All Who Wander

This story takes place in the dead of winter on a beach off Highway 1 just north of Santa Cruz, California.

She stumbled blindly across the sand. No moonlight to provide illumination, dark clouds shed bitterly cold tears onto her small frame. Her hair was soaked through, tossed this way and that by the fickle, stormy ocean winds. She wrapped her arms around herself, fingers grasping weakly at the soaked hospital gown clinging to every curve of her petite body. She stumbled again, bare foot meeting something sharp hidden in the sand. She stared at her hospital wristband in frustration. "Jane Doe". Who was she?
She didn't even know her own name. She sank to her knees in the sand, curled up, and cried. Where was home? Did she have a family? Is there anybody loving her, waiting for her return? Her memories were disjointed. The only clear memory was waking up in a hospital bed, panicking because there was an IV in her arm, and leaving. She'd bit her lip so hard it bled when she'd pulled the IV out. Standing up proved a challenge at first; she'd fallen in a heap on the floor. After several minutes, or an eternity, she was able to pick herself up, and simply walked out of the hospital. She'd been refreshed by the crisp air and started walking. Somehow she'd ended up on a beach. Somehow she'd ended up on her knees. Somehow she ended up soaked in rain and sea spray, shivering alone, lost, and desolate. On the dark beach, she felt like the only creature alive on earth. She felt like there was no where to belong.

He strode quickly across the sand, oblivious to the wind and rain tearing at him. Anger, frustration, and despair tore through something so much deeper that the elements could not penetrate through his pain. He was just a boy. Tall and thin. Even in agitation, his body spoke of an innate grace; his tumultuous emotions caused him to move like a predatory feline. He'd done something earlier in the night to hurt a girl who was very dear to him. His anger and disappointment were directed toward himself. He had been unable to sleep and climbed out of his bedroom window into an evening that seemed to match his own mood. He'd started jogging, with no destination in mind, but inexplicably drawn to the ocean.
He mentally berated himself for his actions. For hurting the person he cared for the most. For breaking her trust. For losing her forever.
A figure several yards away caught his eye in the gloom. His fanciful imagination wondered if the creature had walked out of the ocean. It was small, effeminate, dark brown hair dyed black by the rain. It was not a fantastical creature, for it stumbled. He started jogging towards it. His heart raced as he watched it stumble once again and fall down to its knees. He sprinted the rest of the distance and knelt down hard in front of it with a shower of wet sand. It seemed the creature was a girl. She was huddled in a kneeling fetal position, sobbing. He took his jacket off and put it around her shoulders. She looked up at him with shimmering almond shaped eyes. Her eyes looked as black as her hair in the dark night and he felt himself fall into the deep abyss sparkling with almost-shed tears. In those eyes he felt her desolation, her confusion, her loneliness; he felt how lost she was. Without knowing why, or how, he knew he wanted to save her.

Her shoulders and back were surrounded by warmth suddenly. She raised her head, forgetting about her sobs, and saw a boy kneeling in front of her. His long hair was matted down at the top of his head but the ends curled in quirky defiance to gravity. The curls reached the nape of his neck in the back, in the front, they kissed his cheekbones. She met his eyes with hers and took in a shuddering breath. Warm brown eyes gazed at her with concern under worriedly knit brows. She let him pick her up by her elbows to help her back to her feet. Then, to her surprise, he wrapped his arms around her. She snaked her bare arms out from the warmth of his coat to wrap them around his waist. The cold did not bother her anymore. They stood in the rain, listening to the raging storm and crashing ocean.

He gently kissed the top of her wet hair, stroking it gently, and caressed her back through his jacket.

She lay her head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat. She reveled in the feel of his arms around her. Unthinkingly, she whispered just one word into the night.

"Home."

The word was stolen by the maelstrom and carried through the whirling winds, through the thick clouds, through inky black skies, and up to the stars.

Reviews

[Kaity >^..^< Kat]

I think I called it that in reference to Tolkien's famous line "Not all who wander are lost" as a subtle way of foreshadowing for those who'd catch the allusion.

Both characters are portrayed as very obviously "lost" - one literally and one emotionally.

[asdf]

If I may ask; why is it named 'All Who Wander'?

Seems to me that 'Home' is the appropriate title, and I'd be interested to know why not.