The Weight of a Thousand Oceans

by Jillian Webster

  She lies back down. Keeping one hand gripped beneath the netting, she folds into a ball for warmth, hugging her bottle of water. A few minutes later, Lucas crawls beneath the tarp and curls his body around hers, wrapping his arm around her like a cocoon. She smiles and slips into a mindless slumber.

  Maia awakens with Lucas’s arm under her neck. She runs her hand along his skin until she reaches his wrist, then intertwines her fingers within his. This man. This man who risked everything looking after her in the storage closet of a ship. This man who dove down and pulled her from the depths of an ocean drowning in rubbish. And then last night, this man who held her while a storm raged around them.

  His fingers clasp around hers. “Good morning,” he says from behind.

  This hand. This hand she wants within hers. Forever. “Good morning,” she whispers through her smile. She flips around and lays her head on his chest, peering through the small opening of the sagging tarp to the exposed part of the raft. She dips her toes into the warm rays of the sun. “It looks beautiful out there.”

  “It is a beautiful day out,” he says. Then chuckling, he adds, “How did we survive that storm last night? I can’t stop thinking about it.” He reaches across and holds her cheek, kissing the top of her head. “Or you.”

  She beams. “Was it pretty bad? The storm? I … wasn’t … paying attention.” Her cheeks flush with heat.

  He delicately brushes the hair from her face. “It was definitely intense,” he finally says. “But as far as storms go, its bark was bigger than its bite.”

  Her head still resting on his chest, she wraps her arm around him. Somehow, in the course of a single evening, the stakes of living through this nightmare have become even higher. She can’t be sure if that makes her feel better or worse.

  Maia’s head pops above the surface of the ocean.

  “Nothing?” Lucas shouts from the raft.

  “Nothing!” Maia gasps. She swims towards him with an empty knife.

  “Watch to your left! Jellyfish!”

  “I see them.”

  Despite losing an obvious amount of weight, Maia’s body feels heavy. Each stroke through the water has become laborious and draining. Lucas holds out his hand and pulls her back on top of the raft. She sits on the edge and hangs her head, wiping her eyes. “I’m just so frustrated. It’s been days since we ate that small fish.”

  “Shall I give it a go?”

  “Sure … although it’s pretty tough. There seem to be a lot of jellies moving in tonight.”

  “Maybe I will spear from here then.” Lucas leans back and pulls some spare strands of rope from a bin. He grabs the rod from the back of the tarp and begins tying the knife to the end.

  “You’re making a spear?”

  “I know we can’t spear far, but it will at least give us a bit more depth to work with.” He stands. Gripping the rod with the knife attached, he peers into the water.

  A buoy slips from beneath his foot and he staggers forward. Maia grabs his arm and they steady themselves. He flashes her a relieved look, then sits down along the edge.

  Maia looks across the raft, uneasy. This raft has slowly gone from sturdy and tightly packed to a bit loose and … wobbly.

  “It’s okay, the knots are just tighter, so there is slightly more wiggle room.” He winks at her.

  She is unconvinced.

  “Hey.” Lucas squeezes her hand. “Everything is still holding, okay? Don’t worry.” He goes back to scanning the water.

  She sighs. “Lucas, we have been fishing for days. There’s nothing.”

  “There. I see something.”

  Maia follows the direction of his pointed finger. “It’s a … fish?” Maia whispers, stunned.

  “I’m going to try. Get back.” Lucas steadies himself on his knees along the edge of the raft.

  Maia watches from behind, biting her nail. The small silver fish glides closer, a little deeper than the last. Maia’s mouth waters at the sight.

  Lucas hovers the blade just above the water’s edge. He swiftly stabs into the ocean and misses. The fish scurries off in a panic.

  “Damn,” he mumbles, and Maia’s heart breaks a little more.

  Lucas’s head tips forward as he nods off to sleep. The light continues to slip from the sky. Maia crawls over and slides the spear from his hands, startling him.

  “Oh, sorry, darling,” he says groggily.

  Darling. She smiles.

  “I can do this, sorry … I fell asleep.” He reaches for the rod.

  “No, let me try. Take a break.” Staring into the water, Maia wills a fish to come. They’ve practically burned their retinas from staring into this empty ocean for days but something has to come around sometime. It has to. It has to. She’ll be damned if she misses it.

  A glimmer catches her eye as that same silver fish has looped back around, drawn once again to the shade of the raft.

  Maia lowers herself to her stomach. Gripping the spear, she repositions her hold, an animal-like instinct honing in. Clear as day, the fish glides closer. Closer. Maia tucks her toes beneath the netting. Holding the spear high above her head, she thrusts it into the water.

  The fish swims off untouched.

  Maia’s frustrated moan curdles into a scream.

  “It’s okay. We will keep trying,” Lucas assures from behind.

  “No … it’s all … warped—doing this from above. I have to get in. I can’t spear with this stupid plastic.” She sits up, fidgeting with the knot of the rope holding the knife.

  “There are jellyfish around. I don’t think we will see another fish for ages now,” Lucas says.

  She focuses on the knot. She’s getting in that water.

  “Maia, you cannot go in there. They could surround you.”

  “There’s not that many jellyfish around—”

  “There are, actually. Please—it’s not worth it.”

  “Lucas, it’s fine. I’ve been doing this my entire life. I’ll be fine.”

  The knot loosens. Almost there.

  “Por favor—” He grabs the rod and the lax rope is ripped from Maia’s grasp.

  “Oh—” she freezes. The blade slips from the weave and drops between the buoys. Maia’s breath stops. The edge of the knife’s handle dangles from a rope.

  “Meu Deus,” Lucas gasps.

  The blade teeters for a moment as the raft rocks against the choppy waves, then twirls halfway before bloop! It plunges into the ocean.

  “NO!” Maia scrambles to the edge.

  Lucas grabs her by the shoulders and yanks her back down. “Maia, no!” He holds her down as she wrestles to break free. “Maia! The ocean is teeming with jellyfish!”

  She wriggles free, hysteria brewing, and crawls frantically back to the edge. Three mammoth jellyfish hover just below the surface next to their raft. Several large clumps of them have dispersed across the vast expanse, and that’s only what she can see—there’ll be more.

  Sickened with horror, she presses her face against the netting and shoves her fingers between the buoys to peer beneath. Her precious knife—the only reason they have survived this long…

  Gone.

  Her breath escaping in short spurts, she searches the water below in complete disbelief as the three colossal jellyfish float casually into view.

  Forty-Three

  Two more days have passed.

  Their water reserves are dwindling and they haven’t eaten anything in nearly a week. Maia sits cross-legged in a sunken groove in the floor of their raft. Frayed ends of rope keep popping from the weave like weeds, something that used to send her into a panic … until now. Biting her nail, she glares across the sea as mammoth black clouds quietly climb on top of one another like ravenous vultures at a feed.

  Dread swims about her empty gut.

  Lucas sleeps soundly under the tarp with his shirt wrapped around his head as a barrier from the nets. He is curled tightly into the fetal position, his backbone protruding from his sun-blackened skin.
Every day he disappears a little more, both physically and emotionally. Fading down to skin and bones. Sleeping around the clock.

  Quiet.

  Caving in on himself.

  Another flicker of light sparks from deep within the expanding dark mass. It’s been constant—the lightning, like a silent war waging within. The sea and wind are calm—eerily so. The sky is saturated in a bizarre hue of yellow … almost green. The color of sick. The color of dread. It’s as if the earth itself were preparing for an assault.

  Thunder snarls from a distance. This feels different from the last storm. How different, Maia has no way of knowing, but it doesn’t look good. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end as she glares at the wall of approaching clouds, suddenly indignant. She knew this was coming—it was only a matter of time—but she did not come this far to become a casualty of another natural disaster.

  This will not be the death of her.

  This will not be the death of him.

  This will not be the death of them.

  This will not be the death of them.

  This will not be the death of them.

  “Maia?”

  She turns to find Lucas sitting up. Pulling his shirt back over his head, his face is alarmed as he peers over her shoulder.

  She stops biting her nail. “It’s pretty bad … isn’t it?”

  The color drains from his face.

  “Lucas, what do we do?”

  His eyes wide, they dart between her and the swirling, dark clouds. The look on his face makes her heart sink.

  “Lucas?”

  He surveys their raft—sunken, loose, frayed. He pulls on a tattered rope and ties it tight, then looks around the raft, clearly noticing for the first time how many loose ends there are. “Hold on, Maia,” he says quietly, meeting her gaze. His troubled demeanor collapses to sorrow. “We hold on.”

  Maia crawls over to him, an arduous task across the sunken raft. A piece of netting unravels beneath her and she sinks to her chin. Panicked, she rolls to her side and quickly pulls the ends to tie them together again. Lucas watches her with sadness in his eyes.

  “This is just a storm. Right, Lucas? We’ve survived quite a few already, this one shouldn’t be any different?”

  “Maia.” He slowly shakes his head. “That … those clouds.” He pauses, chewing on his words. “This is not just a storm,” he says in defeat.

  She swallows hard, gripping the netting as the raft wavers beneath them, suddenly bullied by an onslaught of waves. They look at each other for a long time without speaking.

  Thunder travels across the sea and a gust of wind bowls into them. The raft flows over a small swell. Lucas grabs the flapping tarp and lowers the center rod to flatten it. The rapidly advancing clouds devour the remaining light from the sky.

  The raft travels over another swell and Maia and Lucas roll forward. Alarmed, she grips the netting and her fingers twist within the weave. Lucas bolts forward to grab the sliding bin of water. They brace themselves by lowering on all fours as close to the raft as possible.

  A flood of rain suddenly spills from the sky. Maia watches Lucas through the torrent. Something in his gaze shifts and his fear is replaced by anger. He releases his grip from the netting and pulls her face close to his. “No, I am not going to lose you, Maia. Not now, not ever.”

  An overwhelming sense of sadness swells from within and Maia begins to sob. She holds his hand against her cheek.

  “Maia, this is not the end for us.”

  You promise? Maia silently mouths as the wind and rain howl around them.

  A wave smashes on top of them, pounding Maia into the raft as if a mountain of boulders has crashed on top of them. She coughs up seawater and Lucas grabs her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.

  “I promise,” he says. He pulls her into him and kisses her as a loud snap of thunder fractures the air. Lightning stretches across the swirling sky. He crawls to the crate at the back of their tarp and starts handing her bottles. “Drink!”

  Maia doesn’t hesitate to chug them down and Lucas does the same, one after the other, all while bracing themselves against the endless combative waves. A gust of wind clutches at the tarp and it snaps back like a sail, pulling their raft backwards up a swell.

  “Hold on, Maia! Hold on!”

  Maia drops her face to the nets. Lucas throws himself next to her as the top of the raft lifts out of the water and then slams back down. Maia pulls at the netting. It gathers loosely in her hands. The tarp angrily snaps in and out as the rain continues to monsoon on top of them.

  “Lucas!” Maia grabs the back of his shirt and shows him the netting between flashes of light. “Lucas, it’s falling apart!”

  The raft makes its way up another swell, sliding up the towering wave like a wall of water. Maia cries out as her legs slip from underneath her. They momentarily hang from the netting before slamming down onto the other side.

  Maia can feel the buoys of the raft separating. “Lucas!”

  “Hold on, Maia!” Lucas yells through the deluge. “The tarp!”

  Maia looks up at the tarp, taut in the blustering wind. Lucas crawls to the corner. The raft slides down another swell and his body rolls across the boards, slamming into her. With one hand gripping the nets, she grabs his shirt as he rolls towards the edge. He clutches at the loose nets as his legs swing out over the raft. The ocean waves hurl into them like fists of water pounding into their backs.

  Lucas drags himself to the tarp and works at untying it from the raft. One corner flies up into the wind … the corner where the last of their water was secured.

  Gone. Everything is gone.

  Lucas kicks in the prop holding up the tarp. Lightning flickers, followed by an instant clash of thunder. Lucas and Maia cling to the raft as it sails up another mammoth swell. Their legs once again slip from beneath them. Maia cries out, struggling to dig her toes into the ropes as the raft is pushed up, up, up until it flips on top of them.

  The raging storm is muffled as the weight of the ocean envelopes her. Maia reaches for the tarp dragging beneath their raft and kicks ferociously towards the surface. Pushing her hand between the loose buoys, she clutches at the netting stretching across the exposed bins on top and gasps for air.

  “Maia!” Lucas yells from the other side of the raft.

  She takes a deep breath and sinks beneath the water, fumbling her way across the bottom of the raft to the other side. Breaking the surface, she gasps.

  “Climb on top!” Lucas yells, clinging to the raft as unrelenting waves crash into him.

  “The containers are too big!”

  “Climb the netting!”

  The upside-down raft sails over wave after wave as Maia struggles to lift herself out of the water. She grapples over the large plastic jugs that once sat below them. Lucas pushes her from below and she drops to the other side, splashing into the loose netting between the containers, now half-submerged beneath the water. Her foot slips between the nets and lands on a board of driftwood still secured underneath.

  “Lucas!” She secures her foot on the plank and stands out of the water. Reaching over the large container, she finds Lucas still gripping the netting off the side of the raft. She pulls at his arm as they sail over another swell, thunder crashing around them like the air itself is splitting to pieces. Lucas rounds the top of a container. Maia screams as she uses all her strength to haul him over and he splashes to the nets below.

  Lucas grabs her face and they focus on each other through the flashes of light.

  They are still alive. Somehow, they are still alive. They travel over another swell, but the bins around them now provide a barrier from falling out. The raft is more stable upside down, although the sagging floor they now crouch on leaves them half-submerged in water.

  Maia tries to keep her focus on Lucas as they brace themselves against the onslaught of elements. This will all be over soon. Just hang on. Don’t let go.

  Something catches her eye over L
ucas’s shoulder. A white dress appears from within the darkness. She squints through the thick haze of rain as her mother appears on the ocean, her white gown flowing in the wind.

  Smiling, Maia reaches out her hand. “Mum?”

  No—not her mother. It’s Maia, that same vision of herself from her dreams. She is majestic, with fire-red, wild curls. Crystalline eyes. Her face fierce. Her skin porcelain. The water beneath her glimmers with bright blue embers and a peculiar grin spreads wide across her face.

  Maia’s heart begins to pound. To her horror, the water she sits in now also glistens with the same bright blue energy. Sparks fly out from the deep. Her tattered clothes have been replaced by the same white gown.

  It’s happening—that power. That power she’s tried so hard to leave behind. That power she’s spent months convincing herself was the land of New Zealand. But it wasn’t New Zealand. It wasn’t the trees or the bees or the whispers within the wind … it was her.

  The chaotic world around her dims into silence as she becomes acutely aware of the vibrant, universal life swarming around her. From the countless minuscule creatures in every drop of water on her skin to the surge of power and electricity blasting through the atmosphere, life streams through her as if there were no actual barriers of skin and water and sky.

  Her wet auburn hair drenched across her face curls into corkscrews, transforming into bright red—NO! She scrunches her eyes shut. Lucas can’t see her like this. This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening!

  A familiar euphoric current surges from within. Bubbling up from the tip of her toes, it courses through her legs and up across her chest. Her skin tingling, icy-hot, burning from the inside.

  Maia keeps her eyes closed, pleading for it to stop, that Lucas is not watching her at this very moment as her entire world unravels. What would he think? Her world would be over. He would know she was a monster, and how could anyone love a monster?

  Maia focuses on harnessing this power and wrangling it down. Back. In. Down. Back. In. Like forcing an army of savages away from the gates. The visions slowly fade and her tingling fingers once again feel the cool, wet netting beneath them. Her world becomes loud and the wind once again batters her from all angles. Gripping the ropes around the containers, she focuses on breathing between the constant barrage of waves.