The wind was sharp. The waves roared. The green tent was pinned to the sand. Beside it a little girl was quietly building a sand castle. On the shore, near the water, Sophia, stood watching the waves. They were calling to her. This was not a safe place. The sea floor fell away to a great depth not far from the shore. Sophia heard her husband’s voice. He was talking to the little girl they shared. Cleo was their daughter. A bright sunny little girl.

Sophia heard the tent flap close. Robert had gone back to gather his things. A small skiff was bobbing just off shore. He would be heading out soon.

A cold wave raced up to the shore and wrapped around Sophia foot. It grabbed hold her other and jerked her off balance. She fell onto the wet sand. It was too slick to get a hand hold. The wave sucked her out to sea. Sophia closed her eyes. Water soaked her long black hair. It had been along time since the sea had taken her. So long that she thought it would never happened again. She had prayed it would never happen again. But, it was happening again. Water filled her lungs. It hurt. This was the last place she wanted to be and yet, here she was. The world was slipping from her…soon it would be gone. The cold was seeping into her body. Her lungs screamed for air and then…it began. A warmth tingled through out her entire body. Her lungs grasped air from the water. She could breathe. She could move. A head of her was the darkness of the deep waters. A place where creatures held illumination in their bodies. Her body began to glow with soft yellow phosphorescence. The pain in her chest left entirely. She took int big breath. It was a mistake. Fire rushed into her lungs. Too much too soon. She began to cough. Bubbles swirled from her mouth. One grew and grew until it engulfed her.

It lifted her up toward the surface. She wanted to go down, she wanted to see what was in the deep. She belonged to the deep…at least that is what she always believed when she was submerged by the sea. The bubble spat her into the air. Once again her body began to reverse its course. The transition was always so painful. She braced herself and waited it out. Why did this keep happening. Exhausted she swam back to shore. Once again, she had escaped the darkness. Once again, she had come so close to whatever lay beyond, only to be snatched back.

Cleo saw her rise from the water. Her eyes were frightened. Her blonde hair had lost its scrunchy and was blowing around her face like a dervish. Her clear voice cut through the roar of the wind and waves. She asked, “Mama are you all right?”

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Reality rushed over Sophia like ice. Was this child the reason she never went further than the edge of the dark waters? This child needed her now. She put her arms around her and said, “Mama is fine.”

Really Mama was not fine. Something festered within her and drove her to the sea. It tempted her like an addiction, but it hadn’t taken her yet. It mustn’t take her. Cleo needed her.

Hand in hand they went back to the sand castle. Its sand pail structure was surrounded by a moat. Sophia felt like her life was surrounded by a moat. A moat named Cleo. Moats were for protection to keep the enemy out. Sophia glanced back at the sea. Sometimes it was her enemy, one day it might be the death of her.

From the tent, her husband, Robert emerged. He was young, handsome and she had once thought he was a god. Now he was a grumpy man working on his thesis in Marine Biology. They were living in Corpus Christi while he studied. On his shoulder was his backpack full of chemicals to test water and test creatures. Sophia found squirting stuff on innocent jelly fish and crabs disgusting and cruel. Cleo didn’t like it either so Robert headed out to the skiff alone.

As he walked away, he glanced back and said, “Don’t be going into the water while I’m gone.”

Sophia nodded. He knew something was up, he just didn’t know what it was. She turned her back to the sea and focused on the sandcastle. Cleo was quite an artistic child. She has sculpted delicate lines in the sand that looked Ike bricks and ivy. It was actually quite pretty. It reminded Sophia of the sandcastles her mother used to make when she was a child. If only her mother had gotten to meet Cleo. This was Sophia’s life long regret.

Cleo’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Daddy gave me these little shells. Aren’t they pretty?”

“Yes, dear, they are.”

“I want you to put them around the top of the castle.” Cleo pointed at the upper rim and handed the shells to Sophia.

Sunlight caught on the iridescent underside of the shells. Sophia pressed the shells into the castle with the iridescence facing out.

Cleo said, “That’s perfect Mama.”

A blessed silence settled upon mother and child as they worked. When the sand castle was finished, Cleo said, “This is what our house looks like at the bottom of the sea.”

Caught off guard by this statement, Sophia asked, “What are you talking about?”

Cleo gave her a patient smile. “Its our house, the one you try to look for but can’t reach. Do you think you will reach it some day Mama?”

Utterly shaken by this question, Sophia managed to stutter, “I hope not. We don’t know what’s down there and it might not be good for us.”

Squinting in the sunlight, Cleo said, “That’s okay. Daddy knows. You just never take him with you when you go.”

“But Daddy can’t swim.”

“Not yet.” Cleo turned back to the sandcastle and began to make the moat bigger.