Chapter 5
It was a bright and sunny day. The sun was high in the sky above the Pacific Ocean, and everyone was out at Stinson Beach to enjoy the beautiful weather, including Father and I. That was the day of my first birthday.
We walked along the beach, the ocean brushing at our feet. Father was drinking a vodka lemonade, but mine was just regular lemonade.
“No drinking until you’re at least six,” he grinned. My brow furrowed. I asked him why six specifically, since human aging didn’t apply to me. I would be exactly the same as I am now when I was six. He looked at me then, and said, “I was joking.” I mouthed “oh,” and began to laugh. He rolled his eyes at me.
Occasionally, we would bend over to pick seashells up from the sand. One of them had a hermit crab in it. Not knowing what a hermit crab was at the time, I held it in my hand for a total of two seconds before it pinched me, and I shouted. Father roared with laughter. And every now in then, Father would toss a stone into the water, and I would be amazed when it would skip a few times before sinking in. Whenever I tried, my stone would just sink.
“It takes time, Jonah,” he chuckled. “It takes time.” As we were walking, he suddenly bent over and clutched his chest. He fell to his knees, and his eyes were squeezed together.
“Father?” I cried, alarmed. I put a hand on his back. “Father, what’s wrong?”
He said nothing for a few moments. Eventually, he opened his eyes again, and stood back up. He shook his head. “Nothing,” he insisted. “Just heartburn, as all.”
I looked at him doubtfully, but we continued walking. After a few minutes, he noticed that sitting a few yards away on the beach was his friend Bernie who he played chess with at the park. He waved and smiled at us.
Father gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Why don’t you take a swim, son,” he said. “I’m going to chat up Bernie for a bit, alright?” Father, though being an excellent swimmer, swore up and down that he hated swimming. He would never go with me. I nodded. After yanking off my shirt and handing it to him to hold onto, he jogged over to Bernie.
I waded deeper and deeper into the water, the waves rising up to meet me. Eventually, I was neck deep, the heat against my forehead contrasted with the coolness of the water that wrapped around the rest of my body. It was a pleasant feeling. I closed my eyes and lifted my feet up from the sea floor, allowing myself to float. I stayed like that for awhile as people swam all around me and clouds began to float across the sky.
I stayed like that for some time until the screaming began. I opened my eyes and looked around to see what the commotion was. Everyone was pointing in horror at something happening on the shore. A group of people seemed to be circled around something, and it was too far away for me to see anything. I swam back to the shore to get a better look.
I hugged my arms across my chest as I came out of the water dripping and wet. Large gray storm clouds had drifted in while I was swimming and were now blocking out the sunshine, leaving the air significantly colder than it had been when we got here. I tried to ignore my shivering as I made my way quickly towards the group of people, curious to see what they were looking at. I had to push through a sea of bodies before I could get to the center.
When I finally got to the front, I stopped dead in my tracks. At the center of the circle was Father, lying down on the sand, his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he jerked with involuntary spasms. He looked like he was being electrocuted. Bernie was kneeling beside him, holding his head up, but I could tell by his expression that he was just as confused and horrified as I was.
“What’s happening?” I shouted as I knelt down beside him. I cupped his cheek as his mouth hung open and his eye twitched. “Christ, what’s happening?”
“I-I don’t know,” Bernie stammered. “We was just talkin’ and all when he got this weird look in his eye, and he started touchin’ his chest. I asked ‘im what was wrong, but he just fell over, and, and...”
I shook Father by the shoulders. “Father? Father, can you hear me?” I got no response. He continued to shudder violently and drool leaked from the corner of his mouth. I could feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I looked around at the crowd of people staring in horror around us. “Someone call 911!” I ordered. Everyone just blinked at me, still in shock. I felt heat rise inside my chest as I shouted, “NOW!” Several people jumped before quickly taking out their cell phones and dialing.
Being somewhat trained in CPR, I pressed my ear to his trembling chest. He was still breathing and his heart was still beating. I looked inside his mouth, pushing his tongue down to get a better view of his throat. Nothing blocking the airway.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said helplessly. I rocked back and forth on my knees and bit my lip. “I’m sorry, Father, I don’t know what to do.”
Just as I said this, Father began to cough up blood.
***
I screamed bloody murder. My eyes snapped open, and I gasped for air as I looked around me. Everyone seated on the plane around me had turned to stare in mixed shock and annoyance. That’s right. I was on a plane. I muttered a quick “sorry” before closing my eyes again, breathing heavily. I released my iron grip on the arm rest. Someone sitting behind me kicked my seat.
I swiped the back of my hand across my forehead. I was sweating, and quite profusely. Yet another bad dream. I opened my eyes and looked out the window at the clouds rolling by peacefully. I kept having terribly bad dreams lately. The fact that I was having dreams at all was confusing enough.
The elderly woman sitting to my right, who was kind enough to not shoot me a dirty look like everyone else, tapped me gently on the shoulder. I looked over at her, still panting, and she smiled.
“Are you okay, son?” she asked politely. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she genuinely cared.
I tried my best to smile back at her, my chest rising and falling. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. Thanks.”
The pain inside my chest that hadn’t quite gone away since Father’s death chose that moment to return. It was cripplingly painful this time, and I had to clench my teeth as it threatened to split me in two. It felt like it was shattering my ribs. In the back of my head, I wondered if I had ruptured an artery.
“Son? Are you okay?” I felt the elderly woman’s frail hand on my shoulder, but I couldn’t bring myself to respond. My nails dug into the seat, and I bit my teeth into my bottom lip to keep from screaming out loud.
Out of nowhere, my eyes got really hot. I pressed the palms of my hands against them, swearing under my breath. A lump began to form in my throat, and try as I might, I couldn’t swallow it. It became harder and harder for me to breathe until it felt like I was suffocating.
And for some reason I couldn’t explain, I began to cry.
###
Thank you so much for reading the first book of my series! I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. It’s the first book I’ve written, so it would be greatly appreciated if you left me some feedback. It would especially be helpful since I wrote this book for my senior project. Any comments you have would be fantastic. I hope you will read the next volume of this series as well.
Thanks!
Ameilia Foster
About the Author
Ameilia Foster is a seventeen year old high school student from Broomfield, Colorado. She is currently attending Legacy High School and Bollman Technical Education Center. A Walking Shadow is the first book she’s written, and hopefully there are many more to come. She plans to become fine art major after she graduates. She can be contacted at
[email protected], or you could visit her website https://lvbyrinthine.tumblr.com for more information.
Connect With Me
Follow Ameilia on Twitter: https://twitter.com/meeyuhfstr
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