An unlikely warning

An Unlikely warning.

Angels do not always have wings

The soft white sand seemed to go on forever, the sea to my left so blue and calm, while to my right the trees and shrubs looked so green. The wind was so light nothing moved. I had slipped off my shoes to feel the warm dry sand between my toes as I walked so slow along the heavenly shore. The sun was fresh risen from that endless sea, still cool enough for skin and head. I was wearing just my beach shorts and carrying my sandals. This was paradise on earth, a tiny tropical island with no commercial development, in fact no development at all since no one lived here. The island had only rainfall to feed its lush plant growth, a few indigenous fishermen had landed their canoes here at odd times over the years but never settled, never claimed it as belonging to anyone. My sailing yacht was moored in a tiny bay, which was now on the other side of the island. I could walk round it in an hour if I did not dawdle and keep looking at shells or plants. Cutting across the interior was no problem, just tall grass, palm and coconut trees and the occasional thicket of thorn bush. No animals had settled here, the birdlife was seaborn, and transient, no cliffs to nest on but no predators either. I am 55 years old retired with money stashed away in various banks around the world, I keep it that was as a hedge against any particular currency collapsing and to make it harder for anyone, especially the taxation authorities, to know just how much I am worth. To tell the truth I am not sure myself, but I do not care. I have no family, never married, not know of any children I have sired. No responsibilities or cares, I drift around the warmer and more pleasant seas, in my own little ocean-going bubble.

As I strolled along the seashore, I became aware of a sound that was not wind or surf, singing, and sounds like a child doing it. I scanned the sea but saw no sign of a boat. I quickened my pace and walked directly towards the sound. Just on the edge of the beach, under a palm tree sat a child, I could only guess at the age, about six was my thought. She did not see me, and I could not see any other people, no family, no one. I got to within twenty-five yards and called out “Hello there” She turned towards my voice but even at this distance I could see that she was blind, sightless eyes followed my movement, but she showed no sign of being afraid. As I got closer, she called back to me “hello have you come to find me?” I stopped and looked around again, no one, no sign of a boat coming to the beach, no footsteps in the sand no evidence of any other people. I was puzzled about what to say but as I got near to her, I managed to mumble something about not being sure if I was meant to find her or not. I sat beside her, without getting close enough to touch, I figured this was a not threatening distance. She turned to me as I sat and smiled, now that I was closer, I could see that the face was older than six years, but the body, wrapped in a white, all enveloping shawl, was only about the size of a young child. “If you are not looking for me, why are you here?” She asked. I was some way out of my comfort zone, being on a deserted island talking to a child, who had an adult face, and who appeared to have dropped from the sky, all I could reply with was, “I am just enjoying a walk on the beach when I heard you singing.” “ Did you like it?” “Yes, you sing so sweetly” This situation and conversation was unusual, in my personal experience, to say the very least. I asked if she was alone, she seemed puzzled by the question, as if being alone was a condition she had never thought about before, then replied that like me, she had come to this place alone but did not develop this into any explanation. I probed a little more, asking where she had come from, but again she seemed to either not understand my question or was deliberately evasive with her reply. I was out of my depth socially and had very little experience talking to children, if that what she was and I was having doubts since her voice was not that of a child, like her face, it seemed older than her body. I asked if she was expecting to meet someone here and was shocked by her reply, ”only you.” I sat in stunned silence for a while, was I dreaming? was all this some fantasy generated in my own mind? At last I asked how she came to be expecting me to come along this beach at this time. She smiled and said, “because it is written, how else would I know?” I stood and looked around, half expecting some practical joker with a camera to leap out at me. But there was only the sand the sea, the trees and the grass. I could not see any sign that she had food or water with her, in fact no belongings at all. I suggested I go to my boat and get us something to drink, I must admit the idea of getting abord and sailing away, also crossed my mind. She stood up and said she was coming with me to my boat, she turned and started walking across the grass directly towards the bay I was anchored in. She walked confidently and in the right direction. I was now seriously spooked; how did she know the right direction? and how can a blind person walk in untamed and tangled grass so confidently? We walked in silence across the island and stopped at the beach opposite my yacht, my dinghy was still as I left it pulled up on the sand. I asked if she wanted to come to my boat, but she said she would wait for me to return with a drink, she asked me to bring a bowl as well as the water and glasses. When I returned she had flattened a circle of sand and sat in the middle of this I offered her the bowl and the bottle of water, again it was uncanny she reached and took hold of both without any hesitation, as if fully sighted. She placed the bowl in front of her and poured water into it, she did not drink. She asked me to sit opposite her and look into the bowl. I have no idea why but I did as she asked and then almost fell backwards with shock. What I saw was not a bowl with clear water in it but a bubbling cauldron of fire and smoke. I forced myself to stillness and kept looking, the smoke cleared, the fire died down, and I saw clouds in a blue sky and I saw my own yacht drifting peacefully, then suddenly the sea rose up, the sky changed to black and violent wind picked up my vessel and threw it down again breaking it apart. I stared at this for a time, I felt myself in a trance then I felt an overwhelming tiredness and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, I was alone sitting on a deserted beach, there was no blind girl, there was no bowl of water there were no footprints in the sand no circle of smoothed sand, nothing. If I had been in my bunk, I would have thought all of this was a dream, but I was on the beach, my dingy was drawn up only a few feet away. I returned to my boat and checked all the weather forecasts, all peaceful but the feelings that came when I was looking into the bowl, stayed with me. I checked again the satellite images and saw that five hundred miles away there was a weather system starting to form, as yet no hurricane warnings were posted but I felt I had been warned. I knew I had time several days before anything reached me, but the nearest protected landfall was ten days Sail away.

I Prepared for a storm, I sailed round to the opposite side of the island, lashing down everything that could come loose, battening, and securing all doors and portholes. I lengthened the anchor rope and put out sea anchors. If the waves became huge, she could ride the swell and fall, while still not being swept away. I took my emergency distress radio, bottles of water and tins of food and went ashore. I found the highest point I could, and I dug myself a shelter close to the roots of the palm trees and dug as deep as I could, after 3 days I had a decent shelter, my fear was that if the waves were to be so large that they would swamp the whole island, then I would be drowned in my pit. But then if I try to sail, I would be wrecked and probably drowned anyway. That night the storm hit, I got a radio message three hours before to warn me, not that this would have helped if I had been two days out from any safe haven. The eye of the hurricane passed about twenty miles west of the island and so I got lucky both my yacht and I survived, wet, battered, but survived. All thanks to an angel with no wings.