Sunshowers

The rocking of the boat made it difficult to focus, as I had never been on a boat before and felt a little woozy. I heard the captain of the ship speaking in the background but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying over the sound of the wind assaulting my ears. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a member of the ship crew waving his arms around slightly, as though gesturing for the wind and the waves to follow him, but when I glanced over, I didn’t see anybody on that area of the deck. That’s odd… the salty sea air must be getting to me. I turned back to gazing out at the ocean, the waves which seemed to be gaining height by the second. I could hear the captain now, who seemed to be approaching the rail to look out at the sea

alongside me.

“Didn’t expect these waves to be getting so strong!” he exclaimed as a wave sloshed onto the deck, soaking our shoes.

“Perhaps you would have expected it if you had actually realized how far off course we were getting,” muttered the first mate under his breath, who had joined the captain in flanking me. He gave a guilty start when he realized I had heard him. “I am so sorry, sir, I know that this trip was meant to give your wife time to relax and clear up all of her… symptoms.” He smiled reassuringly, though I certainly didn’t appreciate the insinuation that Mia was crazy. Though I suspected he may be right, thoughts like that weren’t anything I would ever say aloud. I didn’t know what voices she was hearing, but her unwillingness to go into much detail had left

me to suspect that there was information she was refusing to share. 

As though my thoughts had summoned her, Mia emerged onto the deck, looking as tense as ever, and I once again thought of the way she used to be, enthusiastic and energetic. I couldn’t comprehend what would have changed such a feisty woman into someone that looked like a cornered animal. I walked over to her and led her by the arm to an area away from the crewmates. When we reached the port side of the ship, she leaned against the railing, silent.

“How are you doing?” I asked. “Any better today?”

She shrugged, then, after another moment of silence, said, “Some days I don’t know if I am real or not.”

I stared at her in shock for a moment, then decided that the best course of action would be to just laugh it off. “Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear.”

She turned and held eye contact with me, and, with an uncomfortable prickle, I saw that she regained a little of the fire she had always used to have in her eyes. After a few seconds that felt like forever, she turned away and went back into the cabin. 

It wasn’t until later that night, when I was awoken by Mia leaving the room, that I realized I should perhaps have taken her fears a little more seriously. I could hear the waves crashing above deck, much worse than they had been that day.

“Mia, you can’t go up there, it’s too dangerous!”

“Can’t you hear him, Jack? He’s yelling for help!” 

I listened as hard as I could, but heard nothing. “It’s just the wind, stay here, it’s safe.” But even as I spoke, she was pulling open the door and darting forward.

“Well, at least wait for me then!” I called, leaping out of the bed and rushing after her. As soon as I emerged onto the deck, cold water splashed over my feet and up my calves. “Mia? Mia!” I shouted over the roaring of the wind, but I could not see where she had gone. Then I really did hear it, a voice calling for help, but not a man’s. Mia’s. 

I raced toward the source of the sound through the dark night, finding Mia somehow on the wrong side of the railing, her feet scrabbling for a hold on the slippery deck, her knuckles a stark white gripping the rail, eyes round and terrified.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, there was no one here, help me, Jack, please,” she pleaded, looking for all the world as though she thought I would let her fall. I grabbed hold of her arm, trying to pull her back onto the right side of the landing, when I heard a loud, unmistakable cackle of glee from behind me. The next moment, a wave crashed against and over the railing, pulling me against it, and loosening my grip on Mia, whose feet were no longer on the deck, but kicking madly fifteen feet above the churning sea. As another wave rose up to meet us, I heard a voice whisper in my ear.

“You lose.” 

I jumped, startled, and as I did so, Mia’s arm slipped from my grasp, and, as if the ocean had known this as destiny, the wave curled perfectly over Mia and folded her into the sea.

I spun around, looking for the perpetrator that had made me lose my wife, but there was just a voice in my ear again. “You will never get the happiness that you so desperately want. You don’t deserve it.” With a sinking sensation, I realized that the voice my wife had been hearing must have finally killed my wife and was moving on to me. 

I was suddenly overcome with an irrational anger and defiance. “No! No, I refuse to lose her! You won’t take her from me!” 

“Making my job more difficult for me, hm? Very well then, be a challenge.”

I blinked out at the sea, the sun blinding in my eyes. The sea was calm today. I turned to my wife, lounging on the deck, reading a book she had packed. I smiled, making my toward her, but there a quick flash and I was momentarily surrounded by darkness and waves, before I was back in the warm sun, settling down next to Mia. As perfect as everything was, I suddenly had the terrible feeling that something was horribly, horribly wrong.