wave of emotion as I realized that Gran would never again chide me for being down there in the cove by myself. We were cheated out of time like a gambler cheated at cards.
Leaving the house, I walked to the top of the steps and looked down. The way was burned into my brain. Grandda had built those steps years ago when he came home to find his new bride trying to scale down the cliffs with a rope. She’d wanted to swim in the sea and that was the most efficient way to get down to it.
Suddenly I knew where I wanted to go. Running easily back into the house, I set my list on the table and grabbed my jacket and a flashlight, shutting the doors after me. I pulled my hood over my head to keep the rain and the cool night air at bay and jogged to the end of the grassy lawn.
The steps weren’t in the best conditionand I exercised cautionon the weathered, rickety wood that was slippery from the harsh, salty sea air. After a few near falls, I made it to the bottom, my feet crunching on the small rocks.
The cove was exactly as I’d remembered. Though nearly covered with water, I could clearly see the rocks on the pebble-covered beach as the tide receded. Using my flashlight, I navigated carefully on the wet stones, not wishing to stray far from the stairs that led back to the house. There was a large boulder on the pebbled beach, the same one I remembered from my youth. Carefully, I climbed atop it and wrapped my arms around my legs.
I was completely isolated, and had to admit that I was afraid of the aloneness. Yet I felt a need to prove to myself that I could live on my own, that I was man enough. That was exactly what drove me—the need to battle total solitude and win.
Only moments after sitting down, however, I became conscious of water running down my face. Initially I blamed the rain but realized, with some degree of mortification, that I was crying. The wind started to pick up as the tide rose, and I realized that I was fairly close to being stranded on this rock by the incoming sea. The rock’s jagged exterior scraped against my arm as I climbed down. The rough water teased with pulling me under, but I ran straight to the stairs. I’d only reached the first step when something compelled me to turn around.
Following the instinct, I glanced back, and my heartbeat increased as I realized that I wasn’t alone. There was someone standing on the perimeter, outside of my range of focus, but I was afraid to look.
Less hesitant during the return trip, I took the steps two at a time, falling twice in the process.
When I got to the top, I glanced back toward the foot of the staircase. Despite my sense of unease, it appeared as though I was alone. Turning, I ran across the lawn to the cottage, pleased to reach the safety of the house. Heat started to fill the space and it was homey, so normal. Then I remembered that I was the only one there, and any illusion of a home instantly disappeared.
Once the warmth began to permeate my skin, I realized that I was soaking wet; the rain had changed from a light drizzle to a heavy downpour without my noticing. Shaking my head, I removed my wet things in the conservatory, hanging them up on a small line in the corner.
The darkness outside intrigued me, and my gaze kept being drawn to the windows again and again. There was something out there, though I couldn’t name it. Glancing into the darkness once again, I started as a form began to take the shape of a woman. Some part of me responded, urged me to leave the house, to see who—
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Talking to oneself was never a good sign. Without waiting to see if I was right, I turned abruptly and entered the main part of the house, shutting the door behind me, and headed straight for the shower.
When I looked out the window again after my shower, there was no sign of the girl, but I did see a dog sitting at attention on the back lawn. It was in reach of the backyard light that I’d left on. Did the neighbors have
Leaving the house, I walked to the top of the steps and looked down. The way was burned into my brain. Grandda had built those steps years ago when he came home to find his new bride trying to scale down the cliffs with a rope. She’d wanted to swim in the sea and that was the most efficient way to get down to it.
Suddenly I knew where I wanted to go. Running easily back into the house, I set my list on the table and grabbed my jacket and a flashlight, shutting the doors after me. I pulled my hood over my head to keep the rain and the cool night air at bay and jogged to the end of the grassy lawn.
The steps weren’t in the best conditionand I exercised cautionon the weathered, rickety wood that was slippery from the harsh, salty sea air. After a few near falls, I made it to the bottom, my feet crunching on the small rocks.
The cove was exactly as I’d remembered. Though nearly covered with water, I could clearly see the rocks on the pebble-covered beach as the tide receded. Using my flashlight, I navigated carefully on the wet stones, not wishing to stray far from the stairs that led back to the house. There was a large boulder on the pebbled beach, the same one I remembered from my youth. Carefully, I climbed atop it and wrapped my arms around my legs.
I was completely isolated, and had to admit that I was afraid of the aloneness. Yet I felt a need to prove to myself that I could live on my own, that I was man enough. That was exactly what drove me—the need to battle total solitude and win.
Only moments after sitting down, however, I became conscious of water running down my face. Initially I blamed the rain but realized, with some degree of mortification, that I was crying. The wind started to pick up as the tide rose, and I realized that I was fairly close to being stranded on this rock by the incoming sea. The rock’s jagged exterior scraped against my arm as I climbed down. The rough water teased with pulling me under, but I ran straight to the stairs. I’d only reached the first step when something compelled me to turn around.
Following the instinct, I glanced back, and my heartbeat increased as I realized that I wasn’t alone. There was someone standing on the perimeter, outside of my range of focus, but I was afraid to look.
Less hesitant during the return trip, I took the steps two at a time, falling twice in the process.
When I got to the top, I glanced back toward the foot of the staircase. Despite my sense of unease, it appeared as though I was alone. Turning, I ran across the lawn to the cottage, pleased to reach the safety of the house. Heat started to fill the space and it was homey, so normal. Then I remembered that I was the only one there, and any illusion of a home instantly disappeared.
Once the warmth began to permeate my skin, I realized that I was soaking wet; the rain had changed from a light drizzle to a heavy downpour without my noticing. Shaking my head, I removed my wet things in the conservatory, hanging them up on a small line in the corner.
The darkness outside intrigued me, and my gaze kept being drawn to the windows again and again. There was something out there, though I couldn’t name it. Glancing into the darkness once again, I started as a form began to take the shape of a woman. Some part of me responded, urged me to leave the house, to see who—
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Talking to oneself was never a good sign. Without waiting to see if I was right, I turned abruptly and entered the main part of the house, shutting the door behind me, and headed straight for the shower.
When I looked out the window again after my shower, there was no sign of the girl, but I did see a dog sitting at attention on the back lawn. It was in reach of the backyard light that I’d left on. Did the neighbors have
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