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SEA NYMPH
by Schuyler

He was alone.

Just like he had been for the last six months.

The planking of the pier creaked beneath the weight of his feet. As dusk started to settle upon the world around him, Jarod stared out at the open seas, mesmerized by the faint colors of the disappearing sun reflecting off the deep blue waters. It was a sight to behold, nothing like he’d ever seen before. On the horizon, he could just barely see the outline of a freighter as it sailed off into the sunset. If it weren’t for that blurred blemish, he wasn’t sure if he’d have been able to distinguish Heaven and Earth from one another, to know where the latter ended and the former began.

****

‘Have you noticed how the water shimmers when the sun sets?’

‘I’ve never seen the sun Miss Parker.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry.’

‘Tell me about it.’

‘It’s so beautiful Jarod. As the sun disappears from the horizon, the light reflects onto the water, creating this amazing path of color. Yellow and red and orange and pink; it just all merges together like watercolor paints upon a canvas.’

‘I wish I could see it.’

‘You will Jarod, I promise. One day, I’ll take you there and you'll see it for yourself.’

****

In the distance, the Pretender heard a deep rumbling sound echo across the skies, and the onset of a brewing storm approaching the mainland. A cool whispering breeze accompanied the roar of nature, and he shivered, zipping up his suede jacket all the way to the collar. Continuing to walk down the length of the pier, the lone man's thoughts drifted from the scenery to his existence.

For four long years he had been out in the real world, experiencing a kind of life that he’d been denied as a youth and an adult. He saw the world through the eyes of a child; his highly intellectual mind fascinated by simple luxuries such as candy, television, novelty toys and holidays among other things. What many people took for granted, Jarod blessed himself for having the opportunity to taste it, test it, touch it. His inquisitive temperament took most people by surprise, them being unable to understand the kind of isolated life he had lived for over three decades.

And while he helped victimized people gain justice against criminals and rogues, Jarod also searched for his own family. A father he couldn’t remember, a mother he barely knew, and a sister he'd never known about. A group of people with one common factor: their lives had been torn apart by a sinister corporation who stole children from loving parents, and all in the name of science and money.

Yes, that’s all what he was worth to the Centre: money. And lots of it.

Their only objective was to take him back to the prison he’d escaped from, and redeem the millions of dollars they’d lost in revenue due to his absence. It didn’t matter who they trampled upon in the process, how many lives they dictated and destroyed, or what sacrifices had to be made. His pursuers would do almost anything to drag his sorry ass back to the place where it had all begun.

Making his way towards the beach, Jarod kicked off his shoes, holding them in his hands as he walked barefooted in the sand. It felt so good, comforting in a strange way as it massaged the souls of his feet, the way it slid in between his toes, its touch nearly as soft as silk.

He inhaled deeply, the salty scent filling his lungs like air in a paper bag. It was beautiful, gratifying, consuming, intoxicating ..

****

‘What does the ocean look like?’

‘It’s magical Jarod. I don’t know how else to explain it. It’s like a big blue blanket draped across the land. Sometimes it’s smooth when the tides are gentle, and sometimes it’s creased when the waves are choppy.’

‘What does it smell like?’

‘Like salt. Yeah, definitely salt.’

‘I want to see the ocean, Miss Parker.’

‘You will, Jarod, I promise. One day, I’ll take you there and you’ll see it for yourself.’

****

Sitting down, he scooped a handful of sand and watched as it ran through his fingers, the grains catching a ride on the breeze, floating in the air before gravity pulled them back down. Impulsively, Jarod decided to build a sandcastle, crawling on his hands and knees down to the shore where the damp sand lay and embarked upon his new task. After it was completed, he sat back, arms outstretched behind him, and marveled at his work of art. For a man of forty years, and with no spades or buckets to use, he had done a pretty good job.

The sand was piled in a square a foot wide and almost two feet high, the moisture from the lapping waves helping to hold it all together. Strips of seaweed and numerous shells collected along the shore were used as decoration, wrapped around and gently pressed into the fragile structure. A small twig poked through the top of the castle, complete with a handkerchief that was knotted at one end to blatantly imitate a flag.

Cocking his head to one side, Jarod stared hard at the mound of sand, and concluded that it looked more like a demented Christmas tree.

Miss Parker would have been so proud.

****

‘What'll we do when we get there?’

‘Why, swim in the ocean of course! You’ll love it, except when you swallow a mouthful of water.’

‘What happens when our skin begins to wrinkle?’

‘Then we’ll play on the beach while we dry off. We can have a picnic, just you and me.

And we can throw a Frisbee and build a sandcastle and collect shells while we go for a walk along the shore.’

‘Miss Parker, I don’t think I know how to build a castle.’

‘Don’t worry Jarod, I’ll show you how. It’s really easy, and so much fun.’

‘I wonder what granular silica looks and feels like .. Why can’t I go?’

‘You will Jarod, I promise. One day, I’ll take you there and you’ll see it for yourself.’

****

Pulling himself up, Jarod’s heart ceased to beat as a careless arm accidentally knocked his creation, causing part of it to fall away. His eyes were wide with shock, jaw hanging open, body stiff and straight as an arrow. For ten whole minutes, he was frozen in that position, unable to do anything but stare at the damage he had caused. Then, without warning or reason, a small chuckle escaped his chapped lips.

Hitting it again, another wall of sand broke off, evoking more giggles from the grown man. He began to kick at it, destroying the miniature project which had taken him almost a half hour to build, having never done it before. The giggles turned to boisterous laughter, which then changed to cries of frustration as he pounded the sand with his fists, not caring that some of the shells were cutting into his hand and drawing blood. A thick, deep crimson liquid seeped from the lacerations, unsightly staining the pale beige of the surface under his body.

Frustration soon transformed to anger, with Jarod attacking the structure in a hot blinded rage, his fervent screams of agony resonating in unison with the explosions of the approaching thunderstorm. His shoes were aggressively thrown into the tempestuous whitecaps, followed shortly by his clattering keys, empty PEZ dispenser, worn out leather wallet and a number of stones.

‘Why?’ he yelled skyward, his hands clenched at his sides so tight that his knuckles turned pallid white before moving on to a deep shade of blue.
‘Why’d you have to take her from me? It wasn’t her time yet. She should be alive, pursuing me and waving her gun in my face. She didn’t deserve to die. She didn’t deserve to die!’

****

‘What?’

‘So close but no cigar.’

‘No thanks, I quit.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Mmm ..’

‘Miss Parker, how much have you had to drink?’

‘Why? Care to join me Jarod? We can be drink buddies.’

‘I don’t drink.’

‘Aw, c’mon, what’s a drink between friends? We’ll have a beach party, just you and me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

‘What’s wrong? You sound .. different.’

‘I’m better than I’ve ever been. I’m making my own choices now, and I chose my freedom. They don’t own me anymore. Nobody will ever own us again Jarod. No one.’

‘They’ll come after you. Your freedom means a life on the run now.’

‘You’ve survived just fine, what makes you think I can’t do it? Are you saying I’m a failure? Jarod, what are you saying about me? You’re not my father, damnit, I can do it!’

‘No, of course you can – you’re a Parker. That’s not what I meant though. I just ..’

‘I love you. Do you love me too?’

‘You know I do Miss Parker. I have for a long time.’

‘Do you remember when we were kids, I promised to take you to the beach? I never carried it out .. but it’s not too late. Come by Jarod, down to the beach near my house. Let me do this now, for you; celebrate our new lives.’

‘Ok, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Wait for me Parker, wait for me.’

‘I’m not going anywhere Jarod. I love you so much.’

‘And I love you too. I just wish that you’d let me show you some time.’

****

As the sky growled once again, Jarod exhaustedly collapsed onto the beach, his eyes puffy red, cheeks streaked with tormented tears, torso violently shuddering from the emotional pain as he reeked of intense sorrow.

It wasn’t fair. Miss Parker should never have died.

Childhood memories assaulted him. Saccharine sweet ones of them together as children, making future plans of the things they were going to do and see when he left the Centre. She had been so happy then, so full of life and verve. That innocent little girl from all those years ago had had her mother’s soul, the compassionate part of Catherine that Mr Parker tried to cleanse her of, and had succeeded for a number of years, until she discovered the truth. The truth about her mother’s murder. The truth about her father’s lies. The truth about the Centre. The truth about the Pretender Project. And last of all, the truth about her own self.

Vivid images of him finding Miss Parker’s slender and frozen body floating face down in the water would be forever seared into his photographic mind. He had been too late. She had been so drunk, she couldn’t even swim her way out of three feet of water, and by the time he finally arrived, she’d already left him.

He couldn’t save her.

Damnit. Out of all the people he’d helped since his escape, innocent victims and helpless others, he couldn’t save the one person that meant more to him that his next breath of air.

He had failed her.

Extracting his cellular phone from the pocket of his jacket, Jarod hesitated before pressing the redial button, listening to the tones of the numbers and the ringing that echoed in his ear. He only ever called one person these days. The only individual left on this desolate planet who could understand him, feel and know his pain, his hurt, his fury. The call was answered after the third ring.

‘This is Sydney,’ came the heavily accented voice.

‘Why?’ he spoke into the mouthpiece dejectedly.

At the other end of the connection, the psychiatrist shook his head, letting out a deep sigh of resignation. It was Jarod, again. ‘I can’t answer that,’ he replied wearily, tired of trying to numb the grief that always accompanied these conversations.

‘I could have saved her Sydney. I had one chance, and I let it slip away,’ Jarod whispered.

‘You don’t know that Jarod. You can’t blame yourself for what you could only hope.’

‘I called her .. before she died.’ He ran a hand through his long dark hair, shaking some of the sand out. Ever since her departure, Jarod ceased to bother with his outward appearance, the way he groomed and dressed himself. His hair was disheveled and knotted, but he didn’t comb it; his shirt and pants were creased, but he didn’t iron them; his face contained a week’s worth of stubble, but he didn’t shave. It didn’t matter to him anymore.

Nothing did.

‘She was inebriated, not that it was unusual. But this time, I just .. I couldn’t hear the pain in her voice. It was so serene, Syd, like she had come to terms with her life, the lies and misery her father had created and caused .. and it was then that I knew.’

After his wife’s apparent “suicide,” Mr Parker had raised his daughter to be callous, indifferent and determined. Emotions were a weakness; he would not let them corrupt his heir as they had ravaged her mother. From there, the beginnings of the former Ice Queen had begun. A dominant, condescending, manipulative, chain-smoking, gun handling woman whose presence so many were intimidated by, but dared to call her a bitch behind her back. Those who were able to see through her masquerade, the demeanor she hid behind to mask her true emotions, knew she had had her share of traumatic experiences.

Miss Parker was a fighter.

Wave upon wave of pain and anger, of grief and denial, she fought against the overpowering typhoon with all of her fortitude. When most people would have surrendered to the overwhelming power through sheer weakness, she had stood her ground and remained standing strong, awaiting the next challenge Mother Nature could throw at her. But that last phone call they had shared .. her tone had revealed too much.
In the absence of sadness, Jarod knew she had finally been broken, her desire to continue the daily struggle conquered by the devils who made up the Centre. Also gone was her will to live.

Both men were silent for a long, long time; lost in their own reveries, reminiscing about happier personal times, times before the Centre had decimated their souls. And as the rain began to lightly pour down, Jarod looked up at the sky, droplets of water splattering all over his forehead, in his eyes. Night had crept up behind him and transformed the world. A crescent moon graced the darkness with its illuminating light, replacing the sun’s golden colors with a radiant white. Looking out to sea, there he saw a path of glistening silver extending out to the horizon, like an esoteric stairway leading to infinity.

He stared at the water, watching as the waves beat softly against the shore. It was magical, enchanting, welcoming, inviting ..

****

‘The moon holds so much power.’

‘Does it?’

‘Uh-huh. It provides us with light during the darkness, like a forever burning candle that will never melt away.’

‘I heard that a full moon can change people’s attitudes. Do you think that’s possible Jarod?’

‘I don’t know. It could be. I do know that it can control the ocean.’

‘Really? I didn't know that.’

‘Depending upon the gravitational pull of the moon, the tides can either be high or low. It commands them.’

‘Everything changes with the sea ..’

‘I suppose it does, Miss Parker. But I’ve never seen the moon or the sea.’

‘You will Jarod, I promise. One day, I’ll take you there and you’ll see it for yourself.’


****

Sydney, hearing the stentorian sounds of thunder and the ocean in the background, immediately guessed where Jarod was, and an inner sixth sense told him what his former protégé was planning to do.

‘Do you think she would have wanted you to end it like this?’ he gently questioned.

‘We should have been together. Grown old together. Die together.’

‘But you’re not, and you didn’t, and you won’t. Jarod, you’re still alive,’ the doctor argued, determined not to let him go without a fight. ‘You still have so much to live for- ’

‘No,’ came the immediate rebuttal. ‘Miss Parker is dead. There’s nothing left in the future for me to look forward to.’

‘You’re wrong Jarod!’ Sydney burst out, his voice laced heavily with anger and pain. For a genius, Jarod was not so literate in human emotions and motivation. ‘If you go through with it, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive you. Life is cruel. Things don’t always go the way we plan it. But we have to stick it out. To fight, and conquer, not take the easy way out.’

Although he still resisted the idea, Sydney knew Jarod would not budge from this final resolution. He forced himself not to lose control over his emotions, not now, remaining calm for Jarod’s benefit. Having watched them both grow up in the Centre, he had always felt like a father figure to them both, a surrogate parent providing the only love that Miss Parker and Jarod had so desperately yearned for.

The young woman’s “accidental” death six months prior had had an immense impact upon himself, as it did Broots and his daughter Debbie. Mr Lyle could have cared less, and although he tried to hide it, Mr Parker in his own strange way grieved for her.
But no other could compare their loss to that which Jarod had felt. He blamed himself for her demise.

‘I love you Jarod. I’m so proud of the person that you have become, and all the things that you have accomplished, just like a father would be of his son,’ the older man said in a shaky voice. He hadn’t the chance to tell Miss Parker the same, and felt obliged to do so with Jarod before he lost them both. ‘The things you have done out there in the real world, the lives you’ve helped and saved, you have given people, families, hope Jarod. That is your legacy. More than what I could have ever hoped you’d accomplish.’
Jarod sighed with relief and slight anxiety. ‘Thank-you Sydney .. thank-you for everything that you’ve ever done for me. I am but a mere representation of the true person that you are. Know that I appreciate the kindness, strength, support and wisdom that you have offered and given to me in all my years. I love you.’

Tears began to form in his eyes, Sydney knowing he was about to loose the last positive link to his past. Within his heart, resentment stirred, but he knew that one day, forgiveness and acceptance would ease the pain. ‘Good-bye Jarod. May you find your emancipation.’

Terminating the call before Sydney could make him change his mind, Jarod dropped his phone on the ground and started to comb the beach for rocks and stones to place into his pockets. When he had gathered enough weight, he took one last look at the Heavens, whispering a silent prayer of forgiveness as he began to walk into the beckoning surf.
One star seemed to shine brighter than all the others in the inky blanket of night.

He smiled, and as the weights pulled him down like a ship’s sinking anchor, and his watery grave overwhelmed his vision, a familiar voice in his head reached out to him, wrapping itself around his mind with tranquility and oblivion.

‘Amen.’

(c) copyrighted 11.08.99 , 05:37:58









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