Bad Sun Rising

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            “Got you,” Delaney sighed with relief. Grinning to herself, she watched the dying struggles of the fish on her spear. Although her pants were rolled halfway up her legs, they were still wet around her knees. Her fishing trip successful, she put the fish in her bucket and headed down a narrow path of dark brown sand, and pointed grey rocks that stretched out like tiny teeth along the ocean’s edge. On her other side was a flat faced cliff that rose higher than her neck could bend to see. To herself, Delaney hummed a tune from the time before she was washed onto the cold beaches of paradise. Few things she kept with her from the time before, but this tune was one of those things she carried with her. It was something that was as natural within her as breathing.

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            A terrible thwack and subsequent grumble across the sky made Delaney stumble. Peering across the blueish-grey waters, she saw dark, angry clouds rushing towards her. The word no flashed through her mind, and her heart turned into a little hummingbird. It beat as fast as a hummingbird’s wing, and she was positive if the beating slowed down, she might die. If her legs weren’t moving just as quick as her heartbeat, she was certain death awaited her. Despite these certainties, a little smile crossed her lips as she bolted for safer sands. As soon as Delaney started sprinting, hard and long raindrops pelted her like tiny spears, rows and rows of furious projectiles trying to pin her to the earth as a sacrifice for the tempest heading her way. Now Delaney dropped her prey, the bucket and the fish within it reclaimed by the water. The waves were rushing up the short beach and lapping at her ankles. A greater wave dived for her, pinning her to the bluffs as it washed over her skin. As the ocean swelled and swooshed again, Delaney crawled to her feet.

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           Beyond her narrow, rocky path was a bigger beach, one free from the bluffs that would lead her into the safety of the trees. Within sight of her shoes, Delaney knew that her sanctuary was close. Already, she could hear Logan’s lecture about fishing so far away from their safe cove. Although he would be hard and stern, the admonishment came from a place of fear that was stoked by how much he cared for her. His brother, Marty, would play the comforting big brother, and the calm leader who told Logan to knock it off when he thought Delaney was lectured enough. Lea would dry her hair by the warmth and safety of the fire, and Blanche would wrap a blanket around her. First, Huey would look at her with those wide bug eyes that made him look seven all over again. Even though it was hard to imagine her little brother as the young adult he was, the look would disappear, and he would tease Delaney about what a hypocrite she was. This would continue, until she threatened to expose his real, full name, the middle one included.

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           Although she heard a large swoosh, Delaney made a leap for her shoes and for the safety of her little cove with the people who constituted her kin. Water fell hard around her, catching her with the same attitude in which she caught her fish. At first it mocked her, haha, I got you, kiddie. Then it softly carried her off, once a trophy, now a treasured child of the see. Sh, kiddie, sleep.

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           At first, Scott Lucas cursed the gathering storm. On the weekends, he took a route little known by even local fisherman, where the bounty was a little more bountiful and a little more willing to bite. Although this was one of his special fishing places, the storm forced him a little further along than he wanted to go, seeking the safety of tiny, nearby islands. Lucky enough, the storm stayed in the distance, cutting him off from home, but seeming to pass by without coming over the cove. Knowing he couldn’t make it through the storm to get back, he was forced to stay put. At first, he cursed the storm, but then his eye casually scanned the serene beach. As he scanned back down the other way, his eyes rested on what he first thought was a log. Scott cursed again, but this time it wasn’t for the storm. Steering his boat toward land, he hauled it up the beach until it was stuck firmly aground. Flipping the half-dead girl onto her back, he desperately tried to wake her. 

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           Delaney’s breath was slow and shallow. Even tucked into the sand, she felt the lull of the ocean surrounding her. When she felt herself rolled onto her back, Delaney’s hands wrapped around her bed of sand, shells and reeds, grasping them as if they were rattles. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a voice, and it prickled along her shoulder blades and down her spine. It wasn’t a voice she recognized, but the lulling of the ocean hushed her back into a deep sleep.

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           Shaking her shoulders, Scott tried to get the girl to open her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered once, and then closed again, no matter how much Scott shook or yelled for her to wake.