From the beach he stared out over the ocean. An orange glow highlighted the water as darkness pushed the sun over the horizon and the last wave of the day rippled across his feet. He felt the sand make one last pull, like a grainy mat being tugged out from beneath his feet. The ocean became still, and the constant sound of the tide was now quiet. Whales, dolphins, and other creatures of the sea screeched in agony. It was as if they knew something that Sam did not. He continued to get into his boat and started paddling deep into the silent waters. He knew if he went out just far enough, he might find a wave. Before he left, he promised his family just that. He would be the first to find a wave at nighttime. The air was becoming as stale as the water and the moonlight was shattered. The moon was broken. While a sizable chunk of the moon remained, the rest of it faded into a tail that stretched across the night sky.
The further he rowed, the darker it got. The shoreline was no longer visible. He rowed for what seemed like hours. He rowed and rowed, until an island came into view. As he approached, he saw dark figures appearing in the tree line, walking to the shore to meet him. Simply seeing other people was a reason for celebration. The figures waited for him, following him with their eyes as he approached.
“Who are you out there?” a voice yelled.
“Sam,” he said.
“And what are you doing out here, Sam?” the voice asked.
“Looking for a wave,” Sam said.
“A wave?” The voice laughed.
Sam’s felt a thump as his boat connected with the rocky beach. Two of the figures came out, pulling his boat ashore.
“He’s looking for a wave,” the tallest figure turned and yelled to the others.
There was a low rumble of laughs. In the spotty moonlight, Sam’s eyes adjusted as he made out the painted features of the ghostly white masks that every person wore. There was just enough light to make out their features. Tear drops, frown lines, angry faces. Every mask had unique features.
The people behind the masks spoke exactly as the emotion of their masks conveyed. Some were sad, some angry, some whiney and others happy.
“Why is this boy here?” the man in the sad mask cried.
“It’s God’s will. He has come to us to help with the sacrifice. Maybe, just maybe, God will bless us with waves again,” the leader in the angry mask said.
“God’s will? Help with the sacrifice?” Sam asked. “I’m sure science can explain what is going on with the waves.”
“Science?” the lead mask with angry features laughed. “There is no such thing as science. Science told us that gravity would cause waves. The pull between the earth and the moon. The moon is there, the waves gone. What does your science tell you about that?”
“Well, there has to be an explanation. That is why I am looking for waves. I promised my family, if they were out there, I would find them.”
The sad face helped Sam off the boat and escorted him to a small village in the center of the island. There were children lined up, all wearing masks. Sam felt like he was part of a parade welcoming home a champion.
“Do you think he can fix it?” a child in an angry mask asked.
“Of course,” the lead angry man said.
The lead angry man grabbed Sam and took him to a small hut. It looked like a box with bars all around it. It would securely hold whatever they decided to place inside. This time it was Sam. They opened the door of the hut, pushed Sam inside, and locked the door behind him. The villagers got into a line and formed a circle around the hut. Every single person in the village got into a line and spiraled around the hut. At the same time, they sat down with a grunt. Surrounding him on all sides, they stared right through him. One tall man in a happy mask dripped liquid in a circle around the hut. The smell of gasoline along with the sturdy bars separated Sam from the watchers.
“Under his watch!” they all screamed in unity.
Each person came up to spit at Sam through the bars, carefully stepping over the line of gasoline in their path. Only a few people hit him with their spit. Most were not very accurate. Being target practice made him even more uncomfortable than being their prisoner. It felt like an extreme hatred, a game of dehumanization of sorts.
The lead angry man was the last to take a turn to spit toward Sam, hitting him on his shoe.
“This is when you need to ask the gods, and the supreme god, for forgiveness. To bless our land is to give us waves again. We will starve if we don’t get them. No waves mean no fish. The water will become stagnant, and all will die. Meditate, think about it. The silence comes at night. It’s time for you to get some clarity. Forgive yourself for everything you have done that is bad. You will be sacrificed at dawn. It will be a glorious ceremony,” the lead man said.
“Me? Sacrifice?”
“Hush! You may not speak. I have spoken, and it’s time for the silence.”
Sam got quiet. He felt a shiver, but it was not from the cold. He knew if he couldn’t escape before morning, they would kill him — for waves.
“The waves come during the day!” Sam yelled.
“But they are not here at night! Now shut up!” the man in the angry mask screamed.
The silence began. Sam waited a few hours. The lights of the camp slowly burned out, one by one. He could only see the white paint on their masks as they tilted to their sides. Even as they slept, he listened to them snoring, watching different expressions staring back at him. There was no way to tell if they were asleep or awake. There were at least fifty of them. The number changed every time he counted. His mind was playing tricks on him. If he tried to break out, they would hear him, so he didn’t try.
“Hey,” a voice whispered.
Sam had already given up when he saw a little boy about two years younger than he was.
“My name is Freddy.”
“Nice to meet you Freddy,” Sam said, kicking some dirt around.
“Shhh,” Freddy said, placing his finger over his mouth. “My parents weren’t always this way, I promise. They were professors until they found the ancient book.”
“The ancient book?” Sam asked.
“Yes, follow me. I unlocked the back of the cage. We are going to get out of here together, tonight.”
Freddy started moving slowly and quietly out the back of the cage. Sam followed. They walked quietly through people sleeping and snoring, scattered all over the ground. They tiptoed through at least twenty of them, stepping over heads, legs, and arms. Freddy constantly turned back to place his finger over his mouth as a reminder to stay quiet.
“What are you–,” a voice said as a hand grabbed Freddy’s leg.
“It’s just me Freddy,” he said as the person seemed content with the answer and rolled over to go back to sleep.
They continued to move through the crowd like it was a pond full of sleeping alligators, ready to snap.
Then Freddy began to run. Sam followed Freddy’s and they ran hard through trees, brush, and sticks. There was a crackling underneath their weight with every step as they made their way to Sam’s boat. It was right where it had been pulled to shore. Freddy dragged it into the water and got it. He didn’t even wait for Sam. He shoved off into the ocean. Sam watched from the rocky beach. He froze as Freddy pushed his way out to sea. The sound of animals grew louder. Men, women, and children imitating the sounds of the forest, and they were approaching fast.
Freddy signaled with his hands toward Sam. Frozen, Sam stood there, staring blankly at Freddy. Finally, he looked up at the broken moon shining in the sky and sprinted toward the boat. As he stepped into the water, the boat got further from the beach. He jumped in far enough that he could swim to the boat. His entire body was in the water now. He felt a hand grab him firmly by the hair and it shook him a bit.
“Where do you think you are going?” the voice screamed.
He snapped his elbow back into the man’s head, knocking off the man’s mask. The man’s eyes were cloudy, but not so much that he couldn’t see. He left blood dripping down the man’s face into his eyes. As he broke loose from the man, he swam harder to the boat.
After a few strokes more, he felt rocks and debris coming down on top of him. He could hear Freddy’s voice calling out. A few rocks hit him in the head, forcing him under the water. He even gasped for air a few times. Every time he tried to breathe, he could feel the water trying to fill his lungs. Coughing uncontrollably, he kept trying to move until he felt a hand come down into the water and grab him by his shirt.
“I got you. Come on, you got it,” Freddy said as Sam slipped into the boat.
Sam continued to cough and gasp. They looked back at the torchlight from the beach and could hear the splashing of rocks not far behind the boat. Freddy had already picked up the oar and rowed, alternating sides to get as far from the island as possible. Soon the torch lights disappeared in the distance, leaving just the moonlight and all the stars. Surrounded by blackness, Freddy and Sam could only see each other in the weak light from the night sky. The darkness would guide them wherever it wanted to. It would surely be a surprise where they would wash up. There was nothing to do but row with no help from the waves and no sleep.
The morning sun awoke them both. To their surprise, they had both fallen asleep and they awoke to the gentle swaying of the boat.
“Waves,” Freddy’s voice quivered.
“Waves means fish, Freddy,” Sam said.
Sam reached down and pulled out a bag that had been tucked just inside the edge of the boat. He prepped a fishing rod. Then he grabbed some bait from a can that was in the bag. He tossed the hook with bait on it over the edge. It wasn’t long before they got a nibble. They were so excited they didn’t care that they couldn’t cook the fish. They took turns biting it, ripping it apart like they hadn’t eaten in months.
After their stomachs were full, they continued paddling. A few hours later, they could make out some land in the distance.
“What is that?” Freddy asked.
“It looks like an island,” Sam said.
The waves took them closer and closer until they washed ashore.
“Another island? No more islands. Let’s go back to sea, Sam,” Freddy cried.
“Where do we go Freddy? Maybe someone is on this island and they know how to get us back home.”
“Maybe they are as messed up– like my parents,” Freddy yelled.
“Either come with me or not,” Sam said.
Sam walked into the trees. He looked around for life, people, abandoned campsites, but saw nothing. Freddy followed closely, not wanting to be left alone.
After a few hours of walking, they kept finding themselves at the same spot on the island. The night sky soon made it impossible to see and with it, the sounds of nocturnal animals made their presence known.
“Let’s get back to the boat,” Freddy said impatiently.
“Ok,” Sam said, content that they had searched the entire island, not to find a soul.
They tried to retrace their steps toward the beach where they left the boat, and soon stumbled into it. They got in and slowly pushed themselves away from the shore. As they rowed, the sounds of the animals got louder.
“What’s that?” Freddy asked.
Sam looked up and stopped paddling. He saw about twenty masks staring back at them with different painted emotions. The masks lit up in torchlight that hadn’t been there moments prior. Rocks began to pommel the boat, but this was a different island.
Sam stared at the beach and lights and rowed out to sea as hard as he could. Freddy joined him, breathing heavily with each stride.
“That was not the same island Freddy!” Sam cried.
“No, it wasn’t,” Freddy said. “It had to be the ancient book. It appears to have made its way to this island as well.”
Sam felt relief as the lights disappeared in the distance. The darkness was back, but at least there were waves. He was certain that at least one full day had passed. He turned and sat down, looking at expression he could see of Freddy’s face.
“There is no escape,” Freddy said, discouraged. “Every effort destroyed by that book. And now we have waves again. Maybe the book really is holy. Maybe I was wrong to leave,” Freddy said.
Sam looked at Freddy’s white face as a sliver of moonlight continued to make its way through the clouds. He watched as Freddy reached into his unbuttoned shirt and pulled out something with a strap attached to it. Sam continued to watch as Freddy slipped on a mask, an angry mask.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Sam!” Freddy screamed in anger.
Sam grabbed the oar and struck Freddy in the head, knocking him overboard. Freddy’s hands were reaching up out of the water.
“Sam,” he gasped “Sam…”
Freddy’s hand reached up on the edge of the boat, and Sam froze. For a moment he thought he saw a glimmer of the real Freddy, so he reached down for his hand, just like Freddy had done for him back on the island. Freddy stabbed at Sam and connected. Blood was dripping from the middle of Sam’s left hand. The knife they had used to cut the fish was sticking out of it. As Freddy tried to grab onto the boat and pull himself aboard, Sam screamed. Blood gushed as he pulled the knife out, letting it fall handle side down into the water. Sam fell onto his back, on the boat’s floor and watched as Freddy pulled himself up over the side of the boat.
“You thought you could kill me?” Freddy screamed as he now stood above Sam.
Freddy’s hair was dripping wet and tears rolled down his face as he pulled another mask out of his pants this time. Slowly, he placed it over his face. It wasn’t the angry mask, but a sad one. With a cry of pain, he lifted the paddle high above his head.
“Why did you make me do this, Sam? I thought we were friends,” Freddy said.
Sam looked over at his fishing rod. The hook and fishing line was still attached. As Freddy swung the oar, Sam slapped Freddy across the face with the rod. The fishhook stuck in his face above his eye. Freddy dropped the oar, and a struggle for control ensued. There was a tussle back and forth and blood was dripping everywhere. Sam grabbed the oar firmly and shoved Freddy backwards. Then Sam reached for the oar as Freddy bounced off the boat, but Freddy’s grip took the oar overboard with him. Sam could only watch as both the oar and Freddy vanished into the water and into the darkness.
He looked down and saw the angry mask rising from the depths of the ocean. The sad mask lay there, staring up at him from the floor of the boat.
Exhausted, he curled up on the boat’s floor and fell asleep under the moonlight with the gentle rocking from the waves.
He awoke to the sound of voices. It was light outside and he could no longer feel the waves underneath him.
“He’s over there,” a voice yelled.
“Is he alive?” another asked.
Sam stood up and saw some people running toward him and the boat. He had washed up on a shore somewhere. The sound of the waves was strong and there was a cool breeze making him shiver.
“Sir, he looks like he is ok,” a man in uniform said.
Two police officers came over. One of them wrapped Sam in a blanket, the other reached down into the bottom of the boat. The officer with the blankets picked up the sad mask.
“What is this?” he asked.
Sam saw it and his face went white. The police officer gave him another blanket grabbed him.
“You are ok son,” the officer said.
“He’s just scared of clowns,” the other officer laughed.
They took him to the station, where he sat wrapped in blankets for what seemed like hours. They gave him a soda, and he waited to speak to a detective. The detective arrived a few hours later, grabbed a cup of black coffee from the coffee maker, and sat down next to Sam.
“I’m Detective Nichols. Where are you from?” he asked.
“Florida, sir,” Sam said.
“Florida?” Detective Nichols laughed. “Look, I’m trying to be informal here.”
“What’s funny about Florida?”
“You said you left home three days ago? And you called me sir. I’m too young for that,” he said.
“Yeah, sorry sir.”
“You said it again,” the detective laughed. “And you get from Florida to Maine? And you spend at least a day or half day on two different islands?”
“Yeah,”
“It’s not possible, kid. We contacted your parents. They don’t know how the hell it happened either. They got you a ticket home. You fly out in a few hours.”
“Ok. And my boat?”
“Don’t worry about your boat. Your parents just want you home and safe.”
Sam nodded.
Detective Nichols came back to take him to the airport a few hours later. He went through security, even had to take his shoes off. It was the first time he ever walked through a metal detector, but he had no metal on him, just a backpack that the police gave him with some clothes. He sat down in front of his departure gate, where the detective escorted him. They gave him a ticket and told him he would be in the first group of people to board because of his unique situation.
Sam told himself that flying on a plane would not be as bad as being out on the ocean with no waves, on scary islands, with scary people. Sam boarded and sat down in his seat. He continued to buckle his seat belt and watched all the pre-flight safety videos. There was a brief adrenaline rush from the takeoff, and then flight attendants came by and gave him another soda. Sam felt as if he was being treated like a king. But as the plane descended, he couldn’t wait to see his parents again.
He soon arrived at the airport, his mother and father were waiting for him. They were quiet and he figured he was in trouble, but he hugged them as hard as could anyway.
It was a quiet car trip home. His father didn’t say one word until he stepped into the house.
“You lost my boat,” his father said.
“I didn’t lose your boat, Dad. It’s in Maine.”
“That is the same thing as losing my boat, Sam. Do you know what that boat means to me?”
“I just wanted to find a wave, Dad.”
“What– are you a surfer now? Sam, the waves never went away. That’s the story you kept telling yourself. And the moon, it’s full. Not broken. How did you get to Maine in 3 days? That’s the question. Did you take a flight? Did you ride with someone? You gave us quite a scare.”
“I’m sorry, Dad. It won’t happen again. I’ll work hard to get that boat back for you.”
“You better. It’s going to cost a lot of money,” his father said.
“He just got home, honey,” his mother said as she shook her head from left to right.
“You are right, Liz. By the way, I found this in the bag of stuff they sent back with you,” his father said as he tossed something at his feet.
Sam looked down and saw the back of the mask. He remembered the sad face on the front. He slipped it over his head and stared into the mirror to remind himself of his impossible adventure. He saw an angry face staring back at him. Ripping the mask off quickly, he threw it across the room. It crashed against the door.
“What the hell was that, Sam?” his father yelled.
“That is not the mask I had in my stuff. I had a sad one,” Sam pointed at the mask on the floor.
His mother left the room and his father walked over to pick it up.
“I’m sorry, son, that’s mine,” his father said as he strapped it to his face and spoke in an angry but familiar tone. The voice sent a chill through Sam’s entire body. “We never got to perform that sacrifice, did we?”
Copyright © 2021 by Ryan Barnard-Stoker
originally posted on ryanbarnardstoker.com on AUGUST 16, 202111:46 PM
