Surface Lure

Surface Lure

Cold.

He came up to consciousness as if from a vast distance. It was like being dead - no sense of self, no spark of awareness, only the vast emptiness of nonexistence. His first sensation came slowly; floating, bobbing up and down in a gentle swell. Next he realized his eyes were closed, but he saw hot spots of pain on the back of the lids. Then he realized he was cold.

He moaned, the sound harsh and sharp in his ears.

Cold. Sore. Wet.

He opened his eyes. Nothing changed at first. Dark, smothering blackness. His arms and legs sent messages to his brain and he became aware of them, too. There was pressure against his chest: he fumbled around it with numb hands. A life vest.

I’m in the water! This is a life vest and I’m in the water!

More senses kicked in: a smell – sweet and thick, foul, like garbage rotting in the sun. Gasoline, too. He craned his neck and the sky came into focus: stars.

Okay – it’s night.

He licked his lips and his tongue exploded with the bitter taste of salt. Salt water.

Salt! This is the ocean! I’m in the ocean at night! What the hell am I doing here?

He tried to remember, but his mind was a jumble of swirling images. There was a boat. He remembered being afraid. He remembered a flickering light.

A lighthouse! I was going toward a lighthouse! But why?

He caught a flash in the corner of his eyes. A few moments later it came back. He spun his body a bit in the water and saw it a third time off in the distance, between the starry sky and the black body of the ocean. A tiny star bloomed, then died. He blinked his eyes a few times to clear them: in the humid air he saw a faint beam, circling.

My light. I remember I was going towards it. I remember being...scared... I was in my boat!

Yes, he had a boat - was in a boat. And he was out in the ocean after dark. He was afraid and went toward the lighthouse to get to land!

I fell asleep in my boat! I woke up in the dark and I was scared, but then I saw the lighthouse and I drove towards it. But then…

Then he hit something. He couldn’t remember what, exactly. It was so dark and his little 21 footer was not really rigged out to operate after dark. Something in the water, maybe. He must have been thrown clear. There was an impact of some sort. The bow surged up into the air. The gas smell. His wrecked boat?

He looked around a bit more. Nothing obvious. The boat must have sunk. How long had he been out? The water was cold – even though it was the month of – the month of…

August. It’s August.

Suddenly a splash sounded off to his right. He spun towards the sound. More blackness. Then the flicker of light from the house.

A hump in the water! Something fairly big, something to cling to! The light flicked across it again. A brief, almost hysterical pang of hope flushed through his body. If he could get to it and it was something he could climb up on, he’d be able to dry off. Maybe even survive this.

Awkwardly, he began breast stroking toward the hump. His joints ached, and his head throbbed. Something didn't feel right in his back, too, maybe a strain? He could have hit the bow or a glancing blow off one of the gunnels as the boat smashed. Had it tipped? He wasn't going very fast at the time, even though he'd wanted to. At least he'd put on a vest.

The light guided him for a few minutes until he was close enough to see it unaided. A solid black hump against the sky. The hull of his boat?

The stink became worse, too. His fingers were slimy and slick, coated with a nasty oil. Something leaked from his engine?
Another splash, much louder, ripples and small waves pushed past him. He was almost there.

God! SOMETHING JUST BRUSHED MY LEG!

Not something anybody wanted to feel in the dark, afloat. He swam faster, thrashing to the lump in the dark. He knew he reached it when his head hit something firm, but yielding. He put a hand and touched it. Slick, like rubber almost. The stink unbelievably horrid.

It’s a whale! I hit a fucking whale!

He pushed down the length of the body to the back, by the huge flukes. Flopping up the rear, digging in with his nails, he was able to pull himself up on the belly with agonizing slowness. More splashing, this time to his left and did he feel a ripple run through the body?

He sprawled out on the belly, exhausted and sick, his head throbbing. The world drained away like water in a sink.

He opened his eyes. He saw light. He lifted his head and spotted a half-moon low on the horizon.

How long have I been out? A few hours? The moon is up.

He looked around. Still floating on the whale. Still wet, but not so cold, now. The summer air was quite warm. He wasn’t going to freeze to death, anyway. Another splash, this time right beside him. He felt the whale shiver a bit. An impact? He looked down to the water.

The tip of a snout nosed out of the water, monochrome in the slivered moonlight, thrashing from side to side. How big? The nose as thick across as his forearm was long, maybe. A ripping sound and it slid below the surface.

He stared at the ripples for a moment while the situation worked out in his pain-dulled mind. Numbness faded, and he felt his heart lurch in his chest as a sharp pang of sheer terror flooded through the rest of his body.

Jesus Christ…something is eating my whale!



More to come...