Part of the sun had now dropped behind the mountains and the water had become dark gray. I started to turn back to the trail when a shadowy, skinny figure popped into view in the water. It was sort of in the blurred shape of a boy and maybe 200 feet out with what looked like thin arms flailing over his head. I had no idea how I hadn’t seen him when I first came down here, but he bobbed up and down over the waves like a bottle tossed to sea and I hurried to the shoreline.
And then he was gone.
He hadn’t drowned; he’d just vanished into the horizon like a magic trick.
I scratched the back of my head. Had I really seen anything? I’d been up since 4:00 a.m. with the move and it probably wouldn’t be hard for the sun and water to get my mind to play tricks on me. I stared out there for another minute and then went for a walk down the beach.
When I got home I set up my computer desk and laptop in the patio room and tried to do some outlining, but after an hour I gave up. Nothing solid was coming to me—just glimpses of ideas that I couldn’t get a hold on. I got up, went to the fridge, and grabbed one of the Budweisers from the six-pack I’d brought with me before wandering back outside. The sun was setting now and I leaned against one of the big rocks as I savored the beer. Afterwards I went back to the computer but still couldn’t get anything going. I leaned back in my chair and my eyelids got heavy. The next thing I knew I’d woken up to the late morning sun shining over the beach.
I showered, had a quick breakfast of eggs and toast, and then headed out to the beach to get a jog in. When I got back to where the hill’s path met the beach I stopped cold. The blurry boy-like shape was thrashing around in the water again..
And then I noticed that no water was splashing around him. It was as smooth as the rest of the sea. Like he wasn’t even there.
And then he wasn’t.
Like yesterday, he hadn’t drowned and he hadn’t swam away. He’d just vanished into the horizon of sea and sky.
I went back up to the cabin, grabbed a beer, and went back to the computer. I was positive I’d seen a kid out there this time, but that was impossible. I shook my head and took a good swig. As if the writing wasn’t hard enough, I now had a vanishing drowning boy stuck in my mind
Just drink more beer and get back to work.
Two hours later I still had nothing.
I ran my hands through my hair and looked out at the water. The waves were a little lower today and a couple of seagulls trotted along the sand past the cottage. Screw it, break time.
I went outside and about halfway down the trail, I froze. A set of child-sized foot prints ran from the water to the trail. I looked back up at the cottage but saw no one. My heart beat a little faster as the wind picked up with a bit of a chill. I walked to the water’s edge and stared at it closely. I then turned away and went back up to the cottage. The sun had dropped a bit and an orange light ran over the dimmed sunroom. Taking another beer from the fridge, I quickly went through the cottage, but there was no one here. I went back outside and hurried down the hill. A few goose bumps popped up on my arms as I started walking next to the second pair of footprints.
I decided a trip to the market might help normalize things a bit.
I went back up the hill and through the cottage to the Jeep. I’d seen a place yesterday called Seaside Foods a couple of miles from here. Firing up the Jeep, I backed away from the cottage and headed towards it. After a few minutes I could see the market along the side of the road, and I drove up to a dusty parking lot that looked like it could only handle eight or ten cars at a time. Parking the car, I got out and walked towards the entrance. There was a row of green carts at the front of the store and I grabbed one as I walked in.
The place was great—a ton of fresh fruits and veggies, a nice bread section, and a little butcher counter with some nice-looking cuts of beef and fish. I spent about twenty minutes picking out what I wanted and grabbed a couple six-packs of fancy-looking microbrews from the cooler. I headed to the checkout back at the front of the store and a gray-haired man with tan, weathered skin smiled as I started putting things on the counter.
“How you doing today, son?” he asked.
“I’m great. How about you?” I asked as I set the beer down.
“I’m doin’ just fine. Haven’t seen you here before. Are you new to the area?”
“Yeah, I am. I’m renting a cottage on the beach for the summer.”
“Oh, yeah. Which one?”
“Um, it’s at the far edge of the beach, can’t remember the address right now. I just moved in yesterday.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “A white-and-blue place?”
“Yep, that’s it,” I said.
“Well, I’ll assume you got a good deal on the place.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You don’t know the history?”
“No, I don’t.”
The man shook his head. “Damn shady realtors. That figures. Well, about nine
