W-what?

Vincent looked around in disbelief, reeling at the familiar scenery. He was on Earth.

“Vinny, here it comes!” a voice he recognized said. It belonged to his mother, Karun Cordell. She stood at the edge of a beach with her son, Vinny. “Get ready!”

They both yelled as the wave crashed into their knees and knocked the boy onto his back. Saltwater splashed his face and left grit in his hair. He got up and ran screaming toward the ocean, jumping up and down as he chased the receding water. Then he threw himself into another wave and went under. The water tumbled him several times before it released him, but he got back up, laughing.

“Whoa, whoa, are you all right?” his mother asked, “you're too young to go that far by yourself.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because you don't know how to swim, baby.” Karun held his hand and walked him back toward the beach. “I can't have little 4-year-olds running into the ocean, you might drown! And–hold on, your swim trunks are coming off again. Raise your arms.” She pulled up his swimsuit and tied a knot. “How do these keep falling down, huh?”

“I dun know,” Vinny said, itching to run back out into the water again.

“Well, we must not be feeding you enough, little man!” His mother doubled the knot, then gave it a quick tug and let him go. He immediately ran screaming to the water, leaving tiny little footprints in the sand. He kicked at the small foaming waves that lapped playfully at the slope and he slapped at the bubbles that gurgled out of the ground. Another surge of water splashed at his feet, coming all the way to his shins then began to run outward again.

“Mommy, it's moving me!” he shouted.

“It's moving you?” Karun repeated, “what's moving you?”

“The 'oshin'!” Vinny said, “it's pushing my...it's pushing my feet...back! It...It...” He didn’t know how to describe it, something in the sand was pushing him away from the ocean.

“Oh...” Karun said, “that's just the sand running under your feet! It makes it feel like you're moving, but the water is just washing sand away from under your little feet!”

“The sand...runs?” Vinny asked. He had no idea what she was talking about. How could sand 'run'? He waited for another wave to come in, then he yelled at her. “See? See? It's...it's pushing me back!”

“Oh my goodness, you're right!” Karun exclaimed, giving up on explaining, “it's pushing me backwards too! Isn't that crazy?!”

“Uh huh!”

Vinny ran along the beach and began to look for seashells. He watched where he was stepping because he had to avoid the ones that bite onto toes, just like they showed on the cartoons. He explained to her that she should be careful as well and she thanked him for his warning. He started picking up seashells and collecting them in his arms. His favorite were the twisty kind that looked like ice cream cones. According to him, these were how mermaids ate ice cream. Soon, he was carrying too many of them and kept dropping shells. So, he dumped them into the yellow bucket that his mother carried, along with all the others he had already collected.

A seagull landed on the beach and waddled along the shore, pecking at the ground. Vinny stopped and stared at it. Then he picked up a shell and held it out in front of him. The seagull considered him for a moment, then began to walk toward him, head cocking. But then it flew away.

“Were you just trying to feed a seashell to that seagull?” Karun asked, “you silly boy!”

“No,” Vinny said, “it was looking for shells. I wanted...I wanted it to have one.”

“Oh, you think that's what it was doing?”

“Uh huh,” he said, dropping the shell on the ground.

“Mom, Mom!” Kris called, running along the beach with the green tube around her waist. “You have to come see this! We found a creek in the sand! It's like a slide!”

“Where's your sister?” Karun asked.

“She's with Dad.”

“I wanna go see a slide!” Vinny said, tugging on his mother's hand.

“Kris, take your brother with you to go see the slide,” Karun said, “I'll catch up with you in a bit.”

“Vinny, come on!” Kris ran, taking her brother's hand and pulling him along.

“Let go, Kris!” Vinny said with indignance as he pulled his hand free and ran along beside her.

“Sorry!” Kris said, “but you have to keep up!”

“But I am keeping up!” Vinny fumed as he ran across the wet sand, crunching across hundreds of shells. Every now and then, a crab would scuttle across the beach and hide in one of its holes. He glowered at the creatures as he ran past them. He wouldn't be pinched by one again. He could see his father up ahead, wearing his blue swim trunks and white shirt, sitting on a huge rock.

A small clear stream had carved its way through the beach, running with crystal clear water. A smooth bed of stone peeked through the many layers of sand, shimmering with the sun's rays. It was fed by a small pool at the top of the incline, where Sarah floated in her pink tube. Vinny, upon seeing the pool, began to scream and run at it. Then he jumped and plunged into its warm waters. But he didn't see any slide.

“Where's the slide?” he asked, frowning.

“Watch!” Sarah said as she kicked her tube toward the stream. Soon, a wave traveled down the carved path and flooded the pool with water. When it retreated, it suckled her out with it. She screamed as she bobbed along the winding bank of sand and stone.

“Let me try, let me try!” Vinny said, wading toward Kris to take her tube.

“No!” Kris said, “get your own!”

“Vince!” Joseph Cordell said, “I have your turtle tube right here. Don't take your sisters' tubes.” He tossed the yellow tube with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on it into the pool. Vinny grabbed it and pulled it toward the stream, then climbed onto it and waited.

“Joe?” Karun called, “when was the last time the twins had sunscreen?”

“I just put some on before we left.” he said, watching Vinny scream as the wave pushed him back into the pool and capsized his float. He stood up and wiped water out of his eyes, then he waded after the tube. Kris swam over to him and began to show her brother how to catch the wave and ride it down the stream.

“Well, I think in another thirty minutes, they should probably have some more,” Karun said, taking a seat on the rock next to him.

“What about Vince?” Joe asked, “he's not as dark as the twins are.”

“I just put some on about twenty minutes ago,” she said, “but I think he just washed it all off. I am going to have you watch him when we get back to camp. He's wearing me out with all this running and screaming. He definitely gets that from your side.”

“You shouldn't have let him drink that tea,” Joe grumbled, “I told you not to give him any of it.”

“Oh come on, he only had a little taste.” Karun pulled a towel out of the basket to spread on the ground. “There’s no way the minute amount of caffeine in that sip is responsible for his energy.”

“It wasn't a sip,” Joe retorted, “he took several gulps. That is a huge amount for a four-year old. Plus, he's been eating those teddy grahams.”

“No, he only pretended to drink,” Karun said, watching as the twins pushed their little brother down the stream, “Every time he drinks something he doesn't like, he's been pretending to drink more than he actually is.”

“If you say so...” Joe removed his sunglasses, wiped his eyes, then put them back on and opened up the can of barbecue cashews.

I remember this...

Vincent stood as a bodiless phantom in the middle of the pool, surrounded by the twins and his younger self, watching the latter as the wave came to take him away. His tube bounced off the walls of the ravine, sending him into a gentle spin. After the transitional whiplash subsided, the scene slammed at him with its poignance. It was just like the other flashback. He stood as an unseen observer to his own past.

I remember...this was one of our vacations. But I don't remember where, but we are about to form a chain with the tubes.

Karun held her hand out and Joe dumped some cashews into her palm. “We should take a picture of them,” Joe said, “call them over and have them gather in the pool with their floats.”

“Let them have their fun first,” Karun said, “when the tide goes out, then we can call them over.”

“Hon, it's 10 past 12. The tide isn't going to go out, it's only going to come in.”

“Well, let them have their fun anyway,” Karun shook her head, “Vincent didn't get a chance to do this yet. You have a real problem with timing, you know that? Why does it have to be now? We can take their picture later.”

“I'd rather take it now when the light is still good,” Joe said, “but fine. I'll take a few while they're playing.”

“There you go.”

She grabbed another handful of cashews while Joe took his camera out of its pack and walked over to snap some pictures of the kids. Vincent, unseen by any of his memories, waded out of the pool and walked up to his mother, who smiled behind her shaded glasses and white-brimmed sun hat. He did not think he could say anything to her, otherwise he would break. Besides, he knew she wouldn’t answer even if he could form the words. Instead, he sat down next to her and spoke to himself. Or perhaps he was speaking to the storm that hounded Meldohv Syredel, as if it were listening.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

This was before I started showing symptoms. I don't even remember what that was like.

“Oh, Joe come on! Cut that out!” Karun called out to Vincent's father, who was instructing the kids to face him while they floated down the stream.

It was odd, witnessing this vague memory from this perspective. He barely remembered his father scolding one of his sisters for not “floating” properly for the picture, and his mother hollering. He almost felt the desire to laugh at the absurdity of it. Almost.

“I got it!” Joe hollered back, “that's all I wanted for now!”

It was surreal; uncanny even, standing next to this younger version of the woman who had once raised him. She seemed incomplete. His mother was not yet the woman who had been tested by the chronic hysteria her laughing 4-year-old would soon develop. She seemed less wise and less hardened compared to the person she would be after the fight to come. Yet still he couldn’t look at her. If he did, he would break.

He watched as his younger self reached the end of the stream, got up, and started running back to the pool with a smile on his face. Little Vinny slipped and fell into the water. When he came back up, he was yelling again.

I remember that. They thought I was having fun. But I scraped my ankle.

Vinny looked at his mother, then his yell turned into a scream.

I saw her smiling...and got so angry. I thought she was laughing at me.

Karun saw something was wrong, got up, ran into the pool, and picked up her son. A trail of blood ran from his ankle and gathered at his feet, dripping red splotches into the water. She carried him over to the towel she had set out and sat him on her lap, kissing his forehead. The twins stared at him for a few moments with concern on their faces.

“Are we going to have to call 911?” Sarah asked her father as he trotted over to see what was wrong.

“No, we're not calling 911,” Joe said, “he'll be all right.”

Karun spent the next thirty minutes dabbing the wound, then she bandaged it. She reinforced the bandage with electrical tape, which she had wrapped around Vinny’s ankle. Vincent had never asked her how she learned such a trick or how she thought to pack those supplies in advance whenever they went to the beach.

After he was bandaged, little Vinny was ready to roll again. He stepped hesitantly toward the pool, now seemingly aware of his own mortality and embarrassed by it. He stepped into the pool to join his sisters, who had already resumed playing. After an hour of the kids screaming and forming chains with the tubes, Joe got up and looked at the horizon toward the looming clouds.

“Looks like a storm's coming in,” he said, “we better get that picture now.”

“Okay kids,” Karun said, standing up. “There's a storm coming in, but your dad wants to take a picture of you three floating there!”

What proceeded next was Joe's borderline fruitless attempt to exert order on the three hyperactive youths.

We have the picture somewhere...the picture Dad is about to take. We kept screwing it up.

As if to fulfill his own prophecy, the giggling twins kept splashing each other every time Joe took the picture. Either that, or Vinny kept floating away from his sisters.

“Sarah, hold onto your brother!” Joe commanded, irritation lacing his voice.

“Hold onto my brother?” Sarah asked, giggling as she put her hand across Vinny's face.

“Ack!” Vinny laughed, “stoppit Sar-rah!”

“Ewwww!” Sarah screamed as she retracted her hand, “Dad, he just licked me! Now I have his diseases!”

“Sarah, hold onto his tube! Not onto his face,” Joe said, “Kris, get your hair out of your face and hold onto your sister's tube. Now, both of you put Vincent's tube between yours. We're going to make a triangle.”

Vinny had a mischievous look on his face as they lined him up in front. He leaned back and licked Krishna's hand, going “ggnahh!” as he did it. She screamed and let go. Sarah also let go before he could lick her a second time. Once again, he began to float away laughing. Fuming, Joe set his camera on the ground and went into the water after Vincent.

“Vincent, stop licking your sisters!” he growled as he towed Vinny back to his spot. “Now, I want you to stay still and behave. All three of you. I'm done with warnings. The next one who acts up is going to get a spanking. If you disobey me again after the spanking, you can forget about the movie tonight. I will take it to the garbage can and throw it away.”

“Well tell him to stop licking us!” Sarah protested.

“I already have. But I'll do it again. Vincent?” Joe said, shooting daggers at Vinny, “do not lick your sisters.”

“Joe, do you need my help?” Karun asked as she stepped toward the pool.

“No. They have to learn to obey me,” Joe said.

“Well, why don't I get in with them?” she suggested, “I can be in the back, and they can form a triangle in front. They won't know how you want it arranged.”

“I guess...” Joe sighed.

Vincent, the real Vincent, watched without looking directly at her, as his mother waded into the pool to join her three kids. He walked alongside her as a phantom, feeling the memories of ocean water churning around his feet. This...this was what had been stolen from him, the moment about to happen, a picture that immortalized his last year of normality. Karun gently, but sternly coaxed her children into their spots. Vincent stepped unseen into the frame and sat down in the water so he could relive this memory, remember how it felt to have his mother holding all three of them together so that none of them would float away.

“Okay, are all three of you ready?” Joe asked as he raised the camera for the last time.

“Now, when he says three,” Karun said, “give him your biggest smile!”

“Okay, here we go!” Joe said, “one...two...three!”

*click*

It was tucked in the basement somewhere, crammed into a dusty album bound with synthetic leather. Vincent's mother held onto the twins' tubes while they held onto his, the four of them surrounded by glimmering sand. She, Sarah, and Kris gave the camera big, beaming smiles, but little Vinny's smile was the biggest. At the very last instant, he had worn a mischievous, toothy grin on his face as if he knew, and did not care how ridiculous it looked.

“Hold on, let's get...” Joe stopped as the camera began to rewind, then his face began to turn red. “Dammit Vincent! That was my last roll of film! That's it, get over here right now!”

Vincent watched as his younger self reflected his own memory of the event, the confusion at his father's anger.

“Wait...hold on Joe, what happened?” Karun asked as Vinny began to cry.

“He made a stupid face right as I said 'three!'” Joe barked, “right after I got finished telling the three of them no 'more acting up!' Vinny, get over here right now or it's going to be worse! If I have to come in there and get you–”

“–No!” Karun got up, livid and shocked at Joe's unreasonable temper. She turned to her kids. “The three of you stay here. Behave.”

She walked up onto the sand, drizzling water and pulled Joe aside. Vincent followed, wondering what she had said to his father so many years ago. His younger self, Vinny, was still sniffling as he floated, unsure of what to do, of what he had done. The silent twins got out of their tubes and dragged them to the opposite side of the pool.

“–asked him to smile and he smiled!” Karun hissed as Vincent came near.

“It was not a smile,” Joe growled, “it was a grimace!”

“What do you mean a 'grimace'? Karun demanded.

“I mean he went like this:” Joe contorted his face in a crude imitation of Vinny's grin.

“That's all?!” Karun sounded as if she were torn between chastising and laughing. “You want to spank him for that?!”

“I gave them plenty of warnings, it's time to put my foot down!” Joe said, “You jumping on me for disciplining them is not helping!”

“He is a four-year old!” Karun fumed. “He was just having fun. Who cares if he made a stupid face?! It's what kids do! You do not spank a 4-year old for that!”

“Karun,” Joe was barely able to hold his temper, his voice quivered as he spoke. “It's about respecting me and obeying me. I gave them several warnings, I told the three of them exactly what would happen!”

“Then threaten to take away their dessert!” Karun shot back, “if that face bothered you so much, take away their desserts! You don't escalate this to physical discipline, that should be the very last resort!”

“Last resort...” Joe repeated, pacing back and forth. “Those kids are damn lucky I'm not my father. They are blessed that a spanking is as bad as it gets.”

“And do you really want to pass that legacy onto them? Your father is an ass! Look at Vince! He hardly has any idea what in the hell is going on! If you do that to him right now, it's not going to teach him anything but to be afraid of you.”

Vincent watched as the younger version of his father struggled with his conflict. It was odd seeing this from the perspective of an adult. He almost recognized the same clenching of fists, the biting of lips, the look of somebody desperately trying to hold it all together before they exploded. But that was all it was: odd. There was nothing new or revealing about the scene. Vincent had always known from whom he had inherited his own tendency to flip the fuck out. Eventually, his father would calm down and realize that his outburst had been a severe overreaction.

Vincent watched as his younger self stood looking down, watching hermit crabs crawling along the beach, thinking he was “behaving” by doing absolutely nothing. Joe told everybody to pack up, then he began to walk over to his son. He paused next to the real Vincent and hesitated, as if unsure he was up to the task of doing what he intended to do, as if mercy were a concept he struggled to grasp. Then he walked over to Vinny and crouched down.

“I'm not going to spank you, Vinny,” he said, “but do you know what you did wrong?”

Vinny remained silent and began to fiddle with his fingers.

“I asked you a question,” Joe said, “do you know what you did wrong?”

Vinny shook his head and his father sighed.

“When I took your picture, you made an ugly face,” Joe tried to explain, but Vinny just stared blankly, unable to comprehend. His father seemed trapped now. “Whatever,” he finally said, “maybe you didn't do it on purpose. So whatever. You're not in trouble. You won't be punished, and you'll still be allowed to watch the movie with your sisters tonight. But when I tell you to obey me, you better obey me.”

Joe led Vinny toward the towel to put on his dry clothes. The storm began to loom overhead, blowing cold wind onto the beach.

Don't go.

Vincent stood next to the memory of his family, invisible to them. His mother held her hand to her hat to keep it from flying off and shoved the towels back into the basket. A bolt flickered over the water, followed by thunder.

“Yeah, we better get out of here!” Joe hollered.

No...

“You get the kids and go to the car!” Karun said as the first drops of rain began to hit, “I'll be right behind you.”

“Okay, just don't get yourself struck by lightning!” Joe said.

“Mom!” Sarah hollered, “you're going to die!”

“I'll be fine sweetie,” Karun hollered, “go with your father, I'm almost packed up!”

Rain began to pour through Vincent's form, pelting small craters into the sand. In a few more seconds, Karun packed the last of their belongings, got up, and began to rush toward the boardwalk. Vincent followed right behind her, leaving the looming emptiness of the storm at his back. He wanted to be with them again, to go back to the cheap Coleman pop-up with lights strung up on its awning, to watch that stupid animated movie with MacCaulay Culkin in it about magic books. But as soon as they hit the boardwalk, he began to feel himself slide backward, as if the world had begun to list upward.

No...please don't go.

Further and further the world slowly inclined until he found himself leaning forward to compensate. His feet slid as he fought for purchase in the sand-covered decking boards. He grabbed onto the railing and began to pull himself up after his mother, who was now “above” him, growing smaller as she ran. She was oblivious to the world's canting, immune to it. He fell to his knees and began to climb after her, trying to pry his fingers into the spaces between the boards so he could use them as handholds. The hungry storm loomed below him, pulling at him with its gravity. He could hear its strange yawning now, a crooning mixed with the crackle of thunder.

Vincent was now dangling by the railing, looking up at his mother, who then disappeared over the bank. He called after her, willing her to hear him, but she did not respond. She was gone...this was just a memory of who she used to be, evidence that there was once a woman named Karun Cordell. But she was gone, buried in a cemetery he could not bear to visit.

Lightning flashed, casting the railing's shadow on the sand. Wind blasted grains through him. Desperate, he tried to pull himself up, climbing from post to post. But it was all in vain, the railing ended. He thought he saw a set of headlights above him, familiar and nostalgic, pulling onto the road. They left him, his sisters, father, his mother, they left him behind.

He waited, watching the wall of sand in front of him being blasted by the storm's missiles, scattering grains everywhere. Then he let go. He watched as the boardwalk rushed past him, snaking from side to side, followed by the beach. Soon, a wall of crashing waves rose up to replace the shoreline. He was falling, falling, falling toward the roiling thunderstorm until he was lost in its clouds. The wind in his ears buffeted him with the storm's unceasing cacophony of yawning and groaning, as if it were a large beast awakening from slumber.

However, the grumbling of the storm began to transform. Its keening began to emulate the grating pitch of sirens and the clouds began to feel warm against his cheeks. They were...warm. Warm? He opened his eyes, and the storm was swept aside, replaced by the turquoise feathers that enshrouded him.