It's Your Future

There is something about a still ocean. You have this intrinsic understanding that such a large body of water can’t be static. It has to move, it has to live, but sometimes before dawn when the wind has dropped away and warm air feels thick enough to carve with a machete, the ocean is as frozen as the surface of an ice cube. As if, despite the tropical heat, the ocean has solidified and has invited you to take a precarious step, to test your weight on its flawless surface.

I couldn’t help but stop at the end of the dock and watch the ocean for a moment, enjoying the stillness, the quiet. The harbor curled to the right. Docks, spaced around mangrove trees, with small motor boats tied up. The dull lights of town sparkled in the remnants of night, at the harbor’s apex. It was too early for even the gulls to have swooped from their perches, but hopefully not too early for the fish to bite. I hopped in my boat and set off, watching as my watercraft sent ripples outwards. The roar of the clinking motor disturbing the peaceful silence, but only for a short duration. Once I reached the center of the cove, I cut the motor, dropped my line, and leaned back to wait.

It wasn’t long before I had a bite. I scurried to crank the line, drawing my catch to the surface. I yanked the fish up over the rugged lip of my boat and wiped a hand over my brow. Even in the dim half light before dawn, temperatures were warm enough to draw sweat, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The fish flopped in the bow, gasping at air. I pulled out my knife and drew the trapped hook from where it had sunk into the fish’s mouth. Sliding my hand around its scaly tail, I dropped it in my bucket and threw my line back over the edge. One down, five to go.

Enduring the excessive heat was part of living in the tropics, and it was a small toll to pay for the price of beautiful sandy beaches, coral reefs teaming with colorful fishes, and sparkling azure water. It was something you’d never want to leave. I’d heard that plenty of times from tourists who flock to my island for their vacations. They dreaded jumping back on an airplane or walking up the gangplank to their cruise ship, being drawn back to their lives behind desks and computers, as if the week or two they spent away was but a dream. As much as they say they’d love to stay, they never did, except for the occasional millionaire who builds another monstrosity of a vacation home.

People flock to my island to visit, tell me how lucky I am to live here. Before, it filled me with immense pride. Now, I do nothing but paste on a false smile and nod behind my cash register at the souvenir shop. It may be a place no one would want to leave, but I was doing just that in a matter of hours, curtesy of a prestigious scholarship to an ivy league university in the United States.

And I may not return for four years, or longer. The scholarship would cover all of my needs in the States, but it wasn’t without stipulations. I would be expected to work with a professor each summer. There would be no time to come home, except on holidays, and there was not enough money to spare for expensive plane tickets. If I chose to continue my education, or was offered a position in the States, it may be even longer before I returned.

There were so many variables, so much uncertainty, my mind turned towards the worst. What if I didn’t come back at all? What if something happened while I was gone? It was possible a hurricane could wipe out the whole island, destroying the rainforests and town I love, not to mention the people. What would happen to Davy without me to guide him? How could dad do everything? And mom, if her sickness got any worse…

Another bite on my line interrupted my thoughts. I leapt at the line again, pulling up another fish that would be our lunch. Two down, three to go.

*

My little cousins Linda and Billy gripped the edge of the bucket to examine my catch. It didn’t matter how many times I returned home with fish. They always wanted to see, the excitement of fish in a bucket still fresh for child eyes. I glanced at the bucket and moved to find a cutting board, trying not to think of the fascination we had for life expunged from its natural habitat. My cousins returned to their books and toys as I began the process of decapitating my catch. They never did like the killing part.

As I dumped the fish into a slow cooker, preparing a stew we would eat later, my dad and brother came in, still rubbing sleep from their eyes. Still pajama clad.

“Preparing the last lunch?” Davy chided, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table.

“You’re going to miss your brother when he’s gone.” Dad rustled around the basket at the top of the fridge, finding a box of cereal and handing it to Davy.

I hated how it sounded so final. Gone. Gone from the only home I’ve ever known. I had never even left the island before.

“All right, Locke?” Dad asked.

“I should finish packing.” I shouldered past my father, trying not to look at the hurt expression on his face, and dashed up the steps to my room. I was eighteen. I should be ready to move on, but why did nerves churn my stomach?

The hours before lunch passed agonizingly slow. I finished packing my two suitcases, and sat on my bed, looking at my room for the final time. My closet, now empty, except for some clothes I had outgrown this summer. My turntable and assorted records I had collected with my dad. I didn’t have room for them, and it panged me to leave them behind. It was the special thing me and my dad shared. My bookshelf remained as well, crammed with the volumes of novels and natural science. No room for all of them either, except for a few of my favorites and a couple I had yet to read. My bed was nothing but a mattress, my sheets and pillow packed.

I rested my arm over my eyes, thinking of my last swim in the lagoon the day before. Davy had surprised me, inviting me for a swim. The water, translucent and calm, had been alluring as ever. We swam most of the afternoon at our secret swimming place, pointing out large rainbow fish and schools of small yellow strippers. We had gone into the cave we had discovered years ago, shining our lights into the depths looking for signs of mysterious life. It had felt like we were kids again, adventuring and creating our own stories. I had felt closer to Davy then than I had in years, and now I was leaving him, dropping my load of responsibilities on his shoulders.

Lunch was a somber affair. My cousins argued, my father split them up. My brother said little. Everyone agreed the stew was good, but not as great as when mom made it.

“Uncle Harvey says you’ll see snow now,” Linda said, chewing a piece of dry bread. “It sounds marvelous.” She struggled over the syllables of marvelous.

“It sounds cold,” Davy said.

I shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. Leaving home was bad enough. Leaving it for the snowy unknown, made me feel as if ice was already under my skin.

“There is enough money on your debit to buy yourself blankets and warm weather clothing,” dad reminded me. “Don’t wait, temperatures will dip quick as fall gets on.”

“Yes, dad.” I took my empty bowl to the sink and began cleaning up. Davy joined me, carrying the remainder of the bowls.

“I think you’ll like it there,” Davy said, as he scrubbed. “You’re going on an adventure, like all those books you read.”

“You have to try harder at school, Davy. If you’re going to help at the shop more, it really is important.”

“I’ll try.” He turned the water off, not looking at me. “It’s not easy for me like it is you.”

Dad set a hand on my shoulder as I finished wiping the last dish. “Your mom is ready for you.”

I pushed through the door, staring at my mother where she lay on the bed. Sunlight streamed through the open windows, and a gentle breeze stirred the gauzy white curtains. The walls were coated in serene blue paint. I remembered painting the walls with my mother, when I was ten. We had laughed when I stepped in a tray of paint, ricocheting droplets over my clothing, into my hair, dark and curly like hers.

“How can I leave you, mom?” I said, crouching at her bedside, taking up her hand.

Her mouth parted in a slow smile, exposing bright white teeth and wrinkling the corners of her mouth. “I will be fine, Locke.”

Reading my skeptical expression, as I glanced at her frail hand in mine, the white blankets piled atop her, the assortment of orange medication bottles on her bedside, the cup of once steaming tea she had not touched, she continued. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you earned it. You deserve this. You deserve a bright future, and it’s not here. It’s out there, changing the world.”

“Mom,” I said, my face heating, glancing down where I still held her hand, unable to meet her eyes. I had no desire to go out and change the world, nor the vanity to think I could. Not everyone who attends an ivy league goes on to greatness. “I could defer a year, to help you get better. We’ll need help running the shop. Davy can’t do it on his own, he’s still too young.”

Mom pulled her hand away, folding her fingers across her chest. “He’s sixteen years old. If he can’t handle stocking shelves and dolling out change, there is no hope for him.”

 “But you need me.”

“I’m too young to have my son telling me that it is I who needs him. I don’t need you fading away at my bedside. Your father does enough of that for us all.”

“He shouldn’t have to do it on his own.”

“Your father,” mom said, shaking her head. “I never thought he would stay here, even after you two came along. I knew he loved me, and his boys, but island life wasn’t what he had envisioned for himself. What I’ve realized is, you should never doubt his commitment and strength. He will be fine.”

“I can still defer. It won’t mean I’m not going.”

“It’s your future. I’m not keeping you from it.” Her voice invited no argument. “You’re packed?”

“Yes,” I said, morose.

“You better get going then. Your flight leaves in a couple hours, and you know how long it will take your father to get everyone loaded into the car.”

“Yes mom,” I said rising. Then I threw my arms around her, trying not to put my weight on her chest, trying not to cry, needing to hold her, because what if…

“I love you too, Lockey”

“Mom,” I said, sniffling. She hadn’t called me by my baby name in years.

“Now go, and don’t look back. Keep all the memories in here,” she said, tapping her head, “but don’t look back. It’ll make it harder.”

“Yes, mom.”

 “Go on then,” she said, voice soft, her eyes staring to close as the drowsiness of her medications sunk in. “We still have phones, and I’ll always answer.”

*

Dad gripped me in a tight embrace as I stood on the curb outside the terminal. I think he was trying not to cry. Even Davy hugged me.

“You’re going to have to help out more,” I said into his hair. “For mom.”

He pulled away, and looked at me with a hard look in his eye. I suddenly saw him as a young man, no longer a child. He nodded. “For mom.”

Linda and Billy swarmed me, wrapping their arms around my waist, before peeling away.

With a last pat on my shoulder from dad, I tugged on my two suitcases and went through the terminal doors. Before long, I was seated in the airplane as it moved slowly into position.

Don’t look back, I repeated in my mind. Mom said not to look back. My fingers curled around the armrest as the plane began to rumble down the stretch. It was going to fast! I tried to still my heart. It had to go fast, didn’t it, to get into the air? I looked at the empty seat next to me, the plane was only half full. Mom should be there. She should be coming with me. How can I leave her, and dad? My brother, my cousins? The bait shop, our favorite restaurant on the beach, Mom’s souvenir shop. The turquoise waters and sandy beaches. The flowers swaying to some unknown melody in the wind. The cobblestone streets and the old church. The scent of salt and earth and vibrant plants. The warmth and beautiful sunsets. Still mornings going out in my boat to find fish to feed my family.

I understood now, what those tourists meant, when they said the wanted to stay, but couldn’t.

Don’t look back, but keep it in my head, mom had said. Keep it in my head. And so, I did, as the plane leveled, carrying me to my future.