A Constant Tug

A Constant Tug

I’ve always had this rope tied around me; everyone else has one too. Some people think that the rope restricts us, but I have always had plenty of slack on mine and ample freedom to go all the way up to my knees in the ocean. Every once and awhile I see some little kid swimming, but that’s pretty rare. Most people can stand or sit on the beach, just a few feet away from the water’s edge. My parents and all the other adults cannot though. They can only get to a few streets away from the ocean, and occasionally ask me to tell them about it so they do not forget what it was like. I often wonder why their rope is shorter than mine or the other kids, but they don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s just the way things are.

Today was like any other day, except that it was my 18th birthday. I woke up and went to walk down by the ocean, but came up short of the water. No matter how I pulled against my rope, I could go no further. Puzzled, but realizing I was late for class, I hurriedly walked along the edge of the beach. As I get to school, my best friend Xavier greets me with a big hug and yells, “Happy Birthday Bro!!” I chuckle and shake him off me. “C’mon X, were already ten minutes late.” As we go about our day, I receive many more congratulatory exclamations and hugs. But what I was really focused on were the stories others told of not reaching the water themselves. As the day ended, I took my time walking back home, contemplating this new development in my life.

My parents were waiting for me outside the house, their ropes taut and seeming to pull them inland, further away from the ocean that we all could no longer reach. I was beginning to worry, questions racing through my mind. “Alex, thank god you’re home,” my mother exclaimed, “I didn’t know how much time your father and I had left here.” She almost seemed as if out of breath. My father put his hand on my shoulder, “Son, there are things that we weren’t able to tell you and do with you, but I want you to know how much your mother and I love you.” “What are you saying?” I quietly asked, dreading their response. “What’s happening to you guys, what’s happening to me?” They looked reluctant to tell me anything, which was weird since they seemed to also want to tell me everything at the same time. “Your father and I are moving on to the next stage of our life, Further inland.” I was very confused by this. “Inland? How come I didn’t know about anything past the fence?” My mother only shook her head, “It’s just the way of the world honey, We don’t know what awaits us, but could it really be that bad?” I can tell by the way they are standing and the determined looks on their faces that the ropes are tugging, it’s getting hard to resist the pull, I am so confused, why have I never heard of this? I can see the effort it’s taking to resist and don’t want my parents to be in pain. It’s obvious that they will have to leave and soon. I quickly hug both of them, desperate to remember their faces in case I never see them again. “I love you, I will be okay.” I don't want them to worry about me, they have enough uncertainty ahead of them. My parents look both sad and hopeful at the same time as they turn around and let their ropes guide them off into the unknown. Shocked, I just sit down on the grass and wonder when the tears will come.

························

That whole day flashes before my eyes as I am 38 now and it has been a long time since I was able to reach the beach. I am ready for whatever awaits me on the other side of the fence and further inland. I can feel my rope tugging at me, pulling me towards what I can only guess is a center or a final destination.

Walking... I feel like I am walking forever. For days I pass nothing but open fields of grass. Where are all the people? Sometime in the middle of the third day of walking, I see buildings in the distance and quicken my pace. As I reach the buildings I can see people all around and my rope begins to slacken. I’m finally here, wherever and whatever here is. A figure begins to walk towards me and I am amazed by what I am seeing. “X! I’ve missed you!. How’d you know I was coming today?” “Hahaha, I just had a feeling. And I’ve got an extra room in my apartment just for you, so I really had to be here for your arrival.” As he leads me to his apartment, he tells me that my parents left me a note and were able to give it to him as they left. I walk into the apartment and see the letter on the table addressed to me.

Dearest Alex,

Your father and I hope this letter finds you well and with plenty of slack to explore the city. We have had a lovely time here, but were not able to stay until you arrived. We have moved onto the next portion of our lives, but do not worry yourself about us, you are in the prime of your life, go and enjoy yourself. Make new friends, but always remember how much we love you. Don’t be too reckless, and make sure you exercise every day. Ok, I’ll stop nagging you now. Until we meet again,

Mom and Dad

I am saddened by my inability to actually see them, but this letter makes me feel much closer to my parents than I have in a long time, and for that I am very grateful. Putting the letter aside, I sat down and planned out the rest of my day with Xavier, eager and ready to explore this new world I had just inhabited.

························

It’s been quite a few years now, I am coming to the realization that every year my rope tightens a little more and my freedom to explore the city is slowly diminishing. I had to switch apartments and now live much closer to the heart of the city. I don’t really mind it that much, although I did enjoy walks around the perimeter and being able to look out into the vast emptiness that surrounds us. Luckily, Xavier is still here with me but most of our other friends have moved on. Now, we spend most of our days hanging out in our apartment or meeting the newcomers and showing them a good time. This one girl has really caught my eye, but I really don't want to start anything with her because I feel like I am going to be moving on soon. So I hang with her and have fun, but silently long for more. Unfortunately, Xavier had to move on when he turned 53. I know that I will be following soon, but for now I am left alone with just the newcomers.

························

I’m 55 now, and just like when I was 38, I can feel the urgent and insistent pull of my rope. I am once again ready to move on with my life. To catch back up with Xavier. So I just started walking, letting my rope guide me to my next destination. Wondering if this would be my last stop.

The walk was much shorter this time around, taking maybe a little over a day. But to my surprise, instead of vast open fields of nothing, I found myself walking through a dense forest of humongous trees. I feel my insignificance amplified as I walk through, and am constantly in awe of their grandeur. Soon I began to hear a faint sound in the wind. A slow, comforting tune that I had never heard before. It grew louder and louder as the day wore on. Eventually, as I approached the end of the forest, I could see that instead of a city, this was more of a small town, with only two or three story buildings. The whole place is quiet, and relaxing. It reminds me of the beach and the ocean, and nostalgia fills my mind. It just felt right. With the music swirling around me like a nice warm blanket, I immediately went looking for Xavier, suspecting that my parents had already moved on. Seeing as the town was rather small, it only took me around an hour to find him. Delighted to see me, he quickly led me to the main building and helped me look up my cottage. As soon as I arrived, I scoured every inch looking for a letter, or anything really that my parents might have left for me. Nothing. I was disheartened by this, but I knew that they must have been unable to for some reason.

As I settled into my new surroundings and mapped the town out in my head, I couldn’t help but feel that I would not want to leave this place. Even the music, which had no real beginning or end, was just soft enough to not take precedence over other activities, but also just loud enough to always be there if you want to listen. It was quite possibly the most interesting and most taken for granted part of my life at this point. I think it had a great effect on my ability to just enjoy myself and relax. I had never felt so at peace in my life and couldn’t imagine any extra part of my life that I needed to migrate to. But I eventually put that out of my mind, deciding to take the full extent of what I had at my disposal for as long as I could.

My days were spent relaxing and chatting with Xavier. He introduced me to his friends and his girlfriend Amber, who reminded me of the girl I had longed for while in the city. I also made some of my own friends, although the best part of my time in the town was when I was with Rebecca. I fell oh so very hard for her, and thankfully she returned my emotions with vigour. From then on we moved in together and lived a quiet, peaceful life.

This was the first place that I encountered death. Up until now, people had just moved on, but here, about half of the population dies before their rope begins to tug again. It felt right, to meet my end in this calm, peaceful place, and I was ready for it when my time came. Eventually, Xavier passed, and we set him on a board with wheels, covered in a shroud as he was pulled off into the distance by his rope. And then Rebecca passed, and I cried as we did the same for her. But I lived on.

························

Here I am, 90, and being pulled by my rope. I had really thought that I might be in my final place, that I might die here, but yet again I must move. Slowly walking with my rope guiding me once again, the music begins to fade as I get further and further away. I can barely stand to leave it. As it slowly fades to nothing, all I can hear is a vast emptiness. I sense a finality to this transition, almost as if I am walking to my death. This is my final relocation, I know it in my bones that I do not have much time left on this earth and am both curious and frightened to see what the final destination is,

As I’m walking, I start to remember the ocean for the first time in quite a few years, and find myself wanting to turn around and run to it, jump into it, let it wash over my feet and lower legs, feel the breeze on my face. But I know that that is impossible. And that makes me sad. I try to focus on the possibilities that await me in my final location, and after a little while the memory of the ocean dissipates into the recesses of my mind.

Maybe it’s just because I am old and frail, but the walk this time seems to be the longest, and by the end of the fourth day I feel as if I am going to die before I get to where I’m going. Maybe that is the point, maybe I should have died already like most of my friends. The land that I pass by is desolate and empty. Everything is grey and cold. I do not like this journey. But as the sun rises on my fifth day of walking, I am able to see this gigantic pole soaring hundreds, maybe thousands of feet in the air. A giant pole? Maybe my rope is attached to it, maybe that is my final destination. Fascinated, I quicken my pace as much as I can. But as I get closer and closer, the air starts to reek. I am frightened, but all I can do is continue walking as my rope has not let up and I do not want to be dragged. The stench keeps getting stronger. On the seventh day, I see all of the bodies. Endless piles of dead or dying people, all on top of each other and squished together by their ropes. And beneath them I can see the skeletons of those who died here long before now. What is this hell? What have we done to deserve this? I quake in fear as I am pulled ever closer to the others. Closer and closer, I can see the fear in their eyes and know that it is echoed in mine. It is not long before I am touching them all, unable to move anything but my arms, almost suffocating in the smell. Why am I not dead yet? Why won’t I die? I cannot escape the horrors of this place, not even for a minute. The wails of the dying and the stench of those already gone keep me awake. I am unable to escape as I am slowly crushed into the swirling mass of bodies, hoping death will come and take me.