Called Away

Two boys and a parting of their ways.

    “What if there’s nothing there?” asked the slender boy as he shuffled through mounds of tiny pebbles.
    “Well, I won’t know ‘til I get there, will I?”
    “But you’ll get lost…”
    “That I may,” came the reply. He was struggling with the heavy wooden boat, the hull thickened by the previous night’s rainstorm, bedecked with fronds of seaweed. “Give me a hand.”
    Gradually the black, lumpen, barnacled vessel began to shift in the stones, carving a route through the beach, which parted like slow water.
    The morning was dull and clouded; deep green surrounding hills were heavy with expectation as they witnessed the two figures below. A single gull, unseen, screeched a warning from a far off place, while each retiring wave pulled a crackling hiss from the mass of pebbles at their feet. Back in the village, there was a light on in one of the houses. Probably Mrs. Mullen, they had surmised, up at dawn to make her porridge and sit with her cat. She wouldn’t be looking. She was half blind, half deaf and took notice of no more than she wished to.
    “Come on, push it!” Urged the boy.
    “It’s going.”
    At length the bow met the foaming white surf and was lifted, lessening the grinding, scraping return from the grudging shore. It nodded with the waves, pulsing and pushing, compelled to cast into the surging greyness.

    “Don’t,” said the boy.
    “I must,” said the other.

    They had both heard it the night before. Amidst the wailing of the wind and crashing of waves on the rocks. The rain had been hitting their bedroom windows with a fierceness and all living things that could, had found a hole, a rocky cleft in which to hide from the storm.
It had come like a call for help, a pleading appeal; sung, not shouted through the raging bliss of squall. Both had lain awake, eyes wide open, hearing the unrelenting entreaties with ears pursuing sound after sound along the sand-smacked coast. The words were lost to the weather, but the pleading was always the same.
       
“Come, come.
Please come to save us.
We are of the sea.
The mermaids are we.
You must come or we shall surely die.”

With a final, sloshing rasp, the boat sliced into the water and the boy jumped aboard.
    “Be back for tea. And tell me all about them,” the slender boy pressed.
    His friend was already rowing away.
“Aye,” he replied, “that I may.” and he pulled away from shore.

The slender boy watched. He watched until the boat and its captain became vague and opaque. He watched, though the wind pulled hard at his coat and muddled the hair on his head. He watched as his friend became part of the sea.
Turning, he trod heavily back up the shingly slope, and looked up in time to see the light in the village turn softly out.

Reviews

[Chantal-lise Mirman]

What a wonderfully rich tapestry you weave! Against the evocative backdrop of a beach described to the smallest detail and the echo of the mermaids/selkies/sirens, there is a simply-told story of two boys. Though we are not privy to the outcome of the young mariner's search, it has marked the end of an era for the boy left behind, who will forevermore think of the road not taken.

While this is a lovely vignette, a snapshot of coastal life, I can easily imagine it as part of a larger book including the implications of this boyhood choice.

Your powers of description are superb and your choice of language, succulent. I am in love with this wistful tale...

[Raef C. Boylan]

" �Don�t,� said the boy.
�I must,� said the other. " - if you follow speech with 'said', 'called', 'yelled' etc, there can't be a full stop at the end of the dialogue; has to be ',' or '!' or '?' etc.

Just re-viewing this.
Hi.

[Narnie]

Please can you write some more? :)

It's an interesting mix - the boys with the mermaids so it's hard to see which direction it would take. I would so love to read more. As ever your work is so moody and has such precise description that it is effortless reading. Fab stuff Andrew.

[Raef C. Boylan]

I have a bad feeling about those 'mermaids'...
Whether it be a parting of ways in terms of one journeying and one nor, or of death, or maturation (young boys and their mermaid fantasies...lol)...we know not.
Is there more of this to come?
It's perfect as it is, yet i have reader curiosity.

"Probably Mrs. Mullen, they had surmised, up at dawn to make her porridge and sit with her cat. She wouldn't be looking. She was half blind, half deaf and took notice of no more than she wished to." - you tell us so much about the lifestyle of your villagers in just these two sentences; she hasn't much to look forward to, and they know all about her routine.

You're a fine storyteller; this piece is full of great language and descriptions, keeping it all vivid and interesting for us.

The grammar of it is near-perfect. I am not sure if this is part of your writing style, or errors, but the capitalisation of "asked" in this sentence:
" ?What if there's nothing there?" Asked the slender boy " isn't needed, and the same rule goes for much of the dialogue in your story -
" "Don't." Said the boy " - this should be: "Don't," said the boy.
if you want it to be very abrupt and final, you could go for something like:
" "Don't." This from the slender boy.
"I must," said the other. "

Overall, a brilliant piece of writing.
I was kept absorbed and intrigued for the duration of the story.

Thanks for posting this.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

Very nice, very very nice. Every word has a purpose and a place. Nothing awkward here. Your words are wonderfuly descriptive. The hook is subtle, but it sinks deep. I too want to hear of his travels, I want to hear of the mermaids. Were they as lovely as I imagine them? What horrible evil threatens their lives. God I wanted to jump into the skiff with him!

I give this the highest of grades, except I hate it because it left me twisting in the ocean breeze damn you !!

[An Ordinary Woman]

This story is a fabulous read. How exciting for both boys, a journey neither one will ever forget and each for their own reasons.

I can see looks on their faces, the wonder in their eyes and their determination of doing something so daring and brave! The excitement of being called out on a mission of such importance makes this story a true wonder to all.

Amazing that each boy is only known by simple descriptions "the slender boy" and "the boy"... but in my opinion it works perfectly because the reader's imagination fills in the blanks. Actually, it adds to the suspense.

I can really appreciate the details of the old woman, she lends the story charm and suspense. I like how you described her, I can easily see her watching her cat and missing everything going on in her surroundings which sounds so typical and fits in well with the story line.

I read through twice and if there are any grammar errors, I sure didn't see any. I hope that you wont mind that I already submitted this to the "union of readers."

Your a wonder, Andrew ! Job well done!!

I can easily see this being a book and if it were I would mos def buy it!