The Blowhole he Fell Into

Day 1

Nathan is an idiot and nothing is going to convince me otherwise.

First of all, he made me watch this Netflix movie which he swore was the best thing since frozen yogurt. Then after I complained, he told me my obsessive need to see horror movies or to read horror books is unhealthy.

On that, I strongly beg to differ. Horror movie fans are some of the sanest people on the planet. Or so I have heard in a Youtube video.

And now he is trying to convince me that if you drop things into a blowhole, they always come back.

Like seriously. First and foremost, doesn't he know it is statistically impossible for something of that nature to be true ten out of ten times? The sad part is, I don’t know if this is some theory he has conjured up himself or it’s something he’s heard from his conspiracy-theory-obsessed best friend. Which does kind of beg the question — do you trust a horror fan or a conspiracy nut?

Okay, now I’ve just got to turn off this Netflix movie. George Clooney is talking to a wolf, and he’s lost the girl he’s supposed to be protecting, and this is a sci-fi movie. Go figure.

“What were you saying exactly?” I asked sweetly as I snapped the laptop close.

“The blowhole,” Nathan says earnestly. “If you drop something in it — it always comes back!”

“You do know that if you were a scientist, you can’t make claims without proof right?” I ask him even more sweetly.

“You know what — we are going to test it out right now.”

“Like, right now — right now?” I am completely unenthusiastic about this whole idea.

“Yup.” He bounced to his feet and started hauling me upright too. “Come on Em! Let’s do this!”

“All right, all right,” I grumble as I allow myself to be dragged behind him. The things I have to do for this guy! Lucky he’s cute, and I can let him get away with stuff. It’s also lucky he hasn’t been exposed to my parents — yet. My parents are so insufficient in the humor department they will likely end up sucking Nathan dry of all fun even before he turns thirty.

God that’s a morbid thought. The thought of turning thirty I mean — not Nathan drained of all his humor. I’ll still find ways to get along with him I suppose.

And all the while that we are walking from the university dorm rooms to the rugged, jaggedy bit of beach behind campus, Nathan is going on and on about his last Fortnite game which involved a new war dance he and his virtual buddies have come up with every time one of them scores a point. They literally form a circle and ALL start dancing. Can you believe how cute and nerdy that is?

I may be jumping the gun saying this — but I seriously believe that Nathan is a perfect life-long material kind of guy. Or an alien maybe. Either way, I like him.

And soon we are standing by the lonely blowhole at the end of the jagged rock which is sticking out over the sea. And boy Houdini is about to test his brilliant theory.

“As a scientific test, since you don’t believe in generic claims, I will start by dropping in lighter items,” he proclaims in his best Bill Nye voice.

“Yeah right.” I roll my eyes and start tapping my feet impatiently just to bug him.

“Hey, that’s not really helping,” he says, arms akimbo.

“Jeez” I grumble as I desist.

With a dramatic flair, he pulls out a handkerchief, of all things, from his pocket.

“Wow, did we just jump back a hundred years?” I can’t help quipping sarcastically.

“It’s my dad’s! I stole it, I don’t know why,” he admits, smiling impishly.

“Proceed.” I invite him to carry on with his experiment.

He leans over and listens to the water churning in the blowhole. Once he is convinced the water is ready to blow he drops the handkerchief in the hole, and then we wait. And we wait. And then the water bursts out of the hole about 10 feet high. Nathan gives a jubilant whoop and catches the handkerchief as it’s flying through the air.

Well.

It’s not very impressive if truth be told. It’s only a handkerchief.

“And now, since our first experiment has been successful, we shall proceed with heavier objects,” Nathan proclaims.

“All right, let’s see it,” I tell him, arms crossed. “But this is the last one. Okay? Then I’m heading back to the dorm.”

“Right .” He grins and starts taking his jacket off.

“Seriously? You’re going to throw in your jacket?” I ask skeptically.

“Well yeah, it’s heavier than the handkerchief!”

“Throw in a rock or something,” I insist.

“I have my doubts about the rock, it’s not exactly porous is it?” He finger taps his chin as he thinks over it. “I know, I can jump in myself!”

“What?” I ask in complete disbelief. “Isn’t that like suicidal?”

“Nah, I’m 99% sure there’s no tidal water inside the hole, so I’m pretty sure it’s safe,” he assures me.

I look inside the hole, which seems large enough for Nathan but not exactly spacious. And dark. “Well if you insist,” I agree shrugging my shoulders.

“Well I’m not insisting exactly, but I’m definitely lighter than a rock for sure,” he grins and shrugs casually. He takes his boots off and leans over to listen to the water in the hole.

“All right, see you in a bit!” He takes a huge breath and jumps into that darn hole.

And then I’m waiting. And waiting.

“Hello!” I yell down the hole trying to rouse a response.

Nothing.

I lean over to look inside but it’s pretty dark. I get down on all fours and lean my ear closer to the hole. There is a faint sloshing noise and the sound of something gently bumping about inside. Bet it’s my idiot boyfriend finally realizing that it’s a stupid idea.

Then I hear a sound like a giant plunger at work and I back off remembering how Nathan had done the same. I wait but instead of a giant water explosion, there’s only a sad bit of spray coming from the hole.

And no sign of Nathan.

Again I stalk over to look down the hole and there he is.

Nathan is trapped in the hole, his head stuck at an angle that makes no sense.

That’s when I realize he might be dead and start screaming.

Still Day 1

I’m still on the beach bawling my eyes out.

Lucky I had my cell with me but what use was that?

It took the ambulance about a hundred years to get here. Of course, the fact that I had been hysterical and probably incoherent hadn’t helped. By the time they reached here, I had been half-frozen to death.

I couldn’t look when they were pulling Nathan out of the hole. I only peeked from behind my fingers when they were loading him in the back of the ambulance and I had only caught a glimpse of his hand swinging limply.

Someone had put a shawl around my shoulder but the cold was affecting me in strange ways.

My fingers felt like they were swollen and when I tried to stand up I couldn’t feel my feet. Also, my ears were ringing, but not with the usual dull buzz. I kept hearing rustling leaves of all things. Which was bizarre since there were no trees for miles.

Em.

He had named me after that old lady in that James Bond movie.

Em.

What the hell, why am I thinking about the nickname he had given? Is this like PTSD?

Once I climb into the other ambulance I shake my head hard to make the thoughts and ringing go away. And when the ambulance lady looks at me with concern, I lie and tell her I’m ok.

Day 3

I’m now officially considered as a cuckoo by many.

My parents have begged me to take a break from Uni but I have refused to do that. I’ve also decided I won’t be going to Nat’s funeral which has scandalized everyone in Uni.

And it’s funny but I also keep hearing my name in absolutely random places and at random times. Not my full name, just the name that Nathan calls me by, and consequently everybody in Uni.

Like, take right now for instance. I’m waiting to cross the road at a stoplight and I sure as hell hear the word ‘Em’ being repeated over and over.

I’d like to pretend the sound drifted into my ears in a faint whisper but in actual fact, there’s a man ten feet away yelling at his daughter to come back from where she’s playing with all these dogs tied to the fence. In fact, he might even have called her Emily and I just caught the Em bit?

“God, will you stop with the yelling?” I am looking elsewhere but I speak loudly enough for the man to hear me.

He turns to look at me and asks rudely, “Do I know?”

When I assure him he doesn’t, he tells me to go do something he definitely wouldn’t be telling his dear daughter. How nice. The language in this city just keeps getting better and better.

Not to be outdone I flip him off and then run like hell. Yup, you guessed it right — I’m a huge coward and I feel no shame about it.

That is after all the key to human survival — retreating in the face of danger.

Day 5

I can’t sleep — in fact, I realize that I’m staring into the corner where my desk and chair are kept. It’s kind of odd and I figure that I have to be looking at something that caught my attention. Maybe a mouse? As I wait to see any kind of movement I realize what’s happening and with a gasp, I sit bolt upright in my bed.

It’s the darkness. I mean the general darkness in that corner is coalescing into a person’s outline. And I’ll be darned if it’s not Nathan. That has to be him! Who after all has all the potential in the world to come back and try and haunt me?

“Nathan?” I speak softly.

I mean, he’s a ghost. Surely he can hear me all the way from there.

But there’s no response. Just the outline of a person sitting in my chair. Okay, I need to wake up my roommate — I can’t be the only one experiencing Paranormal Activity Whatever.

“Felicity,” I whisper dramatically.

But of course, my punctual roommate has punctually fallen asleep at 10 with her earphones and a sleep mask on. You know, to stimulate her REM cycles. I lean over and poke her hard in the thigh.

“Ow,” Felicity whine-yells as she props herself on one elbow and rips out her left earphone. “What? What is it?”

“Felicity,” I whisper again. “I think someone’s sitting in that chair over there.”

That gets her attention.

She sits up bolt upright and rips her mask off to stare around the room wildly. Seeing that there’s no real person in the room she turns to give me a death stare and says, “Em. Like what the actual hell.”

“Look!” I point at the chair where the darkness is sitting. “Can’t you see him?”

She looks at the chair for a long moment and tells me in her testiest voice, “There’s literally no one there. What are you talking about?”

I open my mouth to do some more explaining but Felicity is already snapping her earphones and mask on.

“Go back to sleep okay? It’s 3 am and I have a dance rehearsal tomorrow”, she tells me in severe annoyance as she burrows down into her bed and turns her back on me. “And don’t you dare wake me up again,” she throws the words over her shoulder for good measure.

If this were medieval times, I am sure Felicity would have been.…actually I’m not sure at all what type of person she would have been.

But seriously, does that girl have no imagination at all? Or maybe she’s out of touch with the spiritual self? I wouldn’t be surprised. Felicity already has the emotional range of an alligator.

Dubiously I look back into the corner where I can still see Nathan’s dark form sitting. Is this really happening or am I losing my mind?

1 Month Later

“Mom I think I’m turning into Emily Rose. You know — that girl in the Exorcism movie?”

My eyes are itchy and I feel light-headed. It’s been going on for weeks now. Hearing my name everywhere and seeing Nathan sitting in my chair beside my desk.

It was totally thrilling in the beginning — it felt like I’m part of a movie and all the cameras are hidden. But Nathan never talks back to me. I keep trying and trying. It’s finally starting to depress me.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I hear my mom’s clipped tone all the way through my cellphone. “You’re just going through post-traumatic stress disorder. It’s perfectly normal.”

“I keep seeing him mom, but he never talks back to me.”

“Emma, you’re going to stop this nonsense right now. I know you’ve been through a lot, but you do not have schizophrenia. There’s no history of it in either my family or dad’s.”

“But — ”

“You know you might think a little more about your older sister than think about yourself all the time. Did you even call to check how she is doing after her delivery? Do you even know what the baby’s name is?”

“Yeah, sorry I’ve just been a little distracted since my boyfriend died,” I reply putting as much sarcasm as I can muster up into my voice. God my mom knows how to drive me nuts.

There is a long silence before my mom replies. “You know I’m going to pretend we just had a nice chat and I’m going to let you go. Call me back when you are feeling less dramatic.”

“Fine. Bye,” I savagely punch the close call button.

It’s not the same as slamming down a phone receiver and I’m still fuming. So I kick the cabinet beside my bed and somehow it just ends up making me angrier.

3 Months Later

It’s been a few months now and I’ve had it up till here with all that’s going on.

My parents think I’m batshit crazy and keep begging me to drop Uni for this year. Felicity, bless her blind soul, still can’t see Nathan though he is there literally every night sitting in the same chair.

Not talking, not doing anything but just sitting there. Before he died I couldn’t get him to shut up. And now that he’s dead I can’t seem to get a peep out of him.

My grades have died a mercurial death. It’s also an effort to keep reminding myself to eat and sleep. And I only take a bath to stop Felicity from threatening me with the dorm matron and expulsion. God, I can’t do that — I’ll never get to see Nathan again!

The poor guy. Why the hell did I let him jump into that stupid blowhole? We could have shifted into the same apartment. We could have had an awesome gap year traveling abroad! Travelling was definitely something that had been instrumental in drawing us together. Marriage is a little extreme, but I’m sure we would have figured a way to live together without killing each other for the rest of our lives.

These days I’m always feeling tired, but today I’m feeling determined.

Because I am going to do something different. I’m going to try to exorcise Nathan’s ghost. Not in the horrific Conjuring manner. The poor guy deserves better than that.

I’m just going to go back to the blowhole and — see if anything different happens?

Same Day, Evening

It’s a nice balmy evening. The sky is a dark velvety blue studded with stars and I am making my way across the rugged rocks to the blowhole

Don’t ask me why I picked this time. I’m not trying to be dramatic or anything but at least no one’s going to see me do something that is essentially private business.

I’m not an expert on this at all. In fact, I’ve never dreamt I would be one of those people doing an exorcism of all things. But the least I can do is talk things out — even though I’ll be talking to a ghost I’m not 100% sure that I’m seeing.

I pause at the edge of the blowhole before I take a deep breath and peer inside it. There’s only darkness in there and the distant sound of water gurgling inside it.

“Nathan” I yell down the blowhole. “Stop bloody haunting me! I’m tired all the time, my life’s a mess and I really need to sleep!”

I wait to see if I can hear anything in response — nothing.

“Nathan!” I yell a bit louder just to be sure. “Stop haunting me ok?”

Satisfied I have done my best I turn to leave but I stop after a few steps to listen. Is that the rustling of leaves that I’m hearing? But there are no trees on this beach. It’s just barren rocky land.

I realize the noise is coming from inside the blowhole. OMG. I’m frozen with fear. And then I start hearing the whispering.

“Em…..Emma…..help me…..”

Holy McDonalds. This is getting out of hand.

But, I console myself, at least I wasn’t imagining it — Nathan is seriously out there as a ghost! I cautiously go over to the edge of the blowhole and look inside. Still nothing!

“Nat — what — “ I’m fumbling with my words not sure what to say.

Oh no, oh no, I’m going in my head. He can’t possibly still be stuck inside.

“Em….it’s cold….so cold…..I can’t stand it…..”

And that’s when I burst into tears. “I’m sorry Nathan, it’s all my fault! I should never have let you jump! I’m so sorry Nathan, you don’t know how much I miss you!” And I sit there blubbering like a baby.

There’s silence from the blowhole. Then the whispering starts again but it’s a whole lot less dramatic.

“Em,” the bodiless voice whispers. “I’m pulling your legs. I’m not cold at all.”

“You’re not?” I sniffle. “How come you can talk now? You never talk back in my room.”

“I thought I’d do the ghost thing properly,” he whispered back.

“That’s not nice,” I tell him disgruntled. “I almost became Emily Rose.”

Then feeling a bit solicitous I ask, “Do you like being a ghost?”

“Sure do,” he whispers. “And you know what the best part is?”

“What?” I ask dutifully, scrubbing my eyes.

In response, a small rock near my feet goes skittering across the ground.

20 Years Later

It’s the morning rush hour and I’m in a grocery store buying a sandwich for my lunch break. And behind my back in the tiny aisle, a can of soup falls off the rack with a loud thunk.

“What the fuck Nathan, it’s 8 in the bloody morning!”

As I turn around to pick up the can I catch sight of a little old lady looking at me with popping eyes.

“I swear I’m not crazy,” I hold up my hand defensively. “It’s my boyfriend, he’s been driving me crazy for years.”

Now her mouth drops in fright and she shambles off as quickly as her walking support would let her.

I keep my mouth shut till I’ve paid for my sandwich and I’m sitting in my car.

“Listen you can play your little jokes, but not this early in the morning, ok? I swear I’m not even fully awake yet.”

In reply, I hear a faint chuckle and the tiny plastic hula girl on my dashboard starts dancing.