by Ron Vitale
“Mo, I don’t have much time.” His use of my nickname shot through me, and the immediacy of his fate hit me hard. He fought back tears and in a warbled voice said, “Forgive me for all that I’ve ever done to you. I should never have left you. I’m sorry.”
Before I could reply, the tendrils, like vipers, vanished beneath the waves, pulling Nathan under.
“No!” I punched at the water, but it parted with no sign of him. Taking a deep breath, I dived under the sea, and he reached toward me. The tendrils had wrapped around him fully, and a tentacle rose and forced itself into his mouth. He convulsed and struggled for a brief moment, but then he calmed, and I could see him no longer fighting the fear of drowning. The white whale swam away, and its tendrils released my brother, but the tentacles that rose from the ocean floor pulled him into the darkness below. Moby Dick turned and I could swear that the beast stared at me for a few moments, taking me in its gaze, but then as if it no longer cared, the white whale swam away, hundreds of tendrils trailing it and slowly disappearing back within the creature’s skin.
Knowing that I had not much time, I kicked harder, trying to reach Nathan and bring him back. He sank faster than I could swim into the depths of the darkness. Nearly out of sight, hundreds of bubbles rose up from him, and they rushed past me. Unable to hold my breath much longer, strong arms pulled me back, and I burst up onto the surface and gave an exasperated gasp as Ishmael pulled me away.
“You can’t save him. Let him go.” He swam us back toward our raft, and reluctantly I gave in.
The warm sea lapped over my face, washing my tears away. I coughed into my hand to hide my sadness and then turned away from the last spot I had seen Nathan.
How many seconds passed I did not know, but with a rumble, the water around me shook, and a massive amount of water rose. The sound from a giant explosion deafened me, and the air quaked from the noise.
I fell back drained and semi-unconscious, drifting on the water on my back. I could no longer see the island. All I could see in all directions was open water. Everything had vanished from sight.
Strong arms lifted me up and pulled me back to our makeshift raft. I could make out Ishmael’s face, see his concern, but my tiredness rose up, and the darkness pulled me down into oblivion.
Epilogue
I woke to a light rain on my face. I fought to focus my eyes up at the gray slate of sky, and I shivered from the cool air. The sun, hidden behind all the clouds, hung low in the sky, and the ocean stretched out farther than I could see in any direction. Confused for a moment about where I was, a rush of thoughts came into my head.
“Nathan.” I spoke my brother’s name as memories of his capture returned to me. “And Zeke?” I turned to the solitary figure standing next to me with a somber expression on his face, tired from the burden of years on his shoulder from what he knew about the island.
“Both gone.” Ishmael turned toward me, and he covered me with a blanket of palm tree leaves he had scavenged from the sea. The cuts on his chest looked painful but not life-threatening “We’re in a shipping lane current now.”
From not shaving for days, his beard had come in thick with a sprinkle of gray. I turned away from him and stared out at the sea. On the back of our raft, were other useful items—some fruit, supplies, and another backpack—Ishmael had found from the sea. “You’ve been busy.”
He shifted his body and settled back onto the raft. “I found the wreckages of the Jeroboam and the Truelove not far out from the island.” He glanced back over his shoulder deep in thought and then said, “I took as many supplies as our makeshift raft could hold.”
“But you found no survivors.” I said the words matter-of-fact.
“None.” A splash in the water alerted me to the fact that he had an oar with him and pushed us away from the devastation left from where the island had once been.
“Did the island take them all?” I asked.
“There were only pieces left of both ships, and whatever destroyed them left no bodies. Nothing was left but flotsam.” I detected the hurt in his voice. “The ocean can be unforgiving.”
“And what about us?” I sat up and my head swam a bit, but I closed my eyes and pushed through. “Do we have a chance of being rescued?”
Ishmael nodded. “Perhaps if we have luck on our side.”
“But even if we are rescued, I never want to go back on the sea again…” I put my hand to my forehead and then remained silent.
“I tried to do that, but then you’ll be called to go back out.” Ishmael leaned in toward me, and his tone became more ominous. “I tried to forget everything I saw on the island, and it worked for a time, but then the call gets louder, and you must obey. Eventually you’ll go back, and look what it’s done to me.” He pointed at his chest, and the vicious wounds still were raw. “I thought I could help you, but I failed. You are right to try and forget all this, but it won’t last long. It never does. The curse has you now, and there’s nothing that you can do to break free.”
I let him speak, and after the silence drifted between us for a bit, I replied, “But you did resist in the end, and you saved us all. Otherwise we would have been captured.”
“Kanaloa let us go. And when it is your turn to return, then you’ll do so eventually.” He touched my bare shoulder and traced an invisible line on my skin. “Remember, in the cave? He lives within you too. We are his emissaries and bring back others to feed him. That is what we have been chosen for. And all my fighting and resisting didn’t help.” He stopped talking and concentrated on his rowing.
I shook him off of me and pointed defiantly at him. “Then I must fight. I can’t let myself be pulled back to do his bidding. I can’t. It’s not who I am.”
He interrupted me but lowered both his hands, signaling me to calm down. “It’ll all be different now. How you see the world and your connection to it will change. Your father has passed on his curse to you through his bloodline, and now the dark god’s tendrils within you only wait to be awakened. Once they are, then you will go to him as called.” His words drifted off, and he turned his face up toward the gray slate sky, letting the light rain fall on him. “Even now that I tried to pull his essence from me, I can still sense the island now even though it is so far away. A cord through the earth, to me, you, and all those who are like us. I tried to deny it for years like you did, but your bringing me here, well, that changed all that. I faced what I didn’t want to face, and now I’m back where I started all those years ago. We’ll go back now and try to live with the curse.”
I could not contain my anger any longer and erupted on him with my full force. “Live with it? We have the death of all those people on our hands. I chased after my brother across the globe, and we lost everyone. Not a single soul survived.” My self-loathing reached a fever-pitch, and then I lashed out on him. “And now, you think that I should just forget it all and live a normal life until I’m called to go back? I can’t do that. I can’t live that way.”
I stabbed him with my index finger, and then the tears started to come, but I swallowed hard and turned away. A bit of softness came out in me, but I wiped the tears from my eyes. Smartly, he did not respond and just let me be. I sensed his presence behind me, holding back, knowing that distance was what I needed best and simply an ear to listen.
“But you know what hurts the most?” I did not wait for him to ask and said, “The guilt. We left them there. We failed them all. They all wanted to live too, and we’re the lucky ones who escaped.”
Still Ishmael remained silent and listened.
I exhaled heavily and shuddered from a sob. Wiping my nose on the sleeve of my wet shirt, I flung my arm down and asked, “Why?”
My question rose high into the sky, and I imagined it floated up and up, onward and upward, until my faith broke, and the question crashed back down to earth, breaking the surface of the sea, traveling deep into the depths, searching for an answer that I did not have.
Gentle at first, but then
with more force, Ishmael said, “I know how you feel. I wondered why I was left alive and your father captured for many, many months. But my heart healed in time, and I thought to find him, but I chose not to. I tried to live on my own, to forget and put behind me all that had happened. At first, I thought maybe I had dreamed up all that I had seen, but I knew that I just lied to myself. I’m not the hero that everyone thinks. The man who survived the great white beast and the only surviving member of the Pequod. Your father sacrificed himself for me. And Kanaloa spit me out, let me live, and now I’m something more. Something that I don’t know if I’ll ever understand. But you offered me hope when I first saw you. No matter the obstacles, you still went to go find your brother. Nothing stopped you. Nothing.”
He finished and let the rest of the words hang silent between us. I turned back to him and said, “You’re testing me, aren’t you?” My eyebrow raised and a curious thought came to me. “If we go back on land and try to forget all this, we’ll eventually be called back by him, won’t we? Then there’s only one other option left to us. We must go find him now before we’re called back. That’s what you want to do, isn’t it?”
He allowed a small smile to appear in the right corner of his mouth, but he hid it quickly. “Yes. Either we live on land and wait until he calls us or we go because we choose to and fight him. You must make your own decision on what you should do.”
“I’m afraid. What should I do?” Before he could answer, I stopped him and shook my head. “No, wait. Don’t tell me, let me try something.”
He backed away from me to give me space. A slight smile on his face brought a tiny bit of hope back to my life and helped me to see my chance.
I put my hand in the ocean, closed my eyes, and let all the wild and crazy thoughts within me just be. I did not fight them. The guilt, pain, fear, and anger—I just allowed myself to be free. I did not know what lived within me, the connection I now had with the island, but I allowed all of it to wash over me like a cool spring rain, cleansing me.
At first, I felt nothing except the cool water on my hand, but then, like a tiny quiver of new life, I sensed a pulse far, far away on the other side of the earth. I did not cast any thought out into the sea but just remained receptive, listening to the island’s strong but distant pulse that mirrored mine. I imagined my father, Nathan, Josep, and Clarence in their cocoons with tentacles wrapped around them, keeping them safe for what purpose I did not know. And then Nathan opened his eyes and looked up at the tiny bit of light from the sun that could reach that far into the deep. I sensed the island, its vibrancy, and the life force of Kanaloa the dark squid god and that of Moby Dick all tied up in the world around me. Mixed emotions of fear and hope swirled within me. If I ran, eventually the call would defeat me, and I would follow. I’d do the bidding of Kanaloa and become a slave to him. But if I faced my fear and went on my own…
I pulled my hand out of the sea and faced Ishmael. “Will you come with me to find them?”
He nodded and still could not hide his smile. “Yes, I will.”
I turned toward the western horizon and prayed that far-off in the distance one of the many whaling ships would be headed our way. We would be found, rescued, and, in time, head back out on a ship again toward a tiny island that I could sense in the pit of my stomach and the depths of my heart. A sanctuary and home to the most vivid of nightmares. We would go back there to find and confront Kanaloa the dark squid god’s essence, and we would win or die trying.
Recklessness rose up within me, but I tempered my will and replied to Ishmael, “Good. Then we have a lot of work to do.”
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Sneak Peek of Lost
Everyone knows the fairy tale of Cinderella and the glass slipper, but what happened to her after she married the Prince?
Set in the late 1700s as Napoleon is rising to power, Cinderella embarks on a journey of self-discovery as she tries to come to terms with her new life. Her journey leads her to find her long lost Fairy Godmother and aids her to solve the mystery behind her mother's death. Yet the Fey Lord, the Silver Fox, and the witch Renée also take notice in her and suddenly her world is turned upside down…
Read the first chapter of Lost: Cinderella’s Secret Witch Diaries (Book 1):
To My Daughter:
Phoebe,
I wanted you to have my dairies so that you could learn what it was like after I married the prince and everything that came after that. To be honest, I’m a bit ashamed to share my diaries with you because I was only 19 years old when I started writing them. I had little schooling and my over exaggeration on my emotional state sometimes fell into the realm of histrionics.
But as I grew older, I slowly began to mature. But I’m not perfect. I have said and done things that I regret, but I choose to admit my mistakes, embrace them and over time have become a better person.
When I look back at how innocent I was, I have to smile. I loved with abandon. I gave my heart all away to someone who could never be there for me. I’ve learned so much since then, but I don’t want to ruin the story for you. It’s better if you read it all on your own.
I give these diaries to you freely and ask that you keep them secret. I hope and pray that you learn from them by seeing where I started out, who I grew up to be and then better understand the choices I’ve made.
Through it all, I hope you know that I love you. You are the light of my day and whatever may have happened, I am always thankful that I had you.
History will not be kind to me for what I have done, but please understand, I tried so hard to make it on my own. And even until today, with all that you think may be lost, I still love you.
With unending love,
Cinderella
January
January 2
Dear Fairy Godmother,
Although I am a fool to believe you will ever read these words, I begin this diary in the hope of reaching you. I need your help. Tonight is the twelfth anniversary of my mother’s passing, and I have decided to write to you because I am distraught and sorrowful. I wish that she were still here to comfort me, but she is not, and my heart still aches for her.
In the dozen years since my mother’s death, you are the closest I have come to a mother, as you once rescued me. I have need of your listening ear tonight, for my life is filled with uncertainty. I send these words out to you as a most fervent prayer. With magic beyond what I may know, I conjure the hope that my imaginary correspondence will take flight and that these words will whisper themselves to you as I share with you a story I have longed to tell.
On the night my mother died, she carried me into her bed, sick as she was, and held me close. Father was away on business, not to return for weeks. A fever had taken us, and I remember how weak I felt. Mother cuddled me in her arms and put a damp cloth on my forehead to cool me. I was soothed and settled back against her, listening to the crackling of the fire.
“Would you like to hear a story about the Silver Fox?” Her voice calmed me.
“Who is that, Mamma?” I asked.
“He is the Faerie Lord who visits our world from time to time to bestow magic on the land.”
I nodded and fought hard not to drift into sleep, unaware that this would be the last time my mother and I would be together. At eight years of age, I thought the world still such a beautiful place. She took the cloth from my forehead and began her tale. Over the years, I have forgotten some parts, but tonight I will retell the story to you in the hope of keeping my mother’s memory alive. If I stop writing and listen, I can almost hear her voice as she told me her tale …
***
“Once in a great while, the Faerie Lord came to the world of men and played in the grass and fields, looking for amusement and companionship.”
I looked up at my mother’s face and asked, “W
hat did he look like?”
“He resembled a fox. Yet his fur was not rust-colored but silver and bright.” She ran her fingers through my hair and glanced longingly out the window. “He chanced upon the house of a young woman who was unhappy in her marriage, for her husband was often away. On seeing her so sad as she dug in her garden, the Faerie Lord shifted into the body of a man and trundled down a hill, unused to balancing on two human legs. He rolled to an embarrassing stop and quite surprised the young woman.”
“How did the Faerie Lord change from a fox to a man, and was he hurt?” I woke up a bit and wanted to know.
“Men and faeries can be foxes inside, but his magic was strong and true, so he was unhurt.” She paused, and seeing me content with her answer, continued. “He rubbed a bump on his head and smiled at the young woman.
“Standing up and a little surprised, she brushed the dirt off her hands and asked, ‘Dear sir, are you well?’
“He smiled at her with a small devilish grin and winked. ‘I am now, for I have met you.’ He bowed and from out behind his back he handed her a bunch of wild flowers.
“‘I cannot accept these,’ she backed away and headed toward the house, ‘I am married.’
“He put the flowers behind his back, and they vanished from sight. He then bowed, but before taking his leave, he knelt and kissed the spot in the dirt where the young woman had been digging. She watched him go, and that night, in the hour before dawn, a beautiful pink rose bush grew and blossomed.
“The next day he returned and again offered her his smile and flowers. She again told him to go away, and he did, but again kissed the ground and whispered into the soil with a smile. The second night another beautiful rose bush grew next to the pink roses of the previous evening. On the third day, she expected his return, but he did not show himself. She wondered what had happened to him and secretly missed him, hoping he would come see her again.
