Sparkles and Chop

He jerks his head up from the plastic inflatable pool lounger and cold water sloshes into his sun-warmed sides, making him gasp. He swivels his head around – and nothing scares the absolute shit out of him. Just three-sixty degrees of blue water, sparkles and sky.

No beach, no boats, nobody. Nothing.

… Wait, he can see a dark smudge on the horizon. Is it land?

Oh my god, is that how far I’ve floated out!?

Who even gives a shit if it is, it’s as useful to him as no land being that far away. As realisation full-arm slaps him awake, he immediately starts hyperventilating. Short sharp breaths, with a gasp on the in breath and a moan on the out. Like an excitable 2 year old is rapidly squeezing a rubber chicken:

Huh-ahhh huh-ahhh huh-ahhh huh-faahck huh-faahk huh-faaaahck!

This is so typical. Just for a second, a second mind, he relaxed his body enough to actually enjoy the sensation of floating in the sun and he falls asleep and wakes up countless miles offshore. He knew this is what happens when he allows himself to un-brace for impact from whatever jagged object the world is poised to peg into his vulnerable body and mind. This is what he gets for not being vigilantly clenched to stave off lurking disaster.

Oh god, I’m faah-huh-aahcked huh-ahhh huh-ahhh.

He frantically looks this way and that, desperate to, beyond all logic, find that: no, he is not marooned at sea on a cheap, clear, plastic, floaty. But all he sees, no matter how much his eyes bulge with yearning to will a different set of circumstances into existence, is deep blue water, sparkling in the sun.

…Wait again, his “land” is, in fact, only a dark smudge of clouds on the horizon after all! Suddenly, by its abrupt absence, he realises there was a tenuous background comfort to thinking there is land in sight, even if out of reach. Now he doesn’t even know which direction to ineffectually paddle his ridiculous raft.

He starts sobbing uncontrollably through the rhythmic gasps of hyperventilation. Trying to lie down in a ball he loses balance and falls into the deep blue. Why does it feel like it’s arctic in temperature? He wonders how this stupid floaty felt so relaxing before, so stable and comfortable in the shallows. Now it seems that to balance on it defies the very laws of physics. It enrages the laws of physics and they cast him asunder from it the moment he tries to be still.

Fuck you laws of physics!

he cries, but it’s an unsatisfying scream. With nothing but the water’s surface to bounce off; it sounds muted in his ears. He tries hard to gather himself – can’t. Tries harder – still can’t. Breaths quicker, gets dizzy, and gives up, lying back to stare at the sky.

Then, without trying, his body and mind slowly begin to gather and his breath starts to slow. With slowing breath comes a slowing of thought. And with less turbulent thought he’s able to locate and pick one that pleases him:

I’m sure they’ll notice I’m gone. Probably, by now, they’ll have called the coast guard. They’ll be circling in on me right now. That’s got to be the case doesn’t it?

NAAAAAAAH! NAAAAAAAH!

comes the screech of a sea gull floating nearby.

To pull his mind from the vast expanse of nothing, he tightens his circle of awareness. Looks into the water. Nothing to be seen under there, just light-eating void waiting for him to fall off his plastic perch for good and eat him whole. But on top? Ah, now that’s something he can hold onto. There’s ripples on the water spreading out from him and closer in, his floaty. There’s a drink holder built into the side for a beer to go when floating in the pool. It’s empty now of course. A nice beer to sip while laying back in the pool. This is a floaty for a pool...

Sigh

He has a stupid habit of saying sigh instead of actually sighing and admonishes himself for it. He won’t win over people with unseemly quirks like that. Although, here there’s no one to win over anyway and he sighs for real this time, at least.

The adrenaline has abated now and all he has energy for is to lie there and gaze. His brain, bursting with frantic thoughts, now goes into idle mode. He just watches. Watches with the stare of an old man in an aged-care home. He starts to lose sense of himself; is absorbed into his surroundings… This is actually quite pleasant. He can do this indefinitely. The sun is warm, the water blue; without the implication of certain death, this would be idyllic.

But then there’s change. The blue water turns silvery grey and now a darker impenetrable grey. The air cools and the wind picks up. His breath starts quickening, mirroring the sea’s change. The white sparkles amongst the bright blue have transformed into white chop on bleak ash and the cold prickles his skin with a sense of imminent danger. He produces rubber chicken song once more.

The bobbing seagull gives him a last look before taking off with an:

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGH!!

More realisation triggered by sudden absence! Without the bird he is properly alone. The corners of his pool lounger whip around his legs as the breeze picks up. He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth.

… But apparently it’s just a passing chunk of cloud. Dark and thick, yes, but quick moving. He knows this because he feels warmth on his face and opens his eyes to bright blue again. He feels silly for overreacting.

Lucky no one is around to have seen it – hahahaha!

He lies back and takes in the, once more, clear sky; beside clouds passing through it. He’s aware of his muscles and mind relaxing. He feels disaster still lurking, only now it’s somehow rendered impotent. He falls asleep with an amused chuckle of someone who finally gets the joke.

Huh huh-ha huh-hahah

***

Blue water, sparkles, and sky.

No beach, no boats, no body. Nothing.

THE END