Joanne's Cabin - Part 16

Liz gasps one last breath before she pierces the surface as straight as a pin, slicing through cool water as black as ink. Releasing her arms, she kicks hard, propelling herself to the surface. There’s no light above so she has no way of knowing how deep she slipped. As her breath nears its end, she breaks out of the water blinded by a world still as bright as it was when she tipped over the cliff. She gulps the air, blinking hard in the sharp light. A crying breeze brushes past her as she treads water. It quiets as she swivels around, hunting for the source.

Liz can’t see one finger or noodly arm below the surface. She could be bobbing in a can of black paint. Could there be carnivorous monsters hidden below in the dark? Joanne has never mentioned anything about swimming. Whether there is or not, she should get out of the water as soon as possible. Liz scans the shoreline. The long tall cliff above her is sandwiched between two flat spots. To the far left there’s a weed patch and a sandy beach; to the right, there are chunks of rock that would be easy to climb.

The cry returns, slipping across her cheek like a soft kiss. She stills her body, floating with the air held in her lungs. She searches the beach but sees no one. Bubbles tickle her toes and Liz kicks hard away from the breath below her towards the beach. There may be someone there who can help her find the way back to Joanne’s cabin. Maybe it’s Joanne who’s crying? She says she is always alone. It couldn’t be anyone else.

The cries dart past again igniting the energy in Liz’s feet. She must kick harder—she’s almost there. Afraid of the darkness below, Liz’s head bobs above the surface as her legs and arms work quickly in a strong breath stroke. Panic climbs up her chest into her head like sharp pin-pricks as more bubbles activate below her. She can’t think straight. She needs to get to the shore. Her cheeks tingle and her lungs burn as she pushes her body forward with all the strength she can muster. Where is this magic within her now? Perhaps this dark water is extinguishing the energy. All she feels is dread and the aching in her body as it heaves forward.

Whatever she has isn’t enough. She must push harder or she’s going to be eaten by whatever creature is blowing on her toes. It’s playing a game with her now. She’s done for. Even if by miracle she climbs up onto the shore, where will she go? That’s not the sandy beach where she ties up her kayak. She’s on the other side and she’ll be lost here forever. Her body begins to cry out, joining the melancholic weeping from the shore. She’s spent all her energy and has nothing left to get her to the sand. She’s going to drown or be eaten. Her tears pour into the black grave. She looks up and she’s so close. Any second her feet will come upon the bottom but it’s still so dark below. She must push forward. A monster won’t be able to swim up into the shallows, right? She flops her arms around, scooting forward in a slow dog paddle.

Why did Liz come here? She should’ve listened to her mom. It was arrogance, not curiosity. She thought she was so much smarter and better skilled in the woods than her bush-hating mom. Nothing bad would happen to her. Now look at her. She’ll either be eaten by a monster or be lost in a magical woods forever. She’ll never find Joanne and if she does, Joanne could be the evil girl her mom believes she is. Liz has been wrong about everything else. Joanne’s probably watching from the cliff right now laughing at her.

Her eyes flick up at the rock and a spot moves in her periphery. Is that a person in the weeds? No, many slim faces are rocking in the licking waves. Why are they crying?

“Help me!” Liz cries out to the people on the shoreline.

They continue their crying and swaying but do not come to her aid. Something slides along her leg. Something slick and cold and very long.

Liz cries. She kicks as hard as she can while scooping and pushing the water behind her with cupped hands. Afraid to look back at the monster hunting her, she fixes on the faces. Why won’t they help her?

“Please, help!” she screams. “There’s something in the water.”

The wailing is stronger with it stroke. It’s as if it’s falling right between her ears.

And it is because it’s Liz’s cries.

Her toes touch the sand. She made it to the shallows. She pushes harder but her wails continue. Her brain is divided. One side knows how close she is to the shore but the other side is much louder. She’s going to die here. She’s never getting out. She pivots around and the dark water reveals nothing as to what’s chasing her. She turns back to the beach and she has somehow diverted into the weeds. They cling at her body and she fills with dread. She’s not getting out. She pushes along the incline through the water as thick as mud. She is going to die here. The feathered fingers reach out to her.

Her body gives up. She can’t make it.

Her feet sink into the sand. Roots wrap around each toe. Her wailing grows, joining the voices around her. Her desperate eyes hop along the waving weeds as her body disengages from her mind. She sways in the breeze. Each feathered grass surrounding her stares blankly with mouths stretched into long grimaces. They bob back and forth in the rippling water, their tragic moans sweep Liz away.