Two Words

My whole life stopped with those two words: He’s gone.

How could he be gone? I’d asked myself this question so many times, it had lost any sense of meaning it once had. I could see his face, so joyful and carefree, just smiling at me.

“How?” I asked my mother.

She then explained how he had drowned in the ocean, the one thing he loved most in this world. He was surfing, like he always does on Saturday mornings. No one really knows how he drowned. All they know is that he had gone under, and he never came back up.

Tears spilled from my eyes as a sob worked its way up my throat.

“The funeral is in two days.”

I didn’t even hear my mother’s voice as she spoke those words. The only thing I heard was him; just him: his laugh when he nailed me with a snowball, his grumbling mumbles when he got in trouble, his sobs when his fish, fisher, died. Hunter.

I stood up from my bed. I heard my mom’s voice but couldn’t register what exactly she was saying. I strode out the front door, never once looking back, not once caring to. I walked with my eyes on the ground, shielding my crying eyes from the rest of the world. The next time I looked up, I had arrived at my destination. I took off my shoes and felt as the concrete sidewalk morphed into grainy sand under my feet. I started out walking, but then I was running, tears streaming down my face. If there were people out, I didn’t notice. My battle was with the ocean, the unforgiving, rushing, roaring waters that ended his life.

I fell to my knees. The water lapped up at me but I glared at it angrily, as if it had no right to touch me after what it did. I watched the waves as they rode into the shore. I stared at the waters that expanded far beyond the horizon, but it was lost as the ocean didn’t have eyes nor could it feel the rage rolling off of me.

“You killed him,” I yelled with every fiber of my being.

The few people who were around, looked at me, pity covering their faces. I glared at them. For all I cared they could shove that pity up where the sun doesn’t shine.

“He’s gone and he’s never coming back all because of you. How could you take him away from me? How could you just take him?”

I’d gone from yelling at the water to yelling at God, the all magical being who supposedly controlled this topsy-turvy universe we lived in.

“Why him huh,” I asked my voice breaking.

“Just why?”

I began to notice how feeble words were. Hunter was gone and nothing could bring him back. I looked away from the water and just sat on my heels, crying, sobbing.

Eventually, I rose to my feet. The word home entered my mind but I wasn’t ready to face the grim atmosphere that was sure to surround that place. Home wasn’t going to be home for a long time, not without Hunter. I stumbled over to a swing hanging by a tree branch. I sat down and looked out at the ocean that Hunter loved so much. I was lost in my own world. I didn’t notice someone come over and sit on the trunk of a fallen tree next to me.

“Hello,” said the stranger.

I turned my head towards the voice. A boy sat there, brown hair, hazel eyes, probably around my age.

I nodded my head and looked back out at the water.

“What’s your name?” the stranger asked, obviously trying to start meaningless conversation.

“Calico.”

“Like the cat?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yea,” I sighed and sniffled. My tears had stopped. All I had left in me was sadness.

“Fisher,” the stranger said.

For some reason, that made me laugh, like really laugh. I ended up out of the seat, on my back, my head pounding from hitting it on a log.

“Are you okay? Do I need to do a Jacob Black?”

Unless he had abs like Jacob, I doubted I really needed him to help me. I shook my head and sat up.

We sat in silence for a while, neither one of us willing to break the comforting atmosphere. I wondered why he was wasting his time on me, but let that go when I felt a pang of sadness hit my heart, reminding me of why I was here in the first place.

“So what happened?”

I turned towards Fisher and cocked my head.

“You’ve got tear tracks all down your face and your eyes are really red. Something had to have happened.”

“My brother died.” I heard my voice, but I couldn’t believe I myself had spoken those words. Isn’t there some lesson I was supposed to have learned that dealt with NOT talking to strangers?

Fisher went silent.

“Right out there,” I said pointing out towards the water, “surfing his beloved waters. It’s sad when the thing you love the most ends up killing you.” My tone had turned bitter, surprising me. I didn’t know why I was telling him this, but I felt that maybe he could help me, or at least listen. I doubted anyone else would. I didn’t have any close friends I talked to and my parents, please, I’d love to see the day when they asked me how I was feeling, when they asked for my opinion.

“He was my brother and my best friend. We talked about everything and helped each other out. Yeah, we did fight constantly like most siblings do, but we knew what really mattered. I wish he was here now so he could help me get through his death. I can’t believe he’s just…gone.”

“Makes you realize how short life really is huh?” Fisher looked at me. I searched his eyes and found compassion and sincerity, as if he really cared.

“I’m really sorry about your brother, but if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.”

I thought about his offer and put it in the back of my mind. I doubted I’d ever come to him for help, but I whispered a “thanks” anyway.

We sat in silence as the sun set and people began to flood the sandy area. Soon the moon had come out. I figured my parents were done with their pity party at home and were already back working.

I stood up and gave a slight wave to Fisher as I walked down the beach. I put up my stony façade and trudged home, ready to face reality.