Why is it that the loudest thing of all seems to be a quiet night?

Laura pondered this thought while she lay awake, her heartbeat thumping a percussion accompaniment to the all-too-loud ticking of the clock.

Somewhere far off, the house creaked in protest as it settled down for the night, and Laura had to pinch herself to keep from doing the same.

It was late, but not quite late enough.

Time ebbed by, molasses-slow.

Laura squinted across the room at the enshadowed clock face. What time was it now? Had it been three hours already, with midnight come and gone, and the new day already upon her? Or had it only been three minutes, her parents still awake and ready to firmly tuck her back in should she try to leave?

Moving in slow motion like a cat approaching prey, Laura slipped first one foot out from the covers, then the other, feeling the floor out with her toes, lest an errant step find a creak in the floorboards, waking the half-dozing house.

Her toes brushed a loose sock. There! She put her weight down upon it, satisfied at the resulting silence. She had marked her path before bed; now she just needed to follow the clothes.

Like some intrepid explorer traversing a trapped temple, the eleven-year-old girl made her way across her room towards the methodical voice of the ticking clock.

11:38.

She hadn’t missed it after all.

She paused to listen. Not a sound could be heard from the adjoining hallway. It was a little early to leave, but better to arrive too early than to keep Lucy waiting.

She approached the door.

Gently turning the knob, she let gravity slowly edge the door open, catching it before it could strike the wall.

All good so far.

Making her way into the hallway, Laura checked her parents’ room door. No light showing underneath, no sounds except her parents’ gentle snoring.

Laura breathed a sigh of relief. Now for the final challenge.

Laura approached the stairs. Holding tight to the railing, she let the tips of her toes rest on the edge of the first stair, slowly letting more weight onto it as she lifted her other foot.

She had tested it out thoroughly. The tips of the stairs were the least likely to creak, as they had the firmness of the next step’s backing beneath them.

Continuing this balancing act, Laura made her way down to the last step. Only one more to go!

But this was a trap.

The floorboards beneath the final step gave off the loudest creak in the house! She had confirmed this so extensively yesterday that her mother had sent her outside to play.

Releasing her hold on the handrail, Laura quickly clung to the edge of the doorway to the kitchen, which lay just to the right of the foot of the stairs. Then, with a leap, she swung herself over the offending creak and onto the tiled kitchen floor, landing lightly on her toes.

Mission completed!

Now in the safety of the kitchen, Laura could breathe a little easier. Stepping out into the back hallway, she put on her shoes and jacket, making sure her flashlight was in her pocket where she left it. All set, she opened the door and stepped out into the night.

The darkness stretched all-consuming before her. The little light cast through the back-door’s window formed a little protective circle against the night, but everything beyond that was tar-black stillness.

Laura’s eyes blinked rapidly as they adjusted, causing the shadows to flicker like static. Anything could be out there. Anything at all.

But that’s why God invented the flashlight, with the help of David Misell.

Flicking the switch, Laura cut through the night with her tiny blade of sunlight. Before she stepped off the porch, she swept her little light back and forth across the lawn, as if warning the encroaching darkness “Come no further, or taste my blade”. She smiled to herself. This wasn’t so bad.

Leaving her home behind, Laura set out to the meeting spot. Lucy had said to be there by midnight, but Laura doubted she’d wait that long herself. She was always so quick to leap into trouble; her feet leading, her head following. It was Lucy that had suggested looking for their friends at night, after the grown-ups had gone to sleep. They wouldn’t be any help anyway; they had already given up.

Laura shivered as a night wind blew through her. The air tasted different, like she’d accidentally wandered into another world. The warm summer air tasting of sun rays and pollen had now turned to an icy mist, and it felt as though she were breathing in the liquid shadows that pooled and writhed around her, edging the narrow path carved by her ray.

As she always did when she needed courage, Laura gripped her left wrist tightly, feeling the bracelet that adorned it, and the single shell that was its centerpiece. She didn’t have to look at it, she knew its every dimension by now, including the large pink “L” painted on it.

“L” for Laura. “L”, the last letter in “Shell”. Not the second-to-last “L”, mind you. That was Lucy’s, Lucy who hated to be last in anything. The other letters belonged to Emma, Helen, and poor little Sally. Together, they were “Shell”, like the titular ornament on their bracelets.

Laura smiled as she remembered the summer they had made their bracelets and their promise together. It had been her idea, but she was quickly dragged off by the more enthusiastic members.

Emma had wanted to use a hermit crab for her shell, not quite understanding what that would entail for the unfortunate crustacean. Fortunately Helen, ever practical, switched her shell for a near perfect duplicate she found, minus the occupant.

For herself, Helen had chosen a reddish crab shell. She was never much into pretty things, but she said it would remind her of a tasty supper of butter-soaked crab legs.

To each their own. Laura much preferred her pretty pink fan-shaped shell she found in a tide pool, with its cute lateral wavy patterns where the sea had worn it down.

Lucy had taken the longest, wanting the biggest shell of all. In the end, she chose a simple white clamshell which was as big as it was plain. Still, it was hard to argue with the satisfaction on her face.

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In contrast, Sally had chosen the smallest shell out of the lot. When asked about it later, she smiled shyly and said that as the newest member, she didn’t want to make hers bigger than anyone else’s. All the other four had been friends since preschool, whereas she had only moved here that year. Laura often worried that she felt like an odd one out, but…

Now there was no way to know.

Laura shivered again, slipping her hand back into her pocket. The neighbourhood didn’t look the same at night, either. She had walked this path countless times in daylight, and she knew every tree, every street sign, every crack in the pavement…

But at night, these familiar waypoints vanished into the gloom, leaving her always on the edge of uncertainty as to her path.

To the left, the sudden shaking of shrubbery heralded the passing of a nocturnal beast, making Laura’s hand jump to her bracelet, and her mind to that summertime again, as she drew from that bottomless well of courage.

“Look!” Laura had said proudly, holding out her shell bracelet, a fresh pink “L” painted on it. “Now we’re a set. All together, we’re “Shell”! It’s no good if one’s missing, so let’s be together forever, okay?”

It was the kind of promise that only children can make in earnest. Grown-ups make promises with their fingers crossed behind their backs, already counting on the unpredictable nature of the future. But to the five girls, the future was light-years away.

Laura had barely mentioned the promise and Lucy’s hand was already shooting out, aiming to be first, landing on top of Helen’s hand that was somehow already there. Then came Emma, slipping her hand underneath the pile as if she had been first all along. Lastly Laura, taking Sally’s hand in hers and placing it on the top of the pile.

“Together forever!” And the promise was made.

Of course, its not as if they had no concept of the distant “future” awaiting them. They all knew deep down that one day they’d grow up, trading in their current bodies for the Barbie Doll bodies of high schoolers, even Helen who was more Cabbage Patch than Barbie. They’d fall in love, go to college, and eventually start a family like their parents before them.

But somehow, they imagined they’d still be together even then, five peas from the same pod, five shells from the same beach. They’d do their hair together, only at a salon instead of in Sally’s basement. They’d go to the grocer’s pushing their strollers together, only with real babies in them instead of dolls.

And yet…all too soon that future had been taken away.

Laura looked out at the ebony lake as she passed it. Sally was always the worst swimmer, moving from the big city where they didn’t have rivers and lakes. Barely able to do more than float, she had practiced all summer in the lake, swimming further and further out every week.

Laura knew this. She remembered Sally sitting alone on the beach the summer they met, unable to join in with the rest of them in the water. She also knew Sally was dead set on not repeating that experience.

And then, one day she dove down and never came back up.

The grown-ups came and trawled the depths, searched the bulrushes, and even looked down river, but they never found a body.

Sally had vanished.

The others still didn’t believe it. Lucy, the holder of the record for holding her breath underwater imagined that one of these days Sally would pop up again, smiling shyly and announcing her new record.

“Six weeks.”

Emma figured maybe she was a mermaid all along, and had to go back to the sea, back to her prince. Or maybe she rescued a turtle and had been taken to Ryūgū Palace.

Ever practical, Helen came up with dozens of possibilities. Maybe the river had taken her out to the seaside, and she had to walk all the way back home. Maybe she found a treasure map and was searching for it. Maybe she was running away from home, using the water to throw off the police.

But somehow, Laura knew better, and she suspected that deep down the rest did too. She knew they’d always be four-fifths now. And what was “Shell” without the “S”? An ominous omen of their future days.

And then, Helen vanished while camping with her family up river.

And then, Emma disappeared while fishing with her grandpa.

Piece by piece, their future was being spirited away.

That was when Lucy had suggested looking for them. They were their friends, after all. If they couldn’t find them, nobody could.

Laura shook the thoughts out of her head. She was almost to the park. She and Lucy would comb the riverbank, looking for clues. People didn’t just vanish without a trace.

They just didn’t.

Laura stopped short. Someone was walking on the sidewalk, across the street and just up ahead of her! A grown-up?

She switched off the light and waited.

One set of footsteps…no, two…no, one…one and…something else?

But no flashlight. Wouldn’t a grown-up have one? Maybe it was Lucy!

Laura switched the light back on again, peeking around the bend as she cut a path through the night with her beam.

It was Lucy!

As Laura looked on, Lucy vanished around the corner without looking back.

Holding someone’s hand.

Laura’s heart beat loudly. Did a grown-up spot her? Were her parents taking her home? She paused. But then…why didn’t they notice her flashlight beam?

Laura’s neck prickled. Flicking off her light, she crept through the tenebrous streets after her friend.

By the time she reached the corner, Lucy was long gone. What remained was a strong swampy smell, of decay and pond scum, a scent at odds with her surroundings. Daring to reactivate her light, she found something even more unusual.

One set of small, wet footprints on the concrete and…

Laura picked it up in her hand, shuddering at the texture. A piece of pondweed?

Laura cast her beam up and down the street. It was empty, save for the trail of footprints.

Here goes nothing.

Swallowing her fear Laura followed the trail, flashlight leading the way, parting the night before her. Up the street, down an alley, back onto the sidewalk, a left turn, then another…

Laura recognized the route. It was the way they took to Emma’s house along the lake. Why was Lucy headed that way? Had she already checked out the river, and that’s why her feet were wet?

Only, the footprints were barefoot.

Laura shivered and sped up.

Her shoes slapping the pavement, she rounded one corner, then another, her heart beating loud in her head. Reaching an intersection, she nearly slipped on something wet and slimy lying across the sidewalk.

Another piece of pondweed.

Laura panted, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Sally vanished into the lake. Helen and Emma by the river. Now Lucy was headed to the same lake, that horribly dark, cold, bottomless, hungry lake.

Laura started running again.

Not this time. Not Lucy, her last friend.

Breathless, Laura reached the edge of the lake, the footprints lost in the thick grass and bulrushes. Sweeping her flashlight across the banks, Laura looked for any sign of her friend, any clue as to who-or what-she was with.

But the banks were empty. She was alone.

Laura broke down and wept. This wasn’t how it was meant to be. She had been prepared for them to go their separate ways, life, school, marriage, work, any number of obstacles lay ahead to naturally separate friends, like branching rivers slowly flowing apart from their universal source. But this…there was nothing natural here. The break was too raw, too sudden.

There weren’t even any bodies to mourn, to look at one last time, to squeeze the once-warm hands of, like her granny last November. There was just numb emptiness.

A brisk breeze blew the scent of swamp over Laura, but she didn’t notice. What did she care?

And then, a soft hand landed on her shoulder. Eyes wet, Laura turned around, only to be met with a damp embrace. Blinking the tears out of her vision, Laura dared to look up.

It was Sally!

Fresh tears sprung from here eyes, only these were the warm tears of happiness. Laura smiled at her friend, biting her lip to prevent herself from crying aloud.

The smell of swamp was thick in the air now, but Laura didn’t care. Her vision blurred with tears, she took Sally’s hand, ignoring the pondweed stuck to it as she followed her.

Down, down, down.

The water covered her head, swirling her hair behind her like a fluid wind. Her flashlight flickered, then went dark, but it didn’t matter.

Down, down, down.

Laura followed her friend, poor little Sally, Sally who was new to the town and had no friends, Sally who hated to be alone.

And she wasn’t alone. Laura looked around and saw Lucy was waiting for them, along with Helen and Emma. Laura laughed with the last of the air in her lungs. Putting out her hand, she was met by everyone else’s in turn, their bracelets spelling out their eternal promise of friendship.

“Shell”.

*******

The morning sun rose as it always did, banishing the night to its corner, sweeping away its shadows like so many bad dreams. Poking through the clouds, an errant sunbeam touched the lake’s surface, setting golden stars dancing along its ripples.

Delving deeper, the beam breached the surface, cutting through the depths to a patch of tangled algae, and its precious cargo.

Five figures, hand in hand, their skin washed white like porcelain dolls, their hair carried gently on unseen currents.

Together forever.

The End.