boy trudged in with the rain lashing at his back.

‘Trent!’

‘Twent!’ Tyler squealed. Trent weakly kicked off his shoes.

‘Sorry to drop in on you like this, guys. My dad wanted to let Ryan know that he didn’t have to work today. Probably not tomorrow either with this weather.’ Ryan worked for Trent’s dad as a delivery boy. He didn’t get paid much but it was an easy job.

‘You know our Ryan, always noble in getting the job done,’ Trent teased. Ryan gave his best friend a shove.

Alice laughed. ‘We know. Ryan was just about to start a search party for you,’ she said.

Trent fluttered his eyes dramatically. ‘Oh Ryan, you do care! My knight in shining armour!’ he exclaimed in a highly girly voice. Everyone laughed.

‘Well, you better come warm up by the fire,’ Grandpa Jo said.

Trent beamed. ‘Hi Debra, how have you been?’ he asked, spotting the teacher in the old chair. She smiled.

‘I’m well. I’m feeling my age though. I forgot my house keys back at the school.’ Suddenly the atmosphere in the room seemed to drop. Trent’s grin faded slowly. Ryan gave him a quizzical look.

‘Umm, unfortunately, that wasn’t the only reason I came over,’ Trent mumbled finally. He looked straight faced and gloomy. It was so out of character for him that he had everyone’s attention, even Tyler.

‘Trent, what’s wrong honey?’ Alice asked, shooing him closer to the fire.

‘So then you haven’t heard yet?’ Trent asked, sitting down on the rug by Debra. The group exchanged looks.

‘No, what’s happened?’ Grandpa Jo inquired, seating himself on a chair nearby.

‘Apparently, they tried to ferry people back to the island last night. The ship never arrived at the dock.’ Silence fell in the room. Jo frowned.

‘That’s not a very funny joke young man,’ Jo reminded carefully.

Trent swallowed. ‘I wish it were a joke. There’s estimated to be twelve people missing including Patrick.’ Patrick was a boy from Ryan’s class at school. A sporty lad built like a wrestler, Patrick was a nice guy, but everyone knew he hated living on the island.

Grandpa Jo cursed softly under his breath. ‘Bullocks! What were they thinking!? Trying to steer a ship in that storm?!’ he spat.

‘Dad!’ Alice scolded.

Ryan stood slowly. ‘Maybe we should go scout the coast.’

His mother shot him a scalding look. ‘Not this again! No, you will stay here.’

‘Come on mum, it’s only spitting out there now. The coast guard don’t know these islands as well as we do. What if Trent and I find the boat on the rocks out west? That’s where the currents would most likely pull it.’ Alice looked very annoyed.

‘Let the boys go,’ Grandpa Jo said suddenly.

‘I go too!’ Tyler squealed, clapping his little hands.

‘You have half an hour! That’s it and you come back the instant it starts raining any harder! Tyler stays here!’ his mother barked angrily.

‘Thanks mum, we’ll be quick,’ Ryan promised, shouldering on a coat.

‘Aw man, do we really have to go back out there? My shoes are squishy!’ Trent complained. Ryan shouldered his friend to the door. Grandpa Jo watched them go with a smile. That boy really was something. Tyler waved them goodbye, bouncing up and down in Debra’s lap.

Outside the two boys looked up. The clouds were still swelling. The light rain was sure to be just a pause in the storm. Ryan grabbed a coil of rope from the shed. They jogged down the street.

‘You really think we’ll find something?’ Trent called.

‘I don’t know, but at least I’ll know I tried,’ Ryan said. Water splashed up around their feet, soaking into their socks.

‘Honestly dude, you’re too noble for your own good,’ Trent yelled back. The wind was starting to pick up, turning the gentle sleet into stinging needles. The boys jogged down the road. The currents around the islands had mood swings. The locals knew that often, in bad weather, the currents could change closer to the island.

‘We should try near Point Hut. That’s where that wreck ended up last time,’ Ryan panted. The last storm had carried a very unfortunate fishing boat around the entire island and planted it on the west side, away from the mainland. Thankfully, there hadn’t been anyone on it. Deep in the distance, there was a roll of thunder.

‘This is crazy, we should go back!’ Trent yelled. When it came to fight or flight, Trent was a flight. He was a flight through and through. Ryan paused, slowing back to a walk. It wasn’t fair to drag Trent along.

‘You can go back to the house. I don’t want to force you into coming with me,’ Ryan said carefully. Trent gave a noisy sigh, pulling his jacket closer.

‘Come back without you? No thanks. Your mum would kill me. Let’s just have a quick look, if we see anything we can get on the old battery radio. If not, we go back. Nice and simple yeah?’ Trent asked. Ryan nodded.

‘Yeah.’ The boys took off, going faster this time. In some places the water on the black road was ankle deep. There were no other houses out this way. On his right was the town, on his left was the ocean, roaring and tumbling over huge, pointed shafts of dark stone. Something caught his eye.

Ryan went off the road, jogging through the thick wild grass, water sucking at his legs. He slid down the hill and onto the rocky shelves.

‘Dude, what are you doing!?’ Trent shouted, sliding down after him.

‘I thought I saw something moving in the water!’ Ryan carefully climbed across the rock shelves. Trent stayed back, pale faced and practically jumping up and down.

‘Are you insane!? The waves are coming in higher by the second! Get off the rocks! Are you listening to me!? Get. Off. The. Rocks!’ Trent screamed over the howling wind.

‘Just give me a second,’ Ryan barked. He squinted into the black swirling surf, the water broken by thick swirls of frothing pale grey foam. Had the movement in the water played a trick on him? He swore that for a moment he’d seen…

There!

‘Hey, hey can you hear me!?’ Ryan shouted. Trent frowned.

‘What the hell are you yelling at? There’s nothing there! Let’s go, come on! The ship isn’t here!’ Trent begged.

‘I saw someone out there,’ Ryan called. He stood in the wind and rain, perched on the black rock, his jeans clinging to his legs, his dark hair wet and slicked back. Ryan stared and stared, trying to see a glimpse of colour in those depths. Suddenly he saw something. And it was not a person. The water seemed to part as though something big was swimming beneath the surface. A Greenland Shark maybe? There was the slightest glimmer of a thick fin, and it was gone. Just then, something red caught his eyes. In all the dark, he saw a red shirt and a safety vest.

‘Trent!’ Ryan yelled excitedly.

‘I see him. Throw me the rope!’ Trent yowled over the roaring wind. Ryan threw one end of the rope to Trent. What Trent didn’t realize was that Ryan was tying the other end of the rope around his own waist. He toed off his shoes.

‘You got the rope?’ Ryan yelled. Trent finished knotting it tight around a thick tall rock.

‘Yeah, I got it, so how are we going to… what the fuck are you doing!?’ Trent screamed. Ryan took a twostep run and leapt from the rocks.

When Ryan hit the water, it was icy cold. He had only the briefest of seconds to orientate himself before a wave smashed into him. The cold was intense, like band of steel wrapping around his chest and crushing his ribs. His head broke the surface of the water, and he took a huge gulp of air. He bunched his legs and dove, swimming for the light of the safety vest.

It was dark and it was cold.

The current pulled almost violently on his body, tugged at his jeans and shirt. For one panicked moment, he realized that the current was dragging him sideways, closer to the sharp black rocks of an out growing shelf. He kicked harder and angled himself. Like all of the kids that grew up on the island, Ryan was a fantastic swimmer. His Grandpa had taught him but truthfully Ryan took to the water more naturally than a duck. He had swum confidently and powerfully at a young age. He had quite a few trophies from events he had won on the mainland.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t struggling.

His muscles burned, and his lungs ached. Often, he ended up accidently swallowing water. It was difficult to stay on course, the waves crashing in on him from what felt like, all directions, pounding into him with the force of falling stones. The ocean underneath was a different kind of loud. It rumbled and pulled, silt, seaweed and debris were swirling around him, catching on his feet and hands.

Finally he could see the person. It was in fact, a man. He was face up and his eyes were closed. It was too soon to tell if he was alive. He wrapped one arm around the man and pulled hard on the rope. It took all the strength he had just to stay afloat. Poor Trent was having to pull him, and the man in against the violent current. Even with Ryan kicking as hard as he could it was tough work and very slow going. The man felt so cold. If Ryan didn’t get him to the shore, then he would likely die if he wasn’t already dead.

He made a decision. With his free hand he untied the knot and wrapped the end of the rope around the man. Another wave crashed into them.

Ryan was dragged under.

God, he had never been so tired. His muscles were cramping, his left leg seizing up, but he couldn’t afford to panic. He swam for the surface. Breaking the surface, he realised with horror that he had been pulled further out. Trever was still pulling the man in. He was yelling but Ryan couldn’t hear him. Ryan kicked his legs and tried for shore again.

Something brushed his foot, and it didn’t feel like seaweed.

Don’t panic, keep going, it’s just another drill, Ryan tried to say to himself. Just another training drill. A streak of lighting lit up the sky. The storm was returning. If Ryan didn’t get out of the water soon, he would not be getting out at all. Fear and adrenaline helped him push through the exhaustion, but the current seemed to be getting stronger all the time. His toes brushed something again as his head was pulled under by another wave. He could barely see but for the briefest of moment he could swear there was someone else in the water with him.

Another person from the ship? Had the rope broken? Was he catching up to the man?

There was no red shirt, no safety vest. The water was so violent he couldn’t believe it was a shark. Surely his luck couldn’t be that bad? He kept pushing for the shore. His hand bumped a rock and was sliced up. It didn’t matter much. The sting faded. The cold had penetrated so entirely that Ryan couldn’t really feel his hands anyway. The presence of the other person was becoming foggy. Dimly he became aware that he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. He was barely gaining any ground.

He was drowning.

The thought pierced his unconscious. He broke the surface of the water. Trent had gotten the man back onto dry land. The two boys stared at each other. Trent picked up the rope and threw it out as far as he could. It landed in the water. Ryan tried to grab for it. His fingers weren’t working. It slid away, further, and further. With one last burst of energy, he grabbed the rope, but he could barely get it around his waist. Water spilled into his mouth, and he choked.

Suddenly, the knot tightened around him, fingers securing it in place. They weren’t his fingers. Were they? He couldn’t think, could barely tread water. It seemed like there was a glimmer of long silver hair. A large piece of driftwood struck him in the back of his head, and he saw stars in the darkness behind his eyes. He flopped forward.

‘Hang on buddy, I’m getting you out!’ Trent screamed. Ryan didn’t remember much else. He was back on land, spluttering and coughing. There were voices, shouting and talking. Trent was helping him up.

There were other people. He could barely walk, barely move. He didn’t remember getting home; he didn’t remember Tyler crying or Trent yelling. He didn’t remember a woman crying hysterically over the find of her unconscious but alive husband. He felt warm blankets, felt the hot towels. It wasn’t long before he was asleep, dreaming deeply and heavily of that someone else in the water, someone else outside his window, someone else standing in his room.

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END

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