Landlocked

Sensitive content: Drowning, Death

The sun hasn’t risen yet. It is so early that Cora still has sleep in her eyes and the world is a bit blurry. Waking up from such a deep sleep, she’s not sure which view will be outside of her kitchen window. She dreamt of a home she knew before. As she places the yellow kettle on the stove, the house phone rings. She bustles into the living room and grabs her slippers on the way because the floors are rather cold. Letting the phone ring, she throws a couple of logs into the wood stove and notes that she’ll need to chop more later. 

“It happened again,” the voice on the other line says as soon as she answers.

It is her lifelong friend, Ginny. She’s awake now and knows where she is. She never even considered who would be calling. 

Ginny, the only one who knows she’d be up pitter pattering around at this hour, given the time difference. It all comes flooding in, and she slowly lowers herself onto the hardwood floor. It creaks as she sinks and the chord that connects the phone to the wall stretches taught. 

“Have the tides risen again?” 

“Farther than before. It took a few days, but the body was returned.” 

There’s a short silence and Cora notices the sky turning blue outside as the sun makes its way up. The kettle screams and she stands.

“Ginny, I’ve got to get the kettle,” she sets the phone down on the half wall that separates the living room and the kitchen. In the kitchen, she fills her French press, in disbelief she has to use her voice before her coffee is made. 

“I thought if I left, that would be the end of it all.” 

“Have you looked at the calendar? It’s been seven years, to this day.” 

“What am I supposed to do? There were eight of us on that boat. Why haven’t they left the water alone? Why haven’t they left? There’s only three of us then.”

“The saltwater calls to all of us. This is our home. Not everyone can just leave it behind.” 

“Then why haven’t you taught them how to survive?” 

“I barely know how I’ve done it! I just keep my distance. They thought I was crazy when I would say ‘leave the ocean alone,’” 

“We both know it’s not the ocean. Five drownings? From natives? We all started swimming before we knew how to walk!”  

“No one we’ve told has ever believed us. Even Mark won’t discuss it with me anymore. He blames drinking, drugs, and night swimming. He says they’ve all been fools. He won’t talk about that night on the boat, says we were young. Says you and I have big imaginations.” 

“So if you talked to Mark, it was Lauren then..” 

 “I wondered when you’d ask.” 

Cora stops to think. She didn’t want to ask. She doesn’t want to face this. She moved to a landlocked state for a reason. She stands and stretches her legs. 

“Just a moment,” she mutters before setting the phone down again. She paces back to her French press and fills a plain white mug with coffee. She feels the warmth on her hands and closes her eyes. 

She sees the tall waves all around them. She remembers thinking they must have been ten or fifteen feet, if not bigger, but everything was moving so fast. It was the first time she’d ever been scared of the ocean. She sees her hand gripping Ginny’s as they use their others to hold onto the railing. She feels the water crash over them, remembers being unsure of where the others were. When it clears, she sees the moonlight reflecting off of green scales. The boat was rocking so violently, her eyes stung with salt water, and everything was blurry. There were chunks of what looked like human flesh. There was so much blood. She opens her eyes and takes her coffee back to the phone and sinks to the floor. 

“Ginny, you have to tell Mark to keep his distance. If it’s worked for you-“ 

“Cora, I haven’t crossed Coastal since before you left. I’ve lived my life on one side of the island. I’ve gone eleven years without feeling the sand under my feet. You tell Mark to do that. He still hasn’t sold his fishing boat. He lets Jerry charter it on the weekend during season,” 

“Why don’t you just move here then? I’d be open to finding a bigger cabin.” 

“Cordelia!” And now she knows her friend is upset. She rarely addresses her by her full name.

 “My life is here. It always has been. You haven’t been home in almost seven years. I know you’ve distanced yourself. But I still do things like bake with Ruth. I paint with Lauren. Well, I was. You know she has a one year old daughter? Her husband is beside himself. And we don’t know if this curse carries down generations. She was the only one who risked starting a family.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. What is her daughter’s name? How is Ruth?”

“Marina June, and you know Ruth was never the same.” 

“So she kept that name alive. I’m sure Ruth loves that. I know Marina was her whole world after her husband passed when we were kids."

“They were best friends. We all were. Losing Marina hit Lauren hard. But, her daughter has an even bigger personality than both of them combined. You’d love her. And, now I have to figure out how to tell James to keep her away from the ocean,” she pauses, “Cora, there’s only three of us left. This has to be a curse.” 

“What? Do you want me to feel guilty for surviving? What are we supposed to do?” 

“They think we did something unforgivable. What if you came home? We could try to face them together.” 

“And do what, Ginny? Pick up a conch shell and send out a signal? Go for a night swim, hope they realize, and potentially sacrifice ourselves?

She gets off of the floor again and leans against the wall. She stares out of the living room window as she listens to Ginny’s pacing footsteps on the other end. The sun has risen and the mountains are painted pink, the rest of the world is cast in an orange glow. She imagines Ginny staring out at a thick fog that this time of year calls for back home. This is Ginny’s longest silence yet. She’s not normally at a loss for words like Cora often finds herself. She wasn’t always this way. In high school her teachers always said she talked too much. 

Ginny lets out a painful sigh, “Cora, there is a way.” 

“What do you mean? Why do you sound so sure?”

“I was there the night you almost drowned. I know you don’t remember and I hate that it took me so long to tell you. I knew you needed to leave and I never wanted to hold you back. I thought maybe it’d end with you surviving, too.” 

Her jaw is slack and it feels harder to breathe. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I was on my way home from work and saw your white jeep parked at the inlet. It was the only car in the lot. Even though you can’t see the shore line from Coastal, I had a bad feeling. I was too scared to cross the highway. I parked in the Crab House parking lot across the street  and called the police on the pay phone in the lot. God, Cora, I am so sorry. As soon as I saw the ambulances and search and rescue pull in, I threw caution to the wind. I ran across Coastal, I was so angry. I got there as they were pulling you out. So I waited down the beach. I didn’t want to be seen.” 

Her mind is racing. She doesn’t remember anything after leaving her bartending shift that night. She remembers starting her car and pulling out of the parking lot, but then things go grey. Then, she woke up scared in the hospital. 

“So you lied two seconds ago, about how long it had been since you felt the sand under your feet. Ginny, what are you getting at?” 

“Cora, you didn’t just decide to stop for a night dip on your way home from work that night. Don’t you think it’s weird you don’t remember anything? Don’t you think it’s strange that Lauren, Marina, Kate, John, and Jude have all drowned, alone?” 

“Oh my god, Ginny. Of course! I know something is wrong! I almost died! But, what is it you think we can do about this?” 

“I’m sorry! I know you know.” 

Cora doesn’t respond. She’s confused, and she doesn’t know what Ginny expects from her right now. 

“Cora, do you remember what we saw get washed onto the boat that night? Do you remember pushing her back into the ocean?” 

“Ginny!” She breathlessly proclaims. 

“The next morning, when I went back to clean up the boat, I found something. It was a ring.” 

“It could’ve been any of the girls-“ 

“No, it couldn’t have been. Come home, Cora.” 

“I’m not just coming home! I still don’t understand anything.” 

“We can fix this. It’s not just for the two of us or Mark, it’s for Marina. We deserve the chance to start families if we want, too, you know. This is a conversation we ought to finish in person. If you won’t come back, I’ll pack up the car and drive through the night. I’ll be there tomorrow. But, start preparing yourself to drive home with me,” and the line clicks off. Cora sighs and looks down at her now shaking coffee mug. There’s no point in calling her friend back to stop her. It’s been too long since they’ve seen each other anyways. 

She hangs the phone up on the receiver and goes back to the kitchen. At the small table next to the window, she tops off her mug and looks around the house. She’s never had a guest. She’ll have to pull out the extra sheets to make the couch up. Thinking about Ginny as a mom brings tears to her eyes. She’s never thought about that. They’ll be twenty eight this year. She realizes this might not be the first time Ginny has thought about it. 

She thinks about calling her again,  but she knows she’s probably already in the car. She’ll probably call by the time she gets to Kansas and check in. She remembers their road trips as teenagers, she knows Ginny will be fine on the drive. Her mind is quiet. Another rarity. There’s so much she seems to not know. There’s so much she’s tried to bury. She’ll start writing her questions down later.

For now, she watches the snow capped mountains. She thinks about how unmovable they are. Do they hold as many secrets as the ocean?