The Forgotten Land of Myria

ROY

I woke up the next morning, feeling like I could strangle the next hummingbird I saw. Why? Well, there is a certain phase that all boys in the foster home go through, usually from four to seven-years-old, that I call the Dung Bomb Phase. The boys in the Dung Bomb Phase (the Dung Bomb Boys) usually serve no purpose in life other than to terrorize everything and everyone. The Dung Bomb Boys were so noisy, angry, nasty, and hyper, that last month Ms. Bournehaut paid a group of men to build a soundproof basement for them (it was the only improvement she ever made on the cabin.)

Since, apparently, there were “no spare rooms” this time, guess where I was forced to sleep? In the Dung Bomb Basement. The crummy little runts spent the entire night yelling, jumping on the beds, throwing toys at each other’s heads, and chasing each other around with boogers on their fingers. The worst part was that they did all of this while singing a nursery rhyme about hummingbirds that they’d just learned. Not singing, actually. Screaming. At the top of their lungs. It didn’t take me too long to realize that this was Ms. Bournehaut’s biggest punishment yet--teaching the little devils the most annoying nursery rhyme in the world and setting them loose on me in a soundproof basement.

Of course, being the chill person I am, I couldn’t just bully them into silence. No. If Ms. Bournehaut had put me in here, the least I could do was have some fun with it. I gathered the kids in a circle--which took a hell of a long time--and organized a wrestling tournament among them--the winner would get to go to the beach with me the next day and I’d teach him how to surf. As a result, I got the Dung Bomb Boys to beat themselves up until they were so tired that some of them didn’t even make it into bed. I was surprised at how much they wanted to go to the beach with me--which was why I was up at 6:30 am, jumping over the little sleeping bodies on the floor, making my way to the kitchen without waking anyone up. Honestly, I didn’t even know who won that thing.

I finally let out a sigh, as I sat at the table to eat my breakfast. Nothing like a plate of bangers and eggs with fresh orange and beetroot juice to start the day.

While digging through the supplies in the pantry in search of Ms. Bournehaut’s fresh cookies, I heard a squeaking sound almost like a mouse.

“Alice, what are you doing up so early?” I whispered. “You’re supposed to be in bed. The doctor said you need a minimum of nine hours per night.”

“Shhh, I know,” Alice replied. “Then again, what are you doing up so early?”

I grinned lowering my head and kissing her on the cheek.

“You got me.”

Since it was no use putting Alice back to bed, we sat together while I ate breakfast. Alice managed to nibble on one of the cookies.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Alice said, sitting up straight.

I laughed. “I’m gonna go see Ben today for a little welcome-back surfing session.”

Though I expected an exciting reaction, like the ones she usually had, Alice simply nodded with a blank expression. After a few minutes, she questioned me again.

“Hey Roy?”

“Yeah?” I answered.

“I’m scared,” Alice admitted, which was pretty surprising.

“Huh? About what?”

“I don’t want you to go. I...I just have a feeling something bad is going to happen. Really bad.”

“Really bad?” I replied, trying not to sound skeptical, which didn’t fool her much.

“I’m serious,” she said. “I know it’s weird, but...I don’t know...I just have a bad feeling about you going down to the beach today. It’s dangerous.”

I pursed my lips. Alice was very imaginative, so I tried to cheer her up.

“I’m going to be okay. Up until this day nothing has ever happened to me in all my days of surfing. Today won’t be any different.” I waited for a response. “Okay?” I asked. Alice hesitated, but didn’t answer.

“It’ll be fine,” I said, trying to sound as reassuring as I could. “I promise.”

Out the window, I could see the sun coming up.

“Want me to leave you out in the tulip garden?” I asked. Alice nodded, again without saying anything. As I wheeled her out into the fields, I felt her tremble for a second.

“Something wrong?” I asked. She shook her head.

“You know,” she finally said, “you’re the coolest big brother ever.” I smiled.

“And you’re my favorite person in the world.”

The tulips around her were already beginning to bloom. For some weird coincidence, the tulip garden only flourished when she was around--otherwise they would wither.

“I love you, big brother!” she said, landing her forehead on mine.

“Love you too, Alice. I’ll be back soon. Promise.”

With that, I got up, gave Alice a goodbye kiss on the cheek, grabbed an old bike from the tool shed in the yard and headed out with my surfboard under my arm. Before getting on the road, I took another look at Alice to make sure she was okay. Her head was facing out toward the woods and she was squeezing one of her hands, the way she does when she’s nervous. I felt bad about the way she said goodbye, but figured she was just feeling a little lonely.

I realized that after having dropped out of college I had spent a lot of my time locked up in the attic and ended up barely seeing her. With those thoughts in mind, I made a promise to myself that after I got back from meeting Ben I would give her all the attention in the world. Probably even stroll her down to the waterfall in the woods--she’d never been there before.

By then, I was crossing the entrance that led to the beach. The day was sunny, with not a single cloud in the sky, and barely anybody in the water--perfect. With the beach already in view, I sped down the sidewalk, pulsing with excitement. We were supposed to meet at the traditional place--the kiosk owned by our Samoan friend Fillipo.

Sure enough, when I got to Fillipo’s shack, there he was. I didn’t even wait to pull up on the bike--I jumped off and tackled him down on the sand. Ben was a pretty small guy so there was always a lot of tossing around when we met, especially now after 10 months.

“Damn, didn’t they feed you at--wherever you were?” I asked, after we settled down, noticing that he’d easily lost around 40 lbs.

“Chile,” he said, “and lay off, will ya? They don’t have any vegemite in the Andes!”

“And what’s this?”

He was wearing what looked like a rainbow striped, hippie flour sack.

“This is a traditional Chilean poncho,” he said, joking about it himself. “It’s still probably more valuable than you.”

We exchanged another series of insults with each other, which reassured me that he hadn’t changed at all.

“Come on inside,” he said, gesturing toward the shack. “I have some friends I want you to meet. By the way, Fillipo’s not in today.”

That was pretty obvious. Whenever Fillipo was around the kiosk was nice, organized, and most of all, fun. However, some days Fillipo would leave it in charge of his two younger cousins, whose names I still don’t know. When they were in charge, the kiosk basically looked like a slaughter house that smelled of sardines. But I figured I didn’t smell any better, so it didn’t bother me too much.

Ben gestured to a table where two people--a man and a woman--were sitting, waving at us. As we sat down, I saw where Ben got his new looks from. They, too, were wearing those weird ponchos--in fact the normal one was wearing just a poncho. No pants. Nothing. Fortunately, the flour sack covered his business. I couldn’t decide if it made him look smarter or dumber.

“Roy, meet Sally and Russell. Sally, Russell, this is Roy.”

They both extended their hands and I shook them, ignoring the fact that their nails didn’t look like they’d been cut in the past year or so. As much as I noticed those details they didn’t really matter to me--at least after we began talking. Sally and Russell were fantastic people. The three of them told me all about their trip, the volunteer work they’d done, not to mention all the spiritual stuff involved--for a while they even got me thinking of joining--until we finally got around to what I was most looking forward to--surfing with Ben.

Since Sally didn’t know how to surf and Russell wasn’t wearing pants--how hot are those ponchos--it was just Ben and me. The waves were perfect. Not too choppy, not too glassy. And for someone who had gone almost a year without surfing, Ben hadn’t lost his touch at all. More importantly, we were able to catch up on a lot of things in between sets. I told him about things back home, how Alice was doing, how the Boarhound was making me live in the attic--though I didn’t tell him why. However, that subject caught me by surprise.

“So, how’s college?” Ben asked at the line-up. “You haven’t mentioned it yet.” His tone told me that he already knew something. While I stood there, trying to come up with a good answer, he cut right to the point.

“Why did you drop out, Roy?” he said, trailing his hand in the water.

“Damn it, did Jenna tell you?”

“That’s a serious matter,” he cut me off. “It’s not something to joke around about.”

“I’m not joking about it,” I said, though I couldn’t hide the smirk in my face. “I just don’t think it’s for me, that’s all.”

“Not for you? You’ve got acceptable grades, you’re on the rugby team--and you’re a natural--and you’ve only got a little over two years to go. Besides, marine biology will just give you another excuse to be out here in the ocean.”

I looked around, following Ben’s gesture. Not so far from shore were a few yachts and sailboats and a couple of cruisers that were all embarking on holiday trips to Polynesia or some small island around the coast of Queensland.

“Well, I don’t need marine biology to be in the ocean,” I responded. “I could dedicate myself full-time to surfing and go pro like you.”

Ben looked down. “Look, Roy I just worry about you, that’s all. Life’s not all about living it up. You have to face it. It takes hard work. Discipline. Besides, in a few years’ time Alice will leave the foster home and she’ll need a financially stable brother to look after her. And sometimes being a competitive surfer isn’t the best option.”

“Okay, how much did Jenna pay you to say this bullshit?”

“I’m serious.” Ben’s eyes were fixed on mine and I thought of something else.

“You don’t think I can do it, do you? Be a professional surfer?”

“Look I’m just trying to help you-”

We were interrupted by thunder. We froze. Leaden clouds were closing the sky faster than we could swim back to shore. Great.

“I think we should go back to the shack and sit out until the sky clears up,” Ben replied, partly as a way to end our conversation. I nodded. Frantically, we hand-paddled away when something began to pull us in the opposite direction. We paddled harder but stayed in the same place.

“Swim sideways!” Ben yelled. “Swim sideways!” He wheeled his surfboard out but the current was too strong.

I felt my legs tingle as if something was wrapping around them. I couldn’t move anywhere and I found myself sinking, desperately holding on to my surfboard like it was my job. All hell broke loose when an unbelievably huge wave began to take shape right behind me. I could hear other surfers scream as they were also caught in what was now pulling me so hard it seemed like a gigantic drain pipe.

There was a cold silence as a powerful rumble bellowed from under the water. I looked at Ben who was clawing at his board almost ripping it to shreds.

“Ben?” I screeched. “It’s not a current!”

The wave behind us was growing constantly and was now about thirty feet tall pulling us to its core. I heard cries and shrieks as I felt my head spinning.

“Roy!” Ben yelled. “Duck!”

He pushed his body against the tip of the board and slowly sank under the water. I didn’t know how to react and figured it was too late for me to try to take cover under the wave. Looking around me, I saw other waves being formed and they seemed to be simultaneously spinning counter-clockwise as if some force at the core was pulling them towards it. This couldn’t even be a tsunami. Was there such a thing as an underwater tornado? Horrified, I spotted Ben’s board come up out of the water, broken in half.

“BEN!” I yelled helplessly.

Dizziness crept in and I didn’t know what to think. I was trying desperately to fight the waves, but the current was too strong. I gagged as I swallowed gallons of salt water while my head bobbed like a grotesque fishing lure. I saw that the waves were drawing near and if I didn’t act soon it would swallow me in a gulp. It was useless to fight against the force that pulled me towards the monstrous rush, so instinctively, I gave in to it. Just as the wave was about to crash I wrapped my arms around the board and yanked myself towards the tip, holding on for dear life. I found myself ascending and figured I was caught in the wave. My arms went completely numb and my legs trembled as thick streams of saltwater back-handed my face.

I kept my eyes sealed shut and my head glued to the board. At this point I couldn’t feel any of my muscles and I could tell the board was losing stability as the wave rolled into a heavy crash.

I figured if I stayed there any longer the wave would take me hard against the ocean floor, so I steadily began to lift myself off the board as I felt my legs one second away from snapping like twigs. My stomach did flips as I slowly got on my hands and knees on the board. The wave grew shakier and a thud slammed my face against the board, cutting open a slit above my eye.

I steadied myself once again, blood dripping on my board. I raised the tips of my feet and dug my toes in. I was now at the very peak of the wave and could see myself nearing the shore, so I had to calculate this perfectly. The tips of the wave began to break and it was a matter of time before it crashed. It grew closer and closer. The white salty mist began to catch up with me and I waited until the last second to act. I gritted my teeth. Straining my forearms with all my might I quickly repelled myself from the board standing in a somewhat crouched position. I tried my best to maintain my balance on the board. The wave abruptly plunged down on me. I waited, waited. Now!

Just as it was about to crash me into the ocean floor I bent my legs, and in one last effort, leapt sideways free falling under it as my board shot up like a torpedo. I plunged underwater breaking the impact of my fall. Under the water, I began to lose sight of the impact of the crash and dared to look back. Immediate regret.

About twenty feet back at the center of the whirlpool was the form of what seemed to be a forty-foot-long squid-like creature. As I tried to make out what it was, a huge scaly tentacle gnashed at me but I was out of reach. The wave rolled over me and I was rag dolled into millions of flips towards shore.

Soon everything was white.