Reflected in the Moonlight

The incessant rocking of the boat had stopped completely. The stillness was dizzying after so many days spent pitching this way and that, and Annie felt her stomach turn.

“Brad,” said Annie in a harsh whisper as she pushed the sleeping mass that was her partner. He groaned and shuffled a bit.

“We’re not moving,” Annie said, craning her neck to try and see outside. Their sailboat, the Blue Dream, was a thirty two foot fiberglass yacht. A 1979 Wetsail 32, to be more specific. But more than that, for the last month and some change, the boat had been her and Brad’s home.

“Brad, I'm not going to tell you again. We’re not moving, go out there and see what’s going on.”

“You go out there, I’m still sleeping.” Brad groaned and pressed a pillow tightly to his face. Annie groaned and slid out of bed.

“Lazy piece of shit,” she said at a volume only she could hear before moving out of their small cabin into their even smaller galley. Normally, the baskets of food they had tied up would be swinging about with the natural movement of the south pacific, but this morning everything was completely still.

Annie moved through the galley and up the stairs to the top deck. Daylight was making its first appearance through muddled gray clouds that were gathered far on the eastern horizon. Purple light from the sunrise shined vibrantly across the sky where it could find room, and more amazingly, across the surface of the ocean as well.

It was as still as a mirror.

All around their ship the water looked as if it had never been disturbed since the dawn of time, as if throwing something into it would shatter its glass surface and bring their ship down into whatever void existed beyond.

Their sail, which usually stood tall and taut against the Eastern trade winds, sagged low and sad. There was absolutely no wind.

It was just about the most beautiful thing Annie had ever seen.

“Brad, get up here!” She yelled without a care about his sleep. He would be upset if she told him about it later on and didn’t make him come up and look. She also knew, however, that he would be mad if she woke him. You’re damned if you do, you’re damned if you don’t. Especially with a guy like Brad.

When she didn’t hear his reply, she skipped down the steps below deck and hopped on the bed. Surely a little playful morning antics would cheer him up.

“C’mon sleepyhead, come see what the sky is doing! And the water, too, it’s amazing.” Annie said. Brad let out a deep, guttural sound and sat up, his eyes swollen, his long brown hair a mess.

“You promise it’s amazing?” Brad asked. Annie’s heart fluttered in her chest at the words, it meant he wasn’t mad at her, and she could perhaps go a full day on board the Blue Dream without getting the cold shoulder from her boyfriend.

“I promise.” Annie said, and she clamped Brad on the wrist and led him up.

It was all that she had promised and more. Even the perpetually grumpy Brad dropped his jaw and widened his tired eyes.

“How is the water so smooth?” Brad asked, turning about on one foot to see if it was like that everywhere.

“I have no idea. Isn’t it amazing?”

They spent much of the morning admiring the mirrorlike surface of the ocean, taking photos and dangling their legs over so they could just stare. Brad was more pleasant than he had been since they set off. She gave him some grace, as sailing was much more her thing than his, but his rotten demeanor had really put a damper on her trip of a lifetime.

Morning turned to afternoon and then evening, and soon the world was purple again as the sky dimmed and the water reflected it. Annie glanced at the sail, which had hung like a discarded plastic bag all day.

“Hopefully we get some wind tomorrow.” Brad chimed, likely noticing how she was staring at it.

“We will. Calm like this doesn’t last long. We should savor it, it sure beats a raging storm.” Annie added. Brad nodded in agreement, and the two ate their dinner and went to sleep.

Annie awoke to nothing. No errant wave, no bigger than normal bump. She awoke to complete stillness. Slipping out of bed quietly and carefully, she tiptoed up the stairs and onto the deck.

Glass surrounded the boat in every direction, and the sail hung low and did not stir.

“Still quiet?” Brad’s voice said from behind her.

“Looks that way,” Annie replied.

“Should we run the motor?” Brad offered. Annie nodded and turned toward the stairs, but Brad’s firm hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“I can start it up.” He said, and offered her a smile. Annie smiled back and went back up onto the deck.

In no time they were moving forward again, the sound of their motor eerie against the silence. Not a bird in the sky, not a whistle of wind, not a ripple in the water, just the humming of their small outboard. Behind them, the glassy surface warped and distorted as they moved through it, but even still Annie thought she could see the water becoming uniform again far behind them.

They ran the motor all day without a single gust of wind. That evening was much less jovial, and dinner was eaten in silence.

“How far away is it?” Brad asked. He was referring to French Polynesia, their destination.

“A couple of weeks.” Annie replied.

“How long can we run the motor?” Brad asked.

“A couple of days.”

“How long before our food and water runs out?”

Annie turned her head sharply.

“You’re on this boat too, why don’t you look around? Count the food or see how much water we have or do something to make yourself useful!” She snapped. Brad shook his head, dumped what was left on his plate overboard and started down the stairs.

“Brad-” she started, but he waved her off, and a second later the cabin door slammed shut.

Night fell quickly, yet without wind the air was hot and stale. Moonlight shone with a perfect reflection atop the crystal sea, and even in the dark the world was bright. Annie hadn’t heard Brad stir since he stomped off, and in the light of the moon she made her way down below deck to shut off the motor.

A quick glance at the fuel gauge showed they had about an eighth of a tank left. Perhaps enough to run the motor for a day and a half.

It’s alright, Annie, she told herself, weather like this never lasts. It’ll pick up tomorrow.

She spent that night on deck, laying on a small daybed with a thin quilt. It was plenty warm, especially once the motor cut and the boat once again came to a screeching halt in the perfect stillness. She counted stars, which were out in their millions and would have been more if not for the blaring moonlight. As she dozed, just before she shut her eyes, she thought she saw a building standing on the still water. It was far off, and glowing softly in the night.

“I’m sorry I threw my food. That was stupid. But I don’t want to be called useless.”

Annie woke up with a start to see Brad standing over her.

“It’s okay.” She said, and blinked sleep out of her eyes.

“Don’t call me useless.” Brad insisted.

“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.” Annie agreed. She took a tentative look around and saw that the ocean was still completely smooth, and the wind was none.

“Should we turn the motor back on?” Brad asked. Annie shook her head.

“We don’t have much fuel, and we’ll need some in case there are rocks and things to quickly navigate around. We’ll just have to wait it out.”

Brad spent the day attempting to fish. Each time he cast his line, a circular ripple expanded out into infinity across the smooth surface until the stillness swallowed them up again. Annie couldn’t help but think that the water, once so beautiful, was now their glossy prison. It was as if time itself had stopped for everyone but them, as if someone had pressed pause on the world and forgotten to include their little boat. She wondered if she would want to be included, if the world had frozen, Would it be better to be included or be as they were, the lone people still alive and moving about the Earth?

Both options sounded awful.

Night fell again, and the setting sun convinced her that not everything had frozen in time. In its stead the moon returned, though not as bright as it had been the night before. Brad didn’t talk much, on account of his pouting over his fishing failure.

“I’m glad you came with me.” Annie said to Brad, and he looked over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah, right,” he said.

“No, really. I can’t imagine being out here alone. Not when it's like this,” she said.

Brad considered her words.

“I wouldn’t want to be alone out here, either.”

He got up from where he had been sitting and took a seat next to her on the daybed. He was only there for a second before he shot to his feet.

“Do you see that?” Brad practically yelled, pointing a finger into the darkness. Annie got up on one elbow and squinted into the night.

Beneath the moon, bathed in white light, was a building. A cluster of buildings, actually. They sat on the horizon as if it were actually solid, as if the water were actually a mirror and didn’t just look that way. They were gray and glowed, as if they were made of ancient stone.

“It must be a trick of the light.” Annie said, blinking.

“A trick of the light? Those are buildings, Annie. Turn the motor on for God’s sake!” Brad yelled. His eyes were glued to the collection of stone towers. Annie felt a chill despite the lack of wind, but turned the motor on anyway, and steered Blue Dream in that direction.

They putted across the water for hours, and as they did the collection of buildings stayed just as far away as it had ever been.

“Why can’t we get any closer?” Brad asked.

“Because they aren’t there,” Annie replied. The first beams of daylight crept over the horizon, and at once the city was gone, washed away by the orange glow. Annie cut the engine off.

Two days later the water was still a perfect mirror, the wind was still absent, and the fuel was nearly empty. They had spent the next night, too, motoring toward the city, which had once again returned in the moonlight. But once again, it was a city of darkness, and the daylight had chased it away.

“We’re going to die out here.” Brad said. It was midday, and hot, and nothing stirred.

“No we aren’t. This can’t last forever.” Annie said.

“I think you know now that isn’t true. I think you know as well as I do that this is, in fact, going to last forever.” Brad said. Annie felt a rush of cool wash over her body. The words that had been playing in her head the past few days had now been spoken into the world, into their still, frozen world.

“This isn’t weather, Annie. It’s something else. We’re stuck here and you know it.” Brad continued. Annie shook her head, but that feeling of chills persisted.

“There’s only one way out.” Brad said.

“What way is that?” Annie asked.

“That city. We have to get there.” Brad said.

“It isn’t real.” Annie replied.

“Do you think any of this is real, Annie? None of this is real! We’re stuck here, and the only way out is that city. It was bigger last night. Closer. We made progress. We should have enough fuel to get there. It wouldn’t show itself to us if we couldn’t get there.” Brad was saying, his eyes wide enough that she could see the whites all around them. She took a step back away from him.

“We don’t have enough. We can’t run the motor again, we just have to wait.”

“We can’t wait. There’s nothing coming.”

“It’s my boat, and I say we wait.” Annie said, raising her voice. It echoed across the still nothingness with a harsh finality.

Brad nodded, and walked over to the bow, and sat down.

Annie spent the rest of the day breaking their remaining food and water supplies up into rations. Brad did not move from his spot where he sat dangling his legs over the bow. When night fell, she looked for the city, and once again saw it standing tall. It was closer. She could see more detail in the gray stones. Looking at Brad, she considered saying goodnight, but decided against it, and retired to the cabin.

She awoke with a start. The motor was running.

“You idiot! You dumbass! You’ve killed us!” She was screaming as she jumped out of bed and climbed the stairs. She stopped suddenly. The city was even closer now, a cluster of old stone buildings with peaked roofs and tall towers. It was perhaps only a mile away, and no longer lived on the horizon, but stood directly on the smooth surface. She scowled and cut the motor off.

“It isn’t real.” She growled, noticing Brad was standing near the edge, facing the city. She was just about to lay into him when she saw her.

About a hundred yards off, between them and the city, was a woman. She was tall and pale, and her skin glowed in the moonlight. She had a hand out, as if calling for someone. Annie looked at Brad, and saw a glow in his wide eyes that she had never seen.

“She wants us to go with her.” Brad said.

“No, Brad. She isn’t real.”

“You see her, don’t you?” Brad droned, his voice almost a whisper. Annie said nothing. She did see the woman, the glowing city, the glassy surface of the water. She saw all of it.

“I’m going.” Brad said.

“Don’t.” Annie said, clamping hard on his wrist. He turned to face her, and her grip on him weakened.

His face was something that it hadn’t been before. Hypnotized or changed or something else. His eyes glowed like the stones of the buildings or the skin of the woman or the reflection of the moon, and all at once she knew he was already gone. She let go of his wrist. Immediately he turned away from her, his eyes falling once again on the impossibility on the ocean’s surface in front of them.

“I’m going.” Brad said again, and he stepped off.

Annie reared back, covering her face from the splash, but it didn’t come.

Instead she saw that he was walking silently on the glassy surface toward the woman. Each step released a single ripple, a circle that widened and widened forever, and Annie watched as Brad walked away without turning back. He took the woman’s still outstretched hand and walked with her, their hands clasped, toward whatever horrible city loomed over them. On that broadway of reflected moonlight she saw them go, and they disappeared into that collection of buildings, and almost as soon as they did the sun started to rise. The silvery city shimmered, and in the orange it faded away, leaving behind only the crisscrossed ripples of their footsteps.

Annie stood for a moment, her mouth agape. Silence crowded in on her, and she was alone in the stillness. She gazed out toward where the city had been, where Brad had gone, and saw nothing but smooth water. Behind, a sudden sound startled her.

The sail flapped once. Then again. Then it twisted and opened and filled with air until it was taut against its riggings. Annie’s hair blew into her face, and the world was alive once again.

She glanced back to where she had last seen Brad, but where there had once been a mirror smooth surface, there was only deep blue.