In the darkness, he could hear the cry of a gull in the distance. Then a cool, wet sensation began to creep its way up his leg. Scout’s eyes fluttered open and the world began to hazily rebuild itself before him as he stared blankly up at the cloudy sky.

The tide continued to roll in and the wet sensation grew. Scout realized the surf was pouring in up to his calves now.

“Shit,” he pushed himself up to a seat while maneuvering backward through the sand to dryer real estate.

As he moved he saw the ring again. It was no longer on his finger, but sitting in the sand in such a precise way that it was able to stand on its side. A chill ran through him as he saw the ring and his mind began to reckon with what just happened. What had he just seen?

At first, everything was black. Then opaque swirls of grey and midnight blue began to swim before him. Soon, Scout found himself floating high over the town looking out toward the waterfront. It was Savage, that was certain, but not Savage today.

Pinpoints of light danced and flickered in the night as a rolling fog drifted in from the sea. They were torches. Lining the main street and on sconces outside of homes, they created a parade of waltzing shadows to dance in their light.

He was seeing Savage just as it was on its 100th anniversary as a settlement.

Still, wherever he was, in whatever state he was in, he noted that it was deathly quiet. No wind, no birds, there was no sound. It was just quiet, it was as if someone had hit the mute button of the world. Scout opened his mouth and tried to speak but his efforts were futile as his words disappeared into the unexplained and invisible vortex of silence that enfolding everything he could see.

That’s when he saw a different sort of light. It was shimmering, ethereal, and dim…and it was coming from underneath the water just offshore. At first, the light was faint, but then it grew and grew until Scout thought it looked like fifty cars were approaching the village from the ocean floor, all with the headlights on full brights! Then the bubbling started. Of course, it didn’t make noise, but the water rolled and churned seemingly boiling. Then, from the writhing waters, something began to rise…and Scout woke up on the beach. Scout felt like there was more to his dream or vision, but his brain was too cloudy.

He shivered and pulled his knees into his chest. A chilly wind was coming in from the north blowing his hair into a, not completely unattractive, mess. What just happened was enough to weird him out for a long time, and just added fuel to the fire that was how much he hated having to move. He wished he was back in his old room, sneaking around after school making out with Jacob Walkey before either of their parents got home.

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“Fuck,” he said to no one. “Why?”, this one was addressed to the sea.

Again, his eyes fell on the ring. A heat rose inside him. Anger. He picked up the ring, made his way to standing, and with a powerful throw, he hurled the ring out into the sea. As it plunged into the water a gull called out. He was just a few feet away from Scout and seemed to be judging him for what he’d done.

“Mind your own business,” Scout kicked sand towards the bird and it flew off.

As he looked out again over the ocean, noting the gathering dark clouds towards the horizon, he decided to head back up to the house. It’s also when he noticed the first twinge of a headache setting in. The surf rolled in and over Scout’s shoes one more time before he turned and headed home.

The beach led to the sheer cliffs upon which the handful of houses out on this point sat. Half a dozen rickety-switchback staircases snaked their way up the cliffs giving access to beachgoers…if there ever were any in this desolate place. The stairs shook as he made his way up, trying best he could to avoid a splinter from the weathered wooden handrail. The stairs looked a thousand years old. Scout couldn't fathom how they could still be standing. Suddenly it dawned on him they looked like they could give way any minute. He quickened his pace.

Finally, at the landing at the top of the stairs, he turned and looked back down at the beach below. For half of a millisecond, he thought he saw something slide into the shadows below the stairs, but he quickly convinced himself it was nothing…well he told himself he was convinced anyway. His arms, covered in goosebumps, would tell a different story though.

Back in his new house, he let the storm door slam behind him louder than expected causing him to jump. He looked around. No one was home. Scout took a deep breath. He needed to relax. This whole move and town and everything was fucking with him just a little too much and he needed it all to calm down a little. Then he remembered he had half a joint left cigar box he kept under his bed.

A few minutes later, he sat on the slanted roof outside his bedroom window. The spark of a lighter and one deep inhale was all he needed. A warm, heaviness began to drip down him like honey from his head to his toes. Slowly but surely his anxiety and stress began to melt away. He took another drag off the joint and let his head lean back against the windowpane. From his vantage point, he could see the sea and the still gathering storm clouds. Far in the distance, a bolt of lightning touched the ocean. The cool breeze coming in from the impending storm mixed with the distant sound of lapping waves, Scout thought, was actually really relaxing. So much so that even for a moment, he forgot about everything that had transpired earlier that afternoon. He was almost content…until he heard his parents pulling in the driveway below.

Quickly, Scout put the joint out on the shingles of the roof and tucked it safely in his pocket before re-opening the window and crawling back inside. Just as he finished closing the window, he heard the front door open.

“We’re home! You here?” his dad called out from downstairs.

Scout made his way towards the door, “Yeah, be right down,” he called back.

Then he froze.

He didn’t know how he missed it when he first came home. Nonetheless, there it was. Sitting perfectly balanced on its side directly in the middle of his bedroom doorway was a ring. A ring that not half an hour earlier he’d thrown out into the sea.