Adrift

The note first appeared on May 15, 1996. I remember this precisely because it was graduation day. I hadn't had any grand plans like some of the others. I would work at the docks without complaining like my dad did and come home to take care of my nana as he did with papa. Times like this made me wonder how life would be different if he were still around. Or if my mother had stuck around past my 3rd birthday. But that way of thinking is what turns you sour, and I learned early on that fairytales were just that; made-up stories meant to make the travesties of life easier to cope with. I much prefer my truth al a carte. The bitter taste of knowing hits you hard and all at once, but it ebbs just as fast.

To be honest, I didn't mind my time at the docks. Always felt that I could stay on the water forever. It was the only place that I could go where every man was the same. Credentials didn't matter, and you're better off leaving any inclinations of pride at the pier. The only thing that would ever set one man apart from the other was your family name, but even then, it seemed better to be a part of the unknown ranks. Then no one could set expectations on you by proxy. That was the other thing, though: whether you were fresh meat or seasoned cod, we were all expected to be men here.

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I started finding solace at the end of brown-tinted bottles once she began forgetting my name. It all hit hard, fast, then all at once. Beer was the only thing that seemed to distract me from the ache. Times like this made me understand my father more. These days, I felt closer to him than I ever had before. It had been seven years since the note first appeared on the dash of my car. It was easy to ignore while taking care of nana and working all the moments between that and sleep. But even when I slept, I dreamt of the green light. I was only halfway to thirty, but my time at the docks made me age in an expedited kind of way. It was as if everyone was in the fast lane, with a one-way ticket towards death.

Women didn't come to the docks, except for the one dressed in all black. Every time I saw her face, it meant another widowed wife, another daughter without her father, another mother praying for a son that would never return. Over the years, I watched her take many men, my father and papa included. That's how I knew he was gone for good. My nana tried telling me that he would be back soon. She spoke to me about God that night and how He would guide them both home. I could believe it for my papa, but we both knew my dad was no favorite of God.

Later that evening, once my nana fell asleep, I snuck down to the docks in the cover of night. Though she wore a veil, she found a way to peer into my soul with an intensity that cut deeper than knives. She was gone as quick as she came, but from that moment on, I always knew when she was near. The air went thick, with a stillness that made you have to remind yourself to breathe. That was the first time I saw her, and the green light beyond the horizon came the following night. Oddly enough, I never once questioned my sanity. But I did often wonder if the other men saw her too.

I waited for her when my nana passed, but she never came. Then again, when a stroke took the older man across the way, but after hours went by with no sign of the woman in black, I assumed the old man met a different fate. I quickly realized that anytime a baby was born into our small world on the coast, another life was sure to follow behind. The world’s natural wheel of fortune, a balancing of the scales. Though I never sensed her presence when there was a body left behind to be buried or burned. It seemed she only took the souls of those who succumbed to the sea.

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At first, it was a night no more special than all of the others. Most men would hurry home to their families after work or to the bar to claim a seat until closing. Even though I was only twenty-five now, making me one of the youngest men here, I had no family to go to, and I never cared for drunken sports brawls much. I spent almost every night down at the landing with the company of a six-pack, peering into the light.

Something came over me that night, and I reached into my wallet and located what was now the crumbled and tattered note that I received seven years ago. It both intrigued and haunted me for too many years now. And If there were ever a time to do something about it, it was now.

"Meet me past the green light when you're ready."

It had no signage, though there had always been something familiar about it. I could never quite place it, but it didn't matter anymore. I was no longer interested in weighing the stakes in my head, and now that nana was gone, I had nothing left to lose. Or rather, I could now afford to be lost.

I made my way to the corner store just before the pier. I hurried to the fridges for my usual 6-pack, grabbing some hand warmers on my way back. It wasn’t particularly cold that night and the wind was calm, but the weather had a mind of its own on the water.

"Those waters are sharp tonight.," said an unfamiliar voice as I mindlessly set my things down on the counter. I was deeply distracted in my thoughts, and the shrillness of the woman’s voice jerked my head up to attention. I started to speak, but when I looked up and met her gaze, I realized it wasn't a woman at all. Maybe I was finally losing it.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" I asked the man at the counter, tripping over my words some.

"96 cents. Your change, son." The old man reached out towards me with battered and shaking hands. Most likely scared over from a lifetime down at those same docks I was headed towards. In a way, I was getting a glimpse of my future self.

"Keep it," I said as I looked up once more, flashing a smile that felt more like pity than anything else. The man said nothing else, so I grabbed my things and set off for my boat.

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I didn’t know how long I'd been driving, exactly. The boat's clock went out years ago, and the only other way to track time is by the number of cigarettes smoked. But with the amount of wind whipping my face red, it’s anyone’s guess. The docks behind me were a thing of the dark now, and I would have sworn they never existed if it weren’t for the birds I was still somehow able to hear towards the shore. The light, however, was no longer a light at all. What initially looked like a beacon resting atop a tower was now an aura encompassing the entire sea in front of me. And it could have been the sound of my boat humming as it cut through the waves or the six beers in my belly keeping me warm, but at some point, I fell asleep. I dreamt that the green light sat at the end of the world.

The song of the birds eventually brought me out of my sleep. When I woke up, the sun was beating down on my face. I lay atop a blanket of warm sand, and the swash of the ocean was gently grazing my toes. The grogginess from my sleep was clinging to me like gum to the soles of shoes. Once I finally made it to my feet, I looked around to see that I was on a seemingly untouched island. Though I hadn’t seen much in my life, there was nothing I could compare to its beauty. My dreams weren’t even capable of conjuring anything so luscious and full of life. I hadn’t realized my shoes were missing until I felt my feet sinking into the finely-grained pillow-soft sand. Was I dreaming?

The same entity that possessed me to chase after the green light in the first place must have found me again. Without thinking, I felt myself walking towards the grove of trees situated behind the shore. It was as if my body had disconnected from my brain on a mission only known to my legs. As I drew closer, I saw a figure emerging from the shade of the trees, then another. I continued to move closer, squinting to get a better look, and once I saw, I could not believe my eyes. There, I undeniably saw my father and my papa walking towards me. A series of thoughts flashed in my mind faster than lightning. Had they managed to survive? They sent me the note, but how? And why do they appear to have not aged a day? I had to be dreaming.

I squeezed my eyes so tight I saw stars, and when I opened them up again, my dad and papa were now right in front of me. I turned to look for the boat that I’d arrived on. If they were alive, then we could all go back home. My father and grandfather were now at my sides, with arms outstretched, ready to catch me as the realization brought me down to my knees. I felt like I should scream or cry, but I knew it to be a lost cause. There at the shore, where I left my boat just moments ago, stood the woman dressed in all black.