Sea-Witch

by JE Hunter

  Lunch was delicious. So delicious I made Colleen promise to ask her mom if she could borrow the boat every day—something she quickly agreed to. By the time Colleen finished stuffing herself with spicy tuna and salmon rolls, and I'd eaten so many California rolls I thought my stomach would burst, it was almost three o’clock in the afternoon. Colleen insisted on taking me to Long Beach.

  “It's amazing,” she told me, marching down the steep path through the bright green trees.

  Everything on Vancouver Island had a glowing, fresh look to it, highlighting just how much it rained on the coast. Today, however, a cloudless blue sky glowed above as we approached the end of the trail. Beyond the forest, I could see an extremely long and broad, crescent-moon shaped beach.

  The urban beaches of Surrey and Vancouver couldn’t compare to the endless strand of beach I stood on.

  “I love it here.” Colleen skipped out of the trees and onto the sandy shore. “The only problem is that I can't swim freely here because of all the people.” Colleen headed directly to the water, which was out a long way—it was obviously low tide.

  I lifted a hand to my eyes to dull the sun’s reflection on the ocean, scanning the western horizon. Couples were strolling along the beach hand in hand, children were screaming and building sand castles, some brave souls were swimming, and a few even braver souls were surfing.

  “Come on.”

  “Hold on a sec.” I stopped in the sand. Colleen turned as I kicked off my sandals.

  “Good idea.” Colleen removed her sneakers. “This is a perfect beach for walking barefoot.”

  “Yes, it is,” I agreed, feeling the soft sand shift between my toes.

  We walked down to the ocean, watching the wetsuit clad surfers catch wave after wave.

  “What’s wrong? You look…nervous, or something,” Colleen asked, after taking a good look at my face.

  I felt the heat in my cheeks. “I am nervous. I can't swim—not well anyway. I'm…I’m kind of afraid of water. Watching those people out there get pushed around by the waves...it makes my stomach twitch.”

  Colleen stopped, grabbed me by the elbows and turned me to face her. “You can’t swim? You're kidding. Don't tell my brother Jack, he won't be able to stop laughing.”

  I turned away. “Great, that's exactly what I'm worried the rest of the class will do, laugh at me. I'm supposed to be a great sea-witch and I can't swim. Even Grandma said I should be embarrassed.”

  “Hey,” Colleen said. “No one said you're a great sea-witch.”

  I swatted at her but she playfully dodged away. “Thanks a lot.”

  She shrugged. “You're a sea-witch—which means swimming will probably come naturally to you if you let it.”

  I shook my head. “I tried when I was kid. My parents put me in swimming lessons five times but I always freaked out and left the pool crying. I don't think I got past the lesson where you have to open your eyes underwater.”

  Colleen tilted her head and began walking down the beach again, slowly drawing nearer to the water. “Were these lessons in a pool?”

  “Yes, of course. It was a regular pool with a diving board, a ceramic bottom, chlorine, and all that stuff.” As we moved nearer to the water, the sand became wet and hard. The coolness of the ground moved through my feet and up my legs.

  Colleen scrunched her round face. “Yuck. That was your problem right there. You have to learn to swim here, in the ocean—where it's natural. Even a lake would've been better to learn in than a pool.”

  “I don't think that's it. I just hate water.” I followed Colleen, looking at the ocean in trepidation. Every time a wave broke, sending a cascade of foamy white water to the shore, I jumped. My heart pounded a little bit faster.

  “Oh come on, I can't stand this any longer.” Before I could do anything about it, Colleen ripped my sandals from my grip, tossing them inland. Then she grabbed my hand and dragged me closer to the water.

  “Stop!” I tried digging my feet into the sand but it was too solid.

  “No. You're going in. It's time that Nessa learns to swim.” She fixed an iron grip on my wrist and dragged me into the water. The first touch of it on my toes sent an icy shiver up my spine. I yelped.

  “Oh don't be such a suburban-baby. You're meant for this; you'll get used to it.” Then she started running.

  I panicked, using my free hand to try and pry her fingers from my arm. “No, please. Colleen, no. I’m not even wearing a swimsuit.” But I couldn't stop, and I couldn’t get her off. I was trying so hard to not go into the water, I did the worst thing possible and tripped over my own two feet. I stumbled, my free arm flying into the empty air, trying to find balance, but there was nothing to grab onto. I fell face first into the water, and was quickly buried under its icy depths for the second time in two days.