Eric--Part Four

Four

   As Eric was walking, trying to follow in his own footsteps, the light was getting brighter and the mist was getting thicker. After a few minutes, he couldn't see his feet any more and so he couldn't tell if he was retracing his steps. So he squatted down to make sure he was following his previous path. But when he finally achieved sight of the sand, it was smooth before him with no indentations. There were no marks to his left or to his right. But he knew that behind him would have to be the trail that he had just made. Still squatting, he swiveled around to look in that direction. There was a slight trail, but as he looked at it he saw that sand was sliding down the sides of the furrows he had been making with his feet and filling them in. He felt confused because there was no wind to be moving the sand. And yet, as he watched, the grooves filled with sand until the trail behind him was erased and the sand was smooth and trackless all around him.

   Tired and hungry, Eric had no idea of what to do now. He took the chair from over his head and placed it on the sand. The light above was so bright that he could no longer see five different stars. There seemed to be one bright sun hanging directly over his head. He took his knapsack off his back, sat down in his chair, held the sack on his lap and lay his head down, trying to bury his face in the heavy cloth and escape from the fierce glare. He closed his eyes and cupped his hands at his temples to try to give himself as much shade as possible. That cut down on the glare quite a bit and helped him to relax so that he could try to think how would be best to proceed.

   He listened but still there was only silence. So his two senses of sight and hearing wouldn't help him to find his way home. There was nothing that the senses of smell, taste or touch would be able to do to get him there either. So what should he do? He'd have to wait a little and see what happened. Whatever this weird light was, it probably wouldn't last too long (he hoped). But the silence was confusing. He should be able to hear the sea. Even if it wasn't very loud, it was always there in the background. And at this time of evening there were always insects, and they weren't usually soft either. And this close to the beach there was usually a breeze that made a whispering noise on the sand. He strained his ears for the tiniest, slightest sound that he could hear.

   And there was something. A small plop of liquid falling onto something....Or maybe not. He held his breath in an attempt to hear it again. But no - there was nothing. He had shut his eyes tightly and clenched his jaw in his effort at listening, but no sound penetrated his awareness. So he relaxed them again. And, as he was letting out his breath, he heard another small plop.

   He brought his head up and opened his eyes at the same time. But everything had changed. There was no glaring light. The mist had thinned and seemed to be fading away. That was alright. It was even reassuring. But he was no longer sitting in his canvas beach chair and that was slightly disturbing. He was sitting on something hard and smooth. It looked white in the mist. He put his arms out and his knapsack almost fell off his lap. He grabbed it with his left hand and his right banged against the hard side of his seat. It was a wide arm with sharp corners. He could also feel sharp corners where the backs of his legs rested against the chair.