TALES OF LOST GODS AND FRAGILE TRANSFORMATIONS: The Fat Guy Gets The Girl

 

By

Al Bruno III

Dedicated to Francis Hogan

BEGIN TRANSCRIPT

Does that light have to be so bright? Yeah. Yeah. For the cameras… I get it. No I don’t need a lawyer. I’m just sorry you guys couldn’t wait until I get out of the hospital.

Where do you want me to start? But you know that already. …right the video record.

Ok. Ok. My name is Adam H. Drahm… I’m 18, almost 19 really.

I know I look older; it’s the weight, the only good thing about pushing 300 pounds is that I never get carded… I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that to policemen… I mean a policeman and a woman…what I mean is a policewoman and a policeman … I mean police detectives… sorry.

Yes Detective Connelly I am ready to go on… I’m just kinda… it’s kind of jumbled in my head but I know what happened. And I’ll tell you everything. I don’t want there to be any questions or doubts about what happened. So let’s get started.

There were six of us. There was me, Kev and Jenny, Laurie and Mark, and Alice. We were in my Hummer heading out to a camp on Schroon Lake…

The Hummer, well it was my Dad’s really but he let me borrow it. He was just glad to see me out with my friends. What? You’re surprised they were my friends? The most popular kids in the school and the fat kid don’t mix, is that what you think?

Look, for as long as I’ve been able to put two thoughts together I’ve known I was overweight. When the other kids in Kindergarten won’t play on the see-saws with you, you start to realize a few things. It’s just that I decided a long time ago that fat or thin I wasn’t going to be a punch line.

Yeah a punch line, like every stupid comedy movie- the fat guy never gets the girl he just gets laughed at. That’s not me. No matter what else I am that will never be me.

It’s like my Dad always told me that you can get whatever you want in this world. You just have to really want it and you have to be patient.

And Dad should know. He is filthy rich after all.

Oh, I totally admit my Dad being filthy rich helped open some doors for me, but money can only get you so far. That’s not why the cool kids let me be part of their group, I’m sure of that.

Anyway, I was driving. We were going to camp out by the shore, a little post prom celebration. I had us all kitted out with a portable gas grill and tents and a portable TV… yeah roughing it. We had to make a lot of u-turns to get there – I kept missing the turnoff to the camp.

…no I had never been there before and I was kind of mad that Kev was making fun of the music I was listening to.

I mean since when is Liz Phair not relevant? She’ll be around a lot longer than any of these teenyboppers that are on the radio these days. Alice always reminded me of Liz, maybe that’s why I liked her.

Yeah I liked her. And I think she liked me, at least a little. After all it was pretty much two couples, and me and Alice. The numbers seemed to be in my favor. Plus she was pissed off at her boyfriend Tom. He was back in rehab again so she had ended up going to the prom with me. Good thing I was planning to go stag anyway.

I knew this was it. It was time for me to make my move. I’d been waiting years for a chance like this. She was really going to kick him to the curb this time for good, I was sure of it. I mean why else would she volunteer for us to use his family’s camp? Sheesh, they call it a camp, it was like an acre of primo lakefront property with a cabin and a boat dock and God knows what else.

…yeah, yeah we were totally trespassing but we knew no one would catch us. Tom was off getting clean and sober and his parents weren’t using the place because there was some kind of toxic mold in the cabin. I guess they were waiting for some kind of special toxic mold guy to come and clean it out.

So we were arguing about Liz Phair and finally Alice gets me to go the right way and we are bouncing up the dirt driveway past Tom’s parents’ toxic cabin. A little bit later we were unpacking our gear by the lakeside.

Well, I was unpacking, the others went skinny dipping. No I didn’t mind, I wasn’t ready to go flapping in the breeze before Alice just yet. Besides, someone had to set up the grill and the Xbox. Hey, as I was working I saw quite a lot and the weekend was just getting started. After they got done swimming we did the barbecue thing and everyone had a few beers. I couldn’t help but notice that Alice was having more than a few.

As the sun went down I offered to fire up the Xbox but the others were more interested in starting a campfire and mellowing out. They asked me to set up the tents since I was the only one with Boy Scout experience… which isn’t really true I only made it to Webelos before I got thrown out…

…I kinda punched out the Scoutmaster.

Come on, how many years of being called ‘Piggy’ can a kid take?

What? Oh… Yeah I got the tents out of the Hummer and got to work while the two couples started making out by the firelight. Alice came over to help me. We started talking about finals and stuff. She asked me if I thought I was going to make it through the History final, “Sure,” I said, “Mr. Zick’s finals are all multiple choice and he always has the right answer be an even number. He’s like obsessive compulsive or something. Remember that and you’re sure to get at least get a ‘B’. Oh and study the notes on Rome, he’s crazy for Rome.”

Alice shrugged as I handed her one end of the groundsheet for the first tent, we set it down on a relatively even patch of ground. “Well I don’t think I was paying as much attention as you. Maybe you should come over Tuesday night and we could go over your notes.”

“Sure,” I looked up from securing the groundsheet to the tent pegs and tried to sound calm. I was down on one knee as I worked; I looked like I was ready to ask her to marry me. “I’d like that.”

“I’m really glad you came,” she smiled down at me, she had a great smile.

I told her, “I know it’s no fun being the fifth wheel.”

“How many tents are there? Two?” She asked while I had her hold the tent pole steady.

“Yeah,” I said while fastened the tent’s skin into place, “A boy’s tent and a girl’s tent.”

She started laughing then, I tried to laugh along but then I asked, “What? What’s so funny?”

“Take a look back there,” She pointed to the campfire, to Mark and Laurie and Jenny and Kev. Things had kinda gone beyond the cuddling stage and there was some full-on making out going on. Shirts were getting loosened and waistbands were getting un-tucked. Alice said to me, “You think they’re gonna want to sleep boy girl? Are we kids in summer camp?”

The tent drooped as I realized what she meant, “I never thought…”

“Well you wouldn’t,” she was holding her sides from laughing.

“What the Hell does that mean?”

And I must have sounded pretty pissed because she became sweet again, “Well, I mean you’re so nice and innocent. That’s one of the things I love about you.”

Blushing and smiling I got the two tents set up and Alice and I decided to crash in the Hummer. When I offered to sleep outside she said I could put my sleeping bag next to hers.

I said, “You realize this means we’ll be sleeping together?”

We had a good laugh at that.

With the tents up we made our way back to the campfire, Kev and Jenny had wandered off into the woods, Mark and Laurie were sharing a beer and stargazing. There was no moon and somehow the familiar constellations were so bright they were like fireflies hovering just out of reach. Mark said, “We should a brought some fireworks, it’s too quiet.”

“I like the quiet,” Alice said, “I think sometimes we all talk too much.”

“Yeah” I agreed.

“It’s like we talk just to talk.”

“Yeah”

“But we don’t really say anything.”

“Yeah,” I agreed again.

Mark’s reply was a long forced belch, Laurie thought it was hilarious. After that they staggered off to one of the tents, undressing each other as they went.

“Well…” I said, “there’s fireworks…”

Alice smiled at me, “And then, there are fireworks! Come on, I want to show you something.”

She took me by the hand and led me into the woods. Not the same part of the woods where I could hear Jenny’s voice coming in short gasps. It seemed like there was sex everywhere and it looked like I was going to get some. I mean I wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of doing it outdoors but God hates a coward right?

Right?

Like I said Alice took me by the hand and led me into the woods… away from the lake, away from the cabin – we had to go up a little hill. It was steep but I didn’t get winded until about halfway to the top. I wasn’t about to slow up or let her know, but I did let her get a little bit ahead of me on the hill. But that kind of had its own rewards.

After about ten minutes it was like the trees parted in front of us and there was this clearing.

Well it wasn’t like a natural clearing. It was like it was a place where the trees just wouldn’t grow. They just stopped, and the trees that bordered the clearing… how do I describe it? Whatever side of the tree that faced the clearing was bare, no branches or leaves -there wasn’t even any grass, just dirt.

Maybe it was one of those places where they dump toxic waste. Maybe it was more of that toxic mold that ruined Tom’s parents’ cabin. Whatever it was, it wasn’t very romantic. Not that it mattered to me really, I was so wound up.

There was this big black rock in the middle of the clearing. It looked kind of like a coffin. It was pretty shiny – the starlight almost seemed to ripple across the surface of it like it was water or something. It kind of looked volcanic.

But that was crazy because there are no volcanoes in upstate New York.

I asked her, “What is this place?”

It was dark but I could just catch her smile, she was holding tightly on to my hand,

“Creepy isn’t it?”

“It’s something all right.” I turned to face her. I’d been rehearsing this kiss in my mind for years. It was now or never. Then she started walking, almost dragging me over to the slab of stone.

She touched the black stone the way people touch their Grandpa’s tombstone, “Tom and I found it last summer when we were out walking. No one knows where it came from.”

“Tom’s not here,” I blurted. I still don’t know what made me say that. She let go of my hand and crossed her arms over his chest.

I remember thinking to myself- So this is what it feels like when an opportunity slips away. I tried to salvage things. I remember asking her, “How do you think it got here?”

“Maybe it fell from space?” She chuckled at that, “Maybe it was always here.”

“Maybe this place used to be owned by a crazy rock collector.”

“Yeah…” She looked away from me, back towards the camp. I thought then that maybe I was freaking her out because I was standing so close and looking at her so hard.

“Alice…” I think my voice broke a little, “Alice you don’t know how much…”

But I never got to finish that sentence. Alice started and looked over my shoulder, “What’s that? What’s there?”

When I turned around I thought I saw …something. My first instinct was to get in front of Alice. If a hungry bobcat or a bear was going to attack her it was going to have to gnaw its way past my gut first. I thought to myself that if I never got a chance to tell her how I felt I could at least show her.

“What is that?” She said again.

“It’s all right,” I told her.

A tall dark shape walked out of the woods. At first I thought there was something wrong with the guy’s head then I realized he was wearing a motorcycle helmet and some kind of overalls. He was wearing carpenter’s tool belt too. It jingled when he walked.

“Go back to the camp,” I told Alice as quietly and calmly as I could, “The cell phone and the keys are in the Hummer’s glove box.”

Then I stepped forward. At the time I was more excited then scared, after all I had at least ninety pounds on this guy. It was my chance to prove myself to her, to show the depths of my commitment. When I was close enough to the stranger I could see his face was covered by one of those BMX style motocross masks. I remember that I had my arms up in front of me, ready to duke it out. I tried to sound cool but the first words out of my mouth were, “Where’s your bike?”

Then he hit me and I went down.

One damn hit and I went down.

When I woke up I didn’t know how long I was out but my dreams were terrible and cold, so cold. I didn’t think you could feel things in your dreams. Maybe that’s what woke me up. My first real thought when I came to was It’s raining.

But rain doesn’t feel that warm and the sounds in the air- and what I herd was nothing like the sound a rainstorm makes.

I opened my eyes and I thought for a minute that maybe I had just fallen asleep by the campfire. The flickering light almost let me fool myself for a second. Then I heard Kev’s dying groan and wet, warm red splashed down over me.

My hands were tied with rope, me feet too. I think it was the rope from the tents.

There was a whispering sound, like chanting. I even know a word to describe it- it was on the word a day calendar my Nana got me – ‘sibilant’. Yeah it was sibilant. The light was from a lantern hung from a low tree branch. We were all tied up at the base of that weird black stone. Jenny, Laurie and Mark were on the ground near me. Laurie was crying and screaming but her mouth was covered up with tape.

All our mouths were covered with tape. Duct tape. Did I mention that? I don’t know how I forgot it.

…No I can go on. I need to. Laurie was crying and screaming. Mark and Jenny were dead. Their chests were cut open. Then Kev hit the ground near us. He was the same way, a big disgusting hole where his heart should have been.

I started screaming when I saw that, as much as I could scream with my mouth taped up. I was shouting Alice’s name over and over again. I rolled around trying to find her. I knew that if I saw her cut open like that I would just… I would just lose it.

She wasn’t there. That gave me a little hope anyway. I thought maybe she had run while I was getting my ass handed to me with one punch.

One punch! I still can’t believe that it only took one goddamn punch.

Then I saw BMX Man himself. He was all covered with blood and carrying this curved looking knife in his one hand. He stepped over me and grabbed Laurie, she kicked and struggled but he just picked her up off her feet and slammed her down hard on the black stone in this kind of clumsy pro wresting move. I am sure I heard some of her bones break, maybe her arms or her ribs or something.

Not that it mattered in the end.

But when he picked her up the curved blade thing fell from his hand. He didn’t seem to notice, probably because he had plenty of others. I grasped it and tried to cut my hands free. Both the handle and the blade were slick and hard to hold but I managed to get the ropes around my wrists loosened up but it didn’t do much good for Laurie. BMX Man cut her heart out just like all the others then he pushed what was left to the ground and headed over for me.

I remember that with the light from the lantern spilling around him that BMX Man looked like he was made of smoke. I held up the knife I’d gotten hold of and made a “Ha!” kind of sound through the duct tape.

That stopped him at least. BMX Man froze in place. He looked like he couldn’t believe his eyes. Not that I could see his eyes at all. But the point is that Adam Drahm had thrown him a curve ball.

Yeah, I’d see those slasher flicks from the old days… you know the eighties… and it’s always the fat guy that dies like a bitch gets and usually dies a virgin.

Well not me. Not this fat guy.

With my free hand I started to pull off the duct tape, then I saw the black rock… it had changed somehow. The stars and the lantern light were glinting and twisting across its surface but the reflections were all wrong. They didn’t look right. They didn’t even look real. I wish I could explain it better. And the whispering, that sibilant sound? It was everywhere. At first I thought it was BMX man but it was like there was a chorus just out of sight. When I try to remember just what it was they were saying it just makes me more confused.

I think- I think the light on the rock keeping time with the voices? Does that make any sense?

The BMX Man tried to take a run at me. I think maybe he thought because my feet were still tied and I was sitting there on the ground I would be easy pickings. Or maybe it was just the whispers urging him on.

…was there whispering? Was there really? I think there was.

He tried to kick me in the face. Going for my glass jaw again. I caught him in the calf with the curved knife. The blade hit bone and tore down.

When I heard him scream it was almost disappointing. I thought it would be something like the cry of a monster but his voice was normal. He was cursing, calling me a “Fat fuck.” and all the other usual insults. He tried to stab me and managed to cut my arms and hands up pretty good but I pushed myself to my feet and hopped away from him.

Every time I tried to bend down and cut my ankles free he was there crawling after me. He had started shouting things at me… not just insults. I remember only one word really clearly. It was “Anzon.”

And you know that I have never heard that word before. I wasn’t even sure it was a proper word.

But here’s the crazy part, it wasn’t just his voice that I heard it from. It was like the whispering in the air was saying it too.

…no, I don’t know if there was anyone else in the woods with us. But I don’t think we were alone either. I don’t know. All I was sure of was that I had to get out of there. There was something worse than BMX Man there; I could almost feel it pushing down-

…no that’s not right, not pushing down. Slipping free? No, maybe it was another word from that calendar…

…insinuating? Is that right?

Anyway I tried hopping away and crashed into the tree holding the lantern. The glass shattered and fire just shot up the side of my leg. I did the drop and roll thing but remember this whole place was at the top of a steep slope so I went tumbling ass over teakettle down the hill. As I was rolling I could see flashes of the tree I had crashed into, it was starting to burn. I think I saw BMX Man up there and he might have been on fire too but the shadows didn’t make sense.

At least I couldn’t hear the whispering any more, real or not, sibilant or not it stayed at with the black stone. When I reached the bottom of the hill I barely missed smashing my head into the Hummer. It took me a moment get my feet loose. My body felt bruised everywhere. There was blood in my eyes. I leaned my head against the cool metal of the SUV’s bumper. I think I could have fallen asleep right there but then I realized that if the Hummer was still there then Alice might still be in danger. I made myself get back up and start moving. I was pretty proud of the fact I only threw up a little. I wasn’t at all happy that I still had the duct tape over my mouth.

I don’t know what hurt more tearing off the tape or having barf come out my nose.

That’s when I saw that the lights were on in the cabin. And then it all fit together in my head. After all Alice was a hot blonde and the one thing that serial killers and rock stars agree on it’s that hot blondes are at the top of the food chain.

I was sure BMX man had left her trussed up in there, probably as a bit of dessert after had finished whatever the Hell he thought he was doing with the rest of us.

Well I knew that BMX man wasn’t going anywhere fast so Alice was as good as saved. And I would be the one saving her. I could see the headline in my head already ‘Fat Guy Gets the Girl’. Just this once the fat guy gets the girl.

The cabin door was unlocked and I walked in and looked around.

There was plastic over the cabin walls, probably because of the toxic mold. And there were scented candles … like everywhere. There was a pile of papers on the table, they were old and wrinkled. They looked like mimeographs.

But who uses mimeographs anymore? I barely know what they are and that’s because I was in the library club.

I glanced down at the top page and a familiar word struck me, it was BMX man’s favorite word.

Anzon.

Of course then I realized what these papers were or what they were supposed to be. The Anima Pilgrimage.

You’ve never heard of it? It’s like one of those famous books that never existed, like the Necromonicon or the Pnakotic Manuscripts.

How do I know this? I used to be into metal music, you get stuff like that all the time in it. The Anima Pilgrimage was mentioned in the last studio album from the band ‘Relick’- that’s spelled R-E-L-I-C-K. It was in a bunch of the lyrics and all over the liner notes. Yeah the band where the lead singer legally changed his name to Evil. I guess his wife had him locked up for being crazy or taking too much PCP or something. But the Anima Pilgrimage was supposed to be an anti- bible related to the seven dark gods that had hidden their souls in the lost and empty places of the Earth.

…yeah I know its bullshit. Remember how I said it was a fake book? People that believe in stuff like that believe in vampires and leprechauns. But the songs were awesome.

They rocked.

So there I was looking at a copy of it and thinking to myself that BMX Man must have been one of those suckers. He really thought he was calling some kind of demon god down by killing my friends.

Then I heard Alice’s voice. I couldn’t tell you what she said but I can tell you that she was wearing the sheerest pinkest lingerie I had ever seen in my life and I can also tell you that I was not who she was expecting to see.

And then she said- and this part I do remember- she said, “Where’s Tommy?”

“Tommy?” I said.

“What did you do with him?” She demanded. She actually charged me, her stiletto heels clacking on the cabin’s wood floor. I backed up, knocking the mimeographed pages to the floor. My ass hit the door, pushing it closed. “Why are you here? Why are you still alive?”

I said, “I’m here to save you?”

“What did you do to Tommy?”

“Was that Tommy? Up on the hill?”

“What did you do?” She pushed a knife against my man boobs. I don’t know where she got the knife from but honestly with that outfit she was wearing she could have been juggling ferrets and I wouldn’t have noticed.

I probably should have lied but I remember I said to her, “I think he’s… I don’t know.”

She slashed at me, cutting my face, my body and my arms, “You idiot, you stupid useless idiot! After putting up with your shit for months! You can’t even die right.”

“I don’t understand.” I was sobbing.

She cut me again. “This world is a shadow. An imperfect reflection. And only people that know that have any value.”

“I love you,” I said to her… finally.

Then she started laughing, “Will you love it when I gut you like the fat piggy you are?”

She raised the knife. I grabbed hold of her wrist trying to keep her from hurting me any more. Alice was pretty strong for a cheerleader. I couldn’t hold her back so I did the only thing I could do.

I fell on her.

Now I want it on record here that I didn’t want to kill her, I never wanted to kill her. I don’t care if she was crazy or evil or both, I loved her. But when we went down her arm twisted wrong and my 300 pounds drove the blade into her belly. It took her a while to die but I stayed with her right until the end. And when it was over I lay down next to her, in a puddle of our blood and just waited.

So, I guess that’s my story. I mean you know the rest. I guess I went into shock, that’s what the doctors tell me. Funny thing is that breathing in all the toxic mold did more damage to me than Tommy or Alice.

Maybe I would have just stayed there in that cabin and waited to die but the fire I accidentally started… accidentally started, let’s stress that… the fire brought out the fire department and police and they found me.

…Detective Myles I don’t know. The black stone was there. I saw it. I almost died on it. I don’t know where it is now. It’s not like someone could have carried it off right?

Couldn’t one of your CSI guys look into this? I mean everything else checks out. You found Tommy right? The bodies with no hearts? The weapons?

It’s not my fault you can’t find a bunch of mimeographed papers and a boulder and I don’t much care. My Dad is going to have an army of lawyers on this and I’ll never see any jail time. I mean look at you, you both think I’m crazy right now.

What? DNA evidence? You mean the blood on my clothes?

Oh… oh. That.

Well. What do you think it means? It’s like I said before, you can have anything you want in this world if you want it bad enough and you’re patient.

And like I said, just this once the fat guy got the girl.

END TRANSCRIPT

 

 

 

 

 

TALES OF LOST GODS AND FRAGILE TRANSFORMATIONS: Down By The Water

 

]

By

Al Bruno III

 

And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.

But Ophelia said she'd be here.

She promised.

*

It had taken four hours of driving to reach Cape Cod. It was me, my mother and father, and my brother Leon, who was a year and a half older than me, the darling daughter. Ordinarily, my father celebrated his son's victories with men-only trips to New York City or Lake George. But since his beloved all-star was heading off to college in the fall, he decided it would be a family affair.

No matter how much I'd tried to weasel out of it, father still made me go. It wasn't because they were worried about me getting into some kind of trouble; it was simply an unspoken rule in the Sweet family that I never got what I wanted.

An hour into the trip, Leon started ragging on me, making snide remarks about my grades, my waistline, and my therapist, then waving his scholarship under my nose. I ignored it for as long as I could, but my Walkman's batteries died as we passed through Sturbridge, Massachusetts, so I decided that would be the perfect time to bring up his DUI. All Hell broke loose in the car; it got so bad that we had to pull over so my father could tell me in no uncertain terms that I was seventeen and I needed to grow up and get my head on straight.

As always, mother tried to be the peacemaker and failed miserably.

The rest of the car ride was icily quiet, except for the music on the radio, but father started to perk up as he got closer to the cabin. He was so proud of the deal he'd gotten.

We turned left on a street called Patti Page Way onto a long dirt driveway. Once we reached the cabin, we understood it hadn't been a deal at all; it had been a robbery. The outside of the cabin was a wreck, with peeling paint, a sagging porch, and a crooked hanging bench. Tiles were missing from the red roof, and the windows were cracked and covered in grime.

It looked like it should have been condemned, not rented out. My mother and I said we should double back and find a hotel, but my father, of course, would have none of it. "It's already paid for! Non-refundable! You're not even giving it a chance. Let's look inside."

The inside of the cabin wasn't nearly as bad, but it was obvious it hadn't been cleaned in a while. There was a layer of dust on the worn-out furniture, and cobwebs adorned the corners of the room. My mother went to the bedrooms to check for bedbugs or worse and returned with a nod of reluctant approval.

"See?" my father said, "It's not so bad, and besides, after you girls clean it up a little..."

"Us girls?" I dropped my bags on the floor. "I thought this was a family vacation."

Leon rolled his eyes, and my father looked ready to turn purple. mother tried to get in the middle, "What she meant was that we didn't come all this way just-"

"Oh, I know what she meant all right." My father looked right over mother and glared at me. I could feel the 'I work all day speech' coming.

He said, ”I work all day so you and your Goddamn mother can have nice things, and all you give me is grief."

"It's not fair," I said.

"Honey, maybe if we worked together..." mother began, but she stopped talking when my father's glare turned her way.

With that, Leon and my father announced they were going to the store to get pizza and beer. But of course, my father couldn't leave without one last barb at me, "Besides, a little work might help you slim down a little."

Leon laughed. ”You hear that Chubbs?”

Face contorted with rage, I stormed out of that rat-hole cabin, shouting, "That's not my name!" If anyone called out after me, I didn't hear. I ran to the beach, determined not to let them see me cry.

I'd never seen the ocean, except for movies and TV.  It was huge, stretching across the horizon. Looking at it made me feel small, but I didn't mind. My science teacher had told me that the oceans were the first things the Earth created. They would probably be the last things to go.There were big ugly seagulls everywhere and tiny, nervous-looking birds that divided most of their time between sifting in the mud and running in terror at the slightest motion. Small shells cracked under my feet. Slipping off my shoes, I waded into the surf, feeling the waves brushing against and around my legs.

As I waded through the water, I saw my reflection. For as long as I can remember, I've despised what I saw staring back at me. My weight, the constant burden I carried, distorted my image, making me appear older than my years. I had battled with it for as long as I could remember, dieting on and off since I was eight years old, yet nothing seemed to make a difference. Two years ago, someone mistook me for Leon's mother, and that was the moment I mostly gave up trying to change. Still, despite my aversion, I could not look away as I watched how the ripples in the water pulled me apart and pieced me back together again.

It was like I was hypnotized. I walked along the water's edge, not glancing up until distant voices startled me. That's when I realized it was twilight, and the ocean had turned a bruised purple color.

When I got back to the cabin, I found my mother nearly in tears, "Where were you? We were worried sick! We almost called the police."

"I'm sorry," I said.

Leon and my father were sitting at the rickety table, a plate of chicken bones in front of each of them. My father stood up and approached me. His breath was sour, and there were shreds of chicken in his teeth. "Are you trying to ruin this vacation?"

"Look, I just-"

"You're miserable and ungrateful, and I won't stand for it," He poked me in the chest, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to leave a mark, "You are gonna shape up and fly right? Do you hear me?"

Leon rolled his eyes, "Oh, like she'll ever get in shape."

mother hushed him but let my father continue his performance. He said, "I didn't bring you up here so you could screw around and do whatever you want to do! We are here to vacation as a family!"

"I'm..." the words stung my mouth, "I'm sorry."

He smiled with satisfaction and gestured to the table, "I didn't like the looks of the pizza place, so we got some Kentucky Fried Chicken. I got you a large meal."

He turned to go outside and have a smoke, Leon tagged along after him. mother busied herself cleaning up while I ate all the food my father had brought, hating myself with every bite.

*

The next day, we went to an amusement park as a family. Of course, I was too big to fit on many of the rides, so I spent most of the time being miserable on the sidelines. I looked at them and thought about what a perfect little family they made or would make if I wasn't around. At least they let me buy some new batteries for my Walkman at the gift shop.

When we returned to the cabin, it was already late afternoon. Leon asked if he could have the car to go and meet some kids he had befriended at the amusement park. My father casually tossed him the keys without a second thought.

I wanted to say something about Leon's suspended license, but I didn't bother. It wasn't worth getting another face full of my father's enraged spittle.

My mother and father had brought a pair of beach chairs, but instead of taking them to the seashore, they set them up on the cabin's ragged porch and began passing a bottle of their favorite scotch between them. I asked for permission to go to the boardwalk.

My father made me sweat it out for a few minutes, but inevitably, he said I could go. Of course, unlike Leon, I had to be back by sundown. My mother slipped me ten bucks in case I wanted some ice cream.

A twenty-minute stroll led me to the bustling boardwalk, alive with carnival lights, blaring music, and the delicious scents of saltwater taffy and fried dough. Lined with multicolored buildings and signs, the worn wooden planks beneath my feet bore the marks of years of foot traffic and ocean air. Groups of people, families, and friends strolled by in shorts and sunhats while others rode past on bikes. It seemed like I was the only person making their way alone.

I found my way to a small, dimly lit arcade between a bar and a shop specializing in old-fashioned photo shoots. It was called Wimpy and Gagglemax's Gaming Center and only had a few other customers.

The place had a little bit of everything; a pool table, some skee ball lanes, a claw game, a few pinball machines, and, of course, video games. But their selection was lame; 'Jungle Patrol,' 'Crazy Climber,' and some weird plant-themed thing called 'Come o Sé Comido,' but they did have 'Dig Dug,' and that was MY game. I had the top three high scores at the Aladdin's Castle arcade back home. There was another game I was even better at, but I had gotten tired of the jokes about the fat girl who had mastered 'Burger Time.'

The change machine didn't want to take my money, so I approached the two guys lounging at the skee ball prize counter and asked them to break my ten. One was bald, and the other had curly hair; they had to be the owners. I wondered which one was Wimpy and which one was Gagglemax. They had to be at least forty, and the way they ran their eyes over me made me feel dirty. The bald one handed me five silngle dollar bills and the rest in quarters. He let his fingers run along my palm when he did so. I retreated, cringing to the Dig Dug machine.

Time slowed down while I played the game. I burrowed tunnels that twisted and turned in all the right ways. The Pookas and Fygars didn't stand a chance, at least until I got to level twenty. I couldn’t get past level twenty back home, and I couldn’t that day either. But I stubbornly kept trying until I had spent my way through twenty quarters.

I decided to keep the five singles in case there was something else I wanted. The arcade had all kinds of off-brand candy and postcards. There were Cape Cod themed t-shirts and little dried starfish.

And there were posters, all kinds of posters. I had time, so I started to flip through the racks. The selection began with blacklight posters. Even in the dimly lit world of Wimpy and Gagglemax's Gaming Center, they were almost hypnotic. I wondered to myself if this was what being on drugs felt like. After that were the glossy reproductions of classic rock band album covers and dynamic shots of their frontmen and women. That led to ones of modern-day musicians like Michael Jackson, Duran Duran, and Olivia Newton-John. Then, there were a few classic actors like the Marx Brothers, Marilyn Monroe, and John Wayne.

Then came the sexy girls, half of whom I recognized from Leon's room, like Christie Brinkley, Bo Derek, and Adrienne Barbeau. From there were lurid shots of anonymous women in swimwear and underwear. One flip later and I was staring at a woman in a pool wearing a man's t-shirt. The water had rendered the fabric nearly transparent. I could see every curve and contour, her belly button and her nipples, so much darker than the rest of her skin. Something about it made me blush.

After that were the pictures of heartthrobs and teen idols like Ralph Macchio and Rob Lowe, and movie stars like Mel Gibson and Tom Cruise. Following that was a selection of musclebound men in shorts and jeans; none wore a shirt, and most had their chests shaved. I stared at them for a while. Did girls really put posters like this up in their rooms?

Maybe they did, but I wouldn’t know; I hadn’t been to a friend’s house for a visit or a sleepover since fifth grade. The one thing I did know is that it wasn’t my thing. As my eyes lingered on the last athletic model on the poster rack, I couldn’t help but wonder why I wasn’t feeling anything. Was there something wrong with me, or was it the result of all those years of my father telling me I was too heavy to ever find a man out of one side of his mouth and warning me not to be a slut out of the other?

“Hey!" One of the owners—the bald one—grabbed me by the upper arm. Are you gonna drool over the posters all day, or are you gonna buy something?"

My heart jumped, and I yanked my arm free of his grip, "What's the big idea?" I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I pulled away from him.

He said, "You spend five measly bucks, and you think you can loiter here all day?"

"I wasn't loitering!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with indignation. "I was just looking around. I didn't realize there was a time limit to browsing in this dump!"

That did it. I watched the bald man's pasty face redden to match my own, "Get out!"

Angry and afraid, I dashed out of Wimpy and Gagglemax's Gaming Center; the other owner, the one with the curly hair, watched me pass with a smirking expression. He said something, but I couldn't hear it. Whatever it was, I was sure it hadn't been very nice. My eyes were so used to the arcade that the late afternoon light was dazzling. I blinked and steadied myself on the boardwalk railing.

*

Despite being warned we were going on a deep-sea fishing trip, no one was ready for my father shouting and bullying us all awake more than an hour before sunrise. My mother was barely awake, but he was already ordering her and me to make breakfast. I didn't mind helping, but I did mind that Leon didn't have to lift a finger.

One sloppily made breakfast later, we were in the car making our way to the marina. Leon was in the front seat listening to my father's stories about the deep sea fishing expeditions he had gone on as a single man in the Navy. My mother’s gaze shifted down to her lap when he said those had been the best days of his life.

Leon asked about the ship, and my father began to explain the difference between a regular yacht and a sport fishing yacht but suddenly I realized something.

"Dad, we have to go back," I said, "I forgot my jacket."

"So?" He said.

"You said it would be freezing."

"And I said not to forget anything." he shrugged. He actually picked up speed as he maneuvered the car onto the interstate. Ten years ago, he'd told me I was his princess and he would do anything for me.

My mother piped up, "It's not such a bother, is it? We don't want her to catch cold."

"No."

"That's all right," she patted my arm, "We'll just buy you a jacket when we get to the marina. They must have a gift shop around there."

"We are not buying her a goddamn thing," my father said.

"Good thing she's got all that blubber to protect her," Leon said in a stage whisper.

"Ginny, Let me handle this," my father said. "Maybe she wouldn't be such a brat if she had to deal with some consequences once in a while."

"Oh," I said, "like your son had to deal with his consequences? How much did you spend to keep him out of jail?"

The answer was a lot. My father had moved Heaven and Earth to protect Leon and his 'promising future.' It had hurt our family financially and socially, and he had forbidden any of us to talk about it. But at moments like this, I was glad to bring it up; it felt good to remind them that the Boy Wonder had feet of clay.

"God damn it!" He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, "Can you not be a bitch for five minutes?"

"I don't know," My reply was lightning fast, so fast that I didn't realize the words had come from my mouth, "Can you not be a bastard?"

The brakes squealed as my father swerved us onto the shoulder. My mother gasped, and my brother snickered; a line had been crossed, but so many lines had been crossed over the last few years. I barely cared anymore. All I could think to myself was how we used to be a family. What happened to us?

He unbuckled himself and turned around in his seat, "You think you can talk to me like that? All this over a damn coat."

"Yes." I said, "Over a coat!"

"That's it." He said, and I flinched instinctively, "You're grounded."

"Grounded?"

We sped back to the cabin, and with every twist and turn of the wheel, my mother and brother grew more and more worried that my father was going to send us plowing into a tree or a ditch.

Finally, we arrived back at the cabin, and my father slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Without a word, he shifted into park and turned off the engine. We all sat there in silence, waiting for his next move.

My father turned to face me, "Get out.” He pointed towards the cabin's front door. "Go to your room and stay there until we get back."

I started to speak, but my mother shushed me, "Just do what he says. Please don't make any more trouble."

"We're gonna be late," Leon said.

I sighed and stepped out of the car onto the dusty gravel driveway. My family drove away. They left me behind. The sound of their departure echoed in my ears. I trudged up to the front door, wondering if any of them had spared me a backward glance.

When I was alone in the cabin, I did not go straight to my room; I plopped down on the couch. I had been looking forward to today; I had been so excited at the thought of being out on the ocean so far out on the ocean, that the shore would be just a memory. I had been so excited that I had forgotten my jacket. Now I could see it across the room, slung over the arm of the recliner. The sight of it made me bury my face in my hands. I stayed that way for a long time. Then I went to my temporary bedroom like a good girl and hated myself for it.

With nothing else to do, I napped and listened to my Walkman going through every one of the Police's albums, from Outlandos d'Amour to Synchronicity.

It was just a little while after lunch when the calls began. I answered immediately, thinking it was my parents checking up on me somehow. "Hello?"

I heard a man’s voice ask, "Is she there?” He was weeping.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"Who is this?"

"I think you have the wrong number," I said.

“Ophelia is it you?"

I hung up the phone with a grimace, imagining some idiot with a fake number from a bimbo who'd flashed them a polite smile at first or some fake affection at best. Better them than me. I started to go back to my room when the phone rang again. I waited for whoever was on the other line to give up. Ten rings later, I answered. "Hello?"

"Ophelia?" They blubbered.

"That's not my name," I said, "Please stop calling."

"You sound like her."

“I’m not her. I’m nobody.”

The voice became even more desperate and pleading, "I've waited for so long."

I put the receiver back down again.

They called back almost instantly; this time I let the phone ring, put on my Walkman, and cranked the volume all the way up. I tried to let the music transport me to a place far away from the cabin, from that phone call, from my family. ‘Message In A Bottle’ filled my ears and I imagined myself somewhere far far away.

But the ringing persisted. I heard it going on and on in the silence between one song and another. It made me feel uneasy with questions. Finally, inevitably, I ripped off the earphones and picked up the phone again. "Look, I told you already, you have the wrong number," I said.

“I did everything you asked.” The voice on the other end of the line trembled, “I’ve been waiting for so long."

"Please." I pleaded, “stop bothering me."

"I need to see you." He said, "I'm coming to see you now."

"You don't even know-"

"328 Patti Page Way." The stranger started weeping again, "Don't you remember? We walked from the cabin to the beach and held hands at the promontory."

My stomach dropped. I quickly ended the call and retreated back to my room. After a few panicked moments, I put the chair in front of the door. How did they know where I was? I envisioned a local Romeo bewitched by a visiting Juliet. Now Juliet was long gone and Romeo was heartbroken. And where did that leave me?

Alone and defenseless with my family miles away. I hated myself for arguing over a stupid jacket. Was it really worth it? Arguing with people who would never let me win? Why couldn't I just grin and bear it?

The hours dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. I was terrified and bored; I didn't dare put my headphones back on, so I listened. Every creak and groan of the cabin seemed to taunt me. My nerves were shot as I waited for something, anything, to happen. Was the caller all talk and no action, or would some maniac break down the front door in search of his lost Ophelia?

A dozen forevers later, I heard the family car pulling up outside. Relief made me feel weak, but I still managed to un-baracade myself from my room and meet them at the door. My family looked sunburnt and exhausted; when I hugged my father, he reeked of salt and sweat, but I didn't care one damn bit. "Looks like someone learned their lesson."

There was a long pause before he reluctantly hugged me back. My mother entered the cabin holding up the bag of fast food she had gotten for me. When my brother passed my field of vision, he gave me a smirk
.
I didn’t care. I didn't argue; I just didn't want to be alone and afraid anymore.

*

That night, as I scarfed down my burger, I told them about the creep on the phone. My mother was horrified and said I should have called the police; my brother rolled his eyes and said I should have just left the phone off the receiver, and my father told me next time, I should grab a steak knife before I went into hiding. That night, I couldn't sleep well. The sound of the ocean was louder than usual, making me feel restless.

The next morning my mother said she wanted us all to go to the beach as a family. My father agreed with a grunt. Leon asked if he could call his friends from a few days ago and have them meet us there. My parents were fine with that.As soon as my brother was off the phone, we grabbed our cooler, beach chairs, and towels. We walked the short distance to the shore.
The ocean was just as beautiful before. Sunlight danced upon the waves, creating a breathtaking display of shimmering light. I wanted to stare but instead helped my family find a spot and set up our little beach camp. My brother Leon, ignoring our mother's protests that we had just arrived, went off in search of his friends. I told my parents I wanted to go for a swim, and my father told me to be careful. My mother looked me over and asked why I wasn't wearing the nice new bathing suit she had gotten for me. I didn't really want to go into the water in shorts and a T-shirt, did I?

I explained that I was wearing the pale pink one-piece bathing suit she had bought me- under my t-shirt and shorts. That led to an argument that was as gentle as it was relentless; my mother won out, and I stripped out of my shorts and t-shirt. My father scowled at me and looked away. The salty breeze whipped at my hair, and as I waded into the cold water. Slowly, I let myself sink into the sea, allowing my body to float on its surface. The vastness of the ocean made my insecurity and anger seem insignificatant.

Looking back to the beach, I saw Leon returning with a small group of new friends: two girls and two guys. They introduced themselves to my parents. Then they stripped out of their street clothes, revealing bathing suits beneath. One of the girls wore a swimsuit exactly like the one from the Christie Brinkley poster. My father did not look away from her. An incoming wave lifted me up and dropped me back down again. When I looked back, they were running into the surf, laughing and splashing each other."

There was no way I wanted to share my part of the ocean with them. So I picked a direction and started to swim, my limbs moving with practiced ease. I had always been a good swimmer, but everything changed when I turned twelve and started to gain weight. Despite being an athletic kid, I began overeating in seventh grade. Our house had always been full of snacks, but suddenly, I couldn’t keep my hands off them. I don’t know what changed, but everyone else seemed to have an opinion about it and each one was worse than the last.


Mindful of the riptides, I kept the beach to my left as I swam. I saw volleyball players, solitary people reading, women sunbathing, children playing, strangers all of them but I knew if they saw me they would snicker and make snide remarks.

After a while, longer than I expected, my muscles began to ache, and fatigue set in. It was time to return to land and rest. Maybe I would walk back or maybe just sit on the sand for a while. In the distance, I  noticed a formation of rocks jutting out from the water's surface. It was wide enough for three people to walk along and stretched all the way back to the beach. As I swam closer, I saw it rose about five feet above the waves. The closer I got, the rougher the ocean became, pushing me towards the rocks. I struggled to maintain control, but the relentless waves made keeping my head above water difficult. Salt water filled my mouth, and I collided with the ugly crag with bruising force.

I floated there for a few minutes, clinging to the rock formation. Finding a sturdy handhold, I began to climb, my tired muscles groaning with effort. Finally, I pushed myself up and lay flat on my back, staring at the sky and the gulls. I concentrated on nothing more than catching my breath.

What would have happened if I had drowned? If the angry tide had smashed me against the rocks with fatal force? Would my family even care? Or would they be relieved? Would they make jokes as they searched for a  Plus-Size coffin?

I shut my eyes tightly and kept them closed until I heard a splashing noise nearby. Then, I sat upright and let my feet dangle over the edge of the rocky outcrop. The water was further below now, and I couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed while I lay there, blind to the world.

There was another splashing sound, and then her body broke the surface of the water below me; I hadn't seen anyone swimming there. Her hair was dark, and her face belonged on the cover of a beauty magazine. She was wearing nothing but a white blouse that was two sizes too large for her. The wet fabric revealed a body like something out of Leon's wet dreams. I wanted to grab one of the loose rocks nearby and drop it on her.

She scaled the jagged rocks with the fluid grace of a seal emerging from the water. Our eyes met, and she flashed a smile. "I didn't see you up there.” Dark hair clung to her skin, droplets of water trailing down her face. “I hope I'm not bothering you.”

I shrugged. "It's a free country." Then, with a hint of sarcasm, I added, "Couldn't afford a swimsuit?”

Her smile turned playful. "I have everything I need."

"I bet you do." The bitterness in my voice surprised me, and a twinge of guilt followed. What had she ever done to deserve that? Attempting to recover, I asked, "Uhm, do you like the beach?”

"I love the ocean," she fiddled with the wet fabric covering her torso, pulling it away from her skin only to have it settle back into place just as translucent as before. I got a strange feeling she was doing it for my benefit. "Unknowable, Uncontrollable. And deeper than any of us could imagine."

"That's pretty poetic."

"You have such serious eyes," She said. "Tell me your name."

I did. Then she moved closer, her face even with mine. Her smile became strange. She leaned in close, I thought she was going to say something, perhaps share a secret, but instead, she kissed me. Electric shocks ran through me. I felt numb. I felt sick. I felt warm all over.

The kiss broke. "Who are you?" I breathed.

Before she dove off the rock pier, she uttered just one word: "Ophelia." The name caught me off guard. I was still in shock from our kiss and didn't even hear the splash when she hit the water.

Scrambling drunkenly to my feet I raced back to my parents, the hot sand of the beach burning my feet, the taste of seawater heavy in my mouth, the cool breeze wafting off the ocean making me shiver. Or maybe it was something else making me shiver. I found my family packing up; my mother asked where I had been, and my father demanded to know what I had been up to. I made an excuse about riptides and losing track of where I was, and they believed it. All the while, Leon and his friends watched me and shared conspiratorial grins. On the walk back to the cabin, the girl in the Christie Brinkley swimsuit said, "Your brother told us all about you."

I was about to say something sarcastic when one of the guys said, “Why are you wearing lipstick?"

That stopped me dead in my tracks. I realized the taste in my mouth that I had taken to be seawater was something else. When I touched my lips with my fingers they came back stained red. When had I bitten my lip?

*

A noise outside the cabin startled me awake. I went to my cracked bedroom window and peered out into the darkness. I didn’t know how late at night it was but sunrise must have been hours away. The noise was like whispering; it wasn’t just one voice but several. Yet, even as that thought occurred, uncertainty crept in—were they really voices? Somehow, I just wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that, somehow, the sounds were familiar to me, like something out of a dream.


I needed to know what it was. So I quickly threw on the clothes I had worn the day before and quietly made my way to the front door, careful not to wake anyone else in the cabin. There were no stars or moon, just the shadowy outline of low-hanging clouds. As I stepped onto the porch I nearly stumbled over the empty cooler that had been left behind by my parents. There was a sickening moment when I thought I was going to fall flat on my face, but I caught myself on the railing.

The air was warm and thick. Without thinking, I stepped off the porch and began to follow the sound of the whispers that were not whispers. My steps were cautious and shuffling as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Gradually, I  realized I was making my way along the familiar path to the beach.

The ocean was a mirror of the starless sky; I knew it was there only by the salty breeze and the rumbling crash of the waves. The sound of waves was so loud that it drowned out the whispers, but they were still there. I closed my eyes, trading one darkness for another, and tried to orient myself to the sound. I was sure it was somewhere to the east, but before I could follow it, I heard a familiar voice. It was the stranger from the phone, "Ophelia!"

My heart began to pound in my chest; sick with fear, I spun in place, looking for him, but I might as well have had my eyes closed.

"Ophelia!"

A figure emerged from the blackness, the outline of a man shuffling along the shore. His shoulders were hunched. I could imagine the tears running down his face, the gaunt face looking far older than the body that carried it. “You said you’d be here,” he said, his voice fading into the sound of the ocean, “You promised.”

Certain he believed he was alone, I began to back away slowly. I didn't dare run. With every step, I feared he would notice me and, despite my very different shape, mistake me for Ophelia. What was it I'd heard my father say to Leon? Something about every woman being the same in the dark.

The not-quite whispers were closer now. I followed the sound until I found myself where the rocky outcropping that had nearly killed me met the beach.

Fear and curiosity drove me to make my way along the ugly crag; water lapped at my feet, numbing them almost immediately. More, by instinct than anything else, I stopped at the edge of the outcrop. The waves were knee-level now, splashing against me relentlessly, trying to push me back. There was inky blackness all around me.

The whispering chorus stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. Impossibily the sound of the waves also vanished and I stood there unmoving, unseeing and unhearing. It made me remember that when I was a little girl, this is what I had imagined being dead felt like.

"I found you!" The sound of the stranger's voice jolted me. He was close behind me, a fast-approaching shadow. Panicked, I ran blindly and blundered over the side of the rock formation into the dark water.

Cold oblivion consumed me.

*

I regained consciousness in a cave lit by unseen candles. Strange symbols adorned the walls, and the air was heavy with the scent of saltwater and decay. As my vision adjusted, I saw slender, ethereal shapes moving in the shadows, tending to something—an ugly silhouette that thrashed and gurgled.

A familiar figure loomed over me. Wet, dark hair and sea-blue eyes filled my vision. Her hand stroked my face, gentle yet firm.
"Ophelia," I said.

"You've been asleep for so long." She propped my head up, bringing a clamshell to my lips. The water was salty and stung, but before I could protest, I realized I was naked. My clothes lay spread across the rock floor, slowly drying.

Humiliated, I curled into a ball, trying to cover myself. "Don't look at me!" I whispered.

Ophelia grabbed my wrists and pulled me into a sitting position. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." She was naked, too, her skin gleaming as though she had just left the water. "None of us do."

My heart raced, on the verge of tears. "Where am I?"

"Among friends." She drew me close.

I glanced at the feminine shapes lingering in the shadows; they had drawn closer to the figure at their feet. A sound reminiscent of a fish being scaled echoed in the cave, followed by a familiar sob. It was the man from the phone.

"Who are they?" my voice was barely above a whisper.

"Ophelia"

"I thought you were-” I began.

"We are all Ophelias," she said, her expression darkening, "Born to be martyrs in men's eyes."

I said, "I don't understand."

Ophelia’s mouth became an angry frown, ”We can be daughters, lovers, even angels, but we can never be free from that hateful thing they pretend is love.”

I asked, “Why did you bring me here?”

“Why don’t you stay?”

"You don't even know my name." I breathed, “You don’t know who I am?”

"Do you?" She said with a kiss. She pushed me down onto my back. As her lips moved across my skin, each kiss felt like a cold drop of winter rain. Dizziness washed over me. It was like I was on an elevator that wouldn't stop going up. “Who do you want to be? Are you who others say you are?"

Ophelia started running her nails hard across my chest and belly. I wanted to escape. I never wanted to leave. It was like she was taking me, making me hers. Blood welled up from the cuts and scrapes. She kissed the wounds she had made, one by one, her lips smearing red. The cave was filled with whispered songs that had no words. Her murmuring joined them.

When it was over she held me close.

“I love you,” the voice of the man from the phone said. He sounded like he was drowning, “Isn’t that enough?” He coughed twice and then fell silent.

The candles began to go out one by one, and shadows began to swallow her, trying to snatch her away from me. I kissed her hard on the mouth, losing myself in her. In a matter of seconds, I was lost in darkness.

*

It was late in the morning when I awoke. I was lying flat on my back on the crag. The clouds above were a stormy purple, and the rain was coming down hard. I was soaking wet, and my clothes were plastered to my skin. I heard a familiar voice calling my name, but it wasn't one I wanted to hear. I moaned, half with exhaustion, half with anguish. My skin still ached and tingled in the places Ophelia had clawed at me.

With trembling hands, I crawled to the ledge and looked down. The tide had gone out. Fifteen feet below me, Leon was trudging along the surf, wet and miserable, and shouting my name.

"Leon?" I called out. For a hilarious moment, he was utterly bewildered, his square head swiveling back and forth. I called again, "Up here!”

When he finally saw me, he started screaming, "You are in big trouble! Dad is seriously pissed!”

"I just went for a walk.”

"A walk? You've been gone for over a day!" Leon blundered closer until he was directly below me. I could have spit on him if I wanted to.

I scowled down at him, remembering all the times he had disappeared for an entire weekend without a single phone call, only to return to a gentle reprimand from our father instead of a harsh scolding and a slap to the back of the head. I used one of his excuses, "I was with friends."

The expression on his face twisted as if he were looking at something disgusting. "Delores told me she saw you here last night!"

Bile rose up in my throat. "So what?”

"She saw what you were doing! Are you crazy? Why can't you just be normal? What is wrong with—"

A stone the size of a bowling ball crashed down on Leon, crushing his skull. He collapsed face down into the surf, blood clouding the seawater.

I scrambled to my feet to find Ophelia standing near me. "You killed him," I said.

The waves greedily pulled at Leon's body, twisting and bending it like a rag doll only to push it back up the sand again.

I know I should have felt something, but I didn’t. “What am I going to do?’"I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of the rain and the racing of my own thoughts.

“What do you want to do?”

"I want to be with you." The rain pelted us. It was getting cold and dark, but it didn't matter. I felt safe in her arms., "I want to be with you forever."

"Then be with us," she said.

"What about Leon?"

Ophelia chuckled coldly. ”What about him?"

"But the police will find out," I said.

She released me and stepped to the edge of the crag, "In the deep dark," She said, "We are free from judgment."

The downpour had become torrential. Ophelia's words caused me to gaze longingly at the ocean. Each wave crashed against the shore with a powerful roar, sending spray and mist into the air.

She kissed my forehead.

There were no second thoughts, no worries. I turned and started walking back to the cabin. After a few minutes, I turned back to look for Ophelia. Through the storm, I saw four hazy but unmistakably masculine figures standing by Leon's body. Moving clumsily, they lifted his limp form and carried it into the sea.

*

From the moment I stepped into the cabin my father started screaming at me, my mother was silent and glared reporachfully. The stinging sensation of my scratches was intensifying to the point of almost being pleasurable.

Turning away from them, I walked calmly to the kitchenette. Their voices seemed distant as if echoing from the base of a rocky cliff during low tide. Steady-handed, I reached into the kitchen drawer and retrieved a steak knife. My father's insult rang out. "Oh, Jesus Christ! She's going to make a sandwich!"

Ignoring him was easy. Everything he said was familiar. I waited until his temper broke, and he all but ran at me. He violently grabbed my shoulder, yanking me around to face him.

The knife was dull, but my strength proved more than sufficient to slice open his throat. Blood splattered across both our faces. His scream was gurgling and wet, his mouth gaping like a fish. He stumbled backward, clutching at his neck, tripped over his own feet, and collapsed. I stood there, watching as my father spent the final moments of his life weeping.

When it was over, I looked to my mother. She had been standing by watching, just like always. "Angela, please," she cowered at my approach.

I raised the bloody knife above my head, "That's not my name."

*

There was enough kerosene left in the cabin's rusty heater, to start a good fire. I watched the structure burn for a little while. I felt nothing; I hadn't felt anything at all since I left Ophelia's arms. When I was finished I headed for the shore.

And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.

But Ophelia said she'd be here.

She promised.

The tingling under my skin was painful. I ripped at my clothes and tore madly at the scabs. They broke open easily. The flesh beneath them was unblemished and gleaming.

I waded out into the cold, crashing water, leaving my shirt, shorts, and long red strips of my flesh behind. In the unknowable depths, I would never be a daughter, a punchline, or a scapegoat. I would be free.

With each footstep, the roar of the waves changed, becoming softer and prayer-like. It sounded like a chorus of voices calling out the name "Ophelia."

Voices so very much like mine.