The sun hovered above the horizon in its morning splendour, the trees rustled musically as they danced to the rhythm of the cool breeze coursing through them, like the morning alarm. Brad awoke with the warmth of the sun on his back, the cold wetness of his bed of stones pressing against his stomach and the taste of salt in his mouth; grains of sand clung to his lips and tongue and he sputtered as he turned sluggishly onto his back. He lifted a trembling hand to his throbbing head, touching his blood matted hair, and traced his hands to his lips, flinching as his salty fingers singed his busted, swollen lips. He struggled to sit up. Dizziness overwhelmed him and he gasped as a sharp pain shot up his stiff back – every muscle, every joint felt like a broken hinge. But even in his immobilizing pain he knew that he couldn’t stay here, the harshness of the ocean breeze was that voice of reason.
He stared out at the bare expanse of frothing water and stifled a sob, where was Mara? He wrapped his black, cashmere car coat tighter around him; it still smelled of Mara’s flowery perfume; he hadn’t bothered to remove it that night on the yacht. Much of that night was a blur, but it couldn’t ease the panic and sheer worry of not knowing where his wife was. He looked down at the angry waves below him and the horrid thought of her being beneath it undid him. He welcomed the warmth of the tears that had begun coursing down his cheeks, her being captured by their attackers didn’t seem so terrible now, at least she would be alive, but for how long? With tears in his eyes he looked up at the beautiful blue sky they were admiring only yesterday and he groaned.
“What did I ever do to deserve this, why the hell won’t you help me!” he cried, not knowing to whom he cried or what he really considered to be help. He just felt like someone had to be blamed, someone had to hear and someone had to protect her.
He looked down at his hands upon which he wore two gold rings, on his right he wore a large gold ring with a huge stone, it was a gift from an old friend from the days when he carried boxes for a living, and on his left was his plain, gold wedding band.
Mara had made a thing out of getting it, knowing how he liked everything simple, for once she chose to think of him instead of herself. Brad smiled as he thought of their wedding day when she explained the reason for her choice he remembered laughing, he remembered being so happy but it had only lasted for the first year of their marriage. Mara started being difficult, she was hardly ever home but was either partying, shopping, or hanging with friends. Brad started feeling left out, he tried convincing her to act and dress more like a wife and she threw a tantrum, arguing that he was becoming controlling, and before long they couldn’t have a conversation without fighting.
Their marriage was falling apart on them and the trip was another attempt to save it and it was going great too, up until the previous night. Brad grimaced and pulled the ring off his long dark slender finger and sat staring at it, he wondered what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted, could they have saved their marriage? An image of her hovering over him flashed before him, and a look of confusion came upon his face.
“She was there?” He whispered in disbelief, suddenly uncertain of his own account of that night.
He was still sorting through his murky memory when he felt and heard a bird swoop past his ear; he looked up to find a terrified flock of gulls fly over him, their cries echoing in the hollow of the bay. Brad was turning away from them, about to ease back into his state of self pity when he heard a child like cry rise up after them.
He struggled to his feet, ignoring the shooting pain and tightness in his legs, and looked about him frantically; he could now hear the sound of laughter thrilling like a siren. With his jaw set, he made a bold step forward, feeling his legs tremble and jerk underneath him he paused, took a deep breath and with a determined set of his jaw, dropped to his knees and proceeded to clamber down the side of the rock. Just mere inches from the surf, he threw himself into the roaring water and started to swim toward the shore.