Look for the driftwood.

A Story by Jessi

Remember the driftwood

Numbly my shaking fingers trace the river of scars flowing down my arm. A cool breath from the sea caresses my face, softly. The touch of it so tender and I imagine for just a moment that it is a hand. A safe touch, like the touch I crave. And then my eyes open to the intense contact of strange, peculiar grey.
I gasp, turning my head at the intrusion. Forced entry upon my fleeting safety."I'm sorry, I just..." He says. Hastily I rise from the green earth I sit on. I had come here searching for safety, but now I realized it had been a mistake. Safety doesn't exist for people like me. For messes like me.
"Wait a moment, please."
My feet stumble clumsily through jagged rocks and broken wood. The lullaby of Sea Gulls had tantalized me, drawing me in toward the rippling water.
He is following me. My heartbeat becomes erratic. I hide from people, from curious eyes. This ruined person I had become by my own doing, by trusting and wanting someone to see me. "Go away!" My voice escapes me, like the frantic sound of the sea. A storm is coming. The sea knows.
"Please, for me, stop."
I turn to see what the intruder wants. As grey eyes investigate me - my filthiness and torn clothing I flinch.
"What?" Speaking is a strange sensation. I haven't spoken in so long. I've had nothing to say.
Not a soul heard me when I did. I begged for love, for relief, for anything to numb the pain. The scars on my arms burn as if the needle is finding its burrow all over again.
"You need me to touch you."
"What?" I step back. "What are you doing?"
"Let me touch you."
His hand reaches out, mangled like a piece of driftwood. Knobby, with long crooked fingers. Bubbled and discolored. His eyes are intense, searching me.
The storm begins to settle in. Rain pelts down. Silence alerts me to the knowing that we are the only ones here. Fear grips my throat tighter.
"I don't let anyone touch me."
The mangled hand moves slowly, reaching for mine. I stare at it, in amazement and stricken by its deformity.
"I know. But you need to. Trust me."
Lightening strikes not too far away and I jump, stumbling toward him.
"I don't trust anyone. Leave me alone."
I tell myself to run but my feet won't move.
Like a magnetic pull my hand lifts and finds its way to his.
The hand is rough, just as driftwood is. Damp and strange, the bones contorted beneath skin. And I feel electricity shoot through me. I release it as lightening strikes near and blinds me with its flare.
"Take hold." And just as thunder cracks and lightening dances around us, I do, terrified.
The storm is gone.
The sky turns blue.
Clouds run and hide.
The sea calms.
I glance for the hand I had been holding, searching for twisted dark fingers. Instead lies a piece of driftwood in my hand, wet and oddly resembling a hand. I'm torn from staring at it as I hear a squeal, startling me.
A little girl in a blue dress is running down the shore, letting water chase her feet and soak the hemline. She must be only six or seven, with two braids trailing over her shoulders.
She is twirling now in the sun, laughing.
"Alisha!"
A man is running after her, wearing khaki shorts and a grey shirt. As he nears the little girl he catches her up in his arms and spins her around, both of them laughing. I smile, too, until the smile is torn from my face by greedy, cold hands.
His face is beautiful. Grey eyes...so similar to the man who's hand had been disformed like driftwood. In fact, those are the same eyes. Unmistakable and beautiful. I sink to my knees.
Daddy.
He places the little girl down onto the ground.
My heart is aching. Throbbing lungs beg for mercy. I'm crippled by what I see.
She's so innocent, so beautiful. That little girl with her messy braids and giggles, who's eyes have never seen a real monster, her hands have never touched one. She doesn't know that monsters really do exist, and that Daddy won't be there to turn the night light on. All she knows is this, love and warmth.
She's me.
As my shaking legs try to step forward I fall. Something .will not let me mover closer. I try to scream for my Daddy, but nothing comes out. Doesn't he see me?
Daddy sinks down onto his knees beside her - beside me.
"Lish, will you listen to me for a minute?
She nods, running tiny fingers through sand.
"I need you to listen, baby girl. If...one day I'm not here and you can't hear me, or feel me, come to the sea. Okay? Come here to this spot and look for the driftwood and find a piece that looks most like my hand. See, look at my hand. I need you to remember what it looks like."
Strong, with beautiful marks of hard work.
My breath hitches. I remember now. How could I have forgotten this? How could I forget his face?
Daddy holds out his hand and her small one traces it, his fingers, the scar on his left thumb, and sturdy knuckles and creases.
Tears slip from me, salty and icy, as if from the sea itself.
He knew. Daddy knew.
"Grab onto it as tight as you can and close your eyes, listen to the sea. Hold it so tight like you'll never let go. You'll hear my voice, and I promise...when you hold that piece of driftwood it will be my hand, Lish. I'll be holding yours back."
He lets my hand go and I turn and begin splashing the water. He watches me play in it before walking down the way, crying. I wish I had known what he was saying.
Something shifts and the sky begins dimming.
Lightening flashes ahead. I'm running out of time, with each tick a fierce strike.
She turns, afraid, looking for him, but sees me. She can see me!
I run to her and kneel onto the wet ground.
"You are a very pretty little girl."
She smiles, shyly looking away.
"I want to tell you something, okay?"
"K."
"Your daddy loves you very, very much. You are so lucky to have him. I want you to go hug him and hold him so tight - the tightest you can, and tell him you will always look for the driftwood. Will you do that?"
She nods, starting toward him.
"Lish, wait. Look at me."
She turns, piercing me with innocence and purity, without damage and scars.
I study her. That girl is still somewhere in me. I feel her breathing within me once again.
"Remember, Lish, that darkness runs from light. And there is always a nightlight in here." I place my hand to her heart.
Lightening strikes again. The sky is almost completely grey.
"Run, tell him that you will always look for the driftwood! Always!"
She runs wild, blue dress dragging in the muddy water. I see her run into his arms and wrap her little ones around his neck. I see her little lips telling him, and he cries harder into her neck. Daddy holds her close and I watch, feeling his arms around me. I can feel it, the warmth of him. I cling to the scent of him, as if the sea and sun and light colognes him.
A flash strikes blinding me again, and they are gone. I'm alone by the sea soaked in rain. My fingers tighten around the driftwood...And I see the color of Daddy's eyes in the sea. I hear his voice in the wind.
"I see you, Daddy. I see you."
The little girl in the blue dress giggles as she holds the driftwood to her heart.

© 2016 Jessi

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Reviews

JayceeC

This story is very touching. Maybe because my own father died when I was a child, I connected with the thought of him always being there--a personal night light to illuminate the darkest hours. You did this well throughout the story, using the driftwood as a physical symbol and the sea as constant and endless as love itself.
The only thing you really need to watch is your verb tense changes. The first one happens in your opening lines and weakens the story, since those lines bed too drag your reader in. Overall though, this was well written with an easy to read style.