The Sea and the Sky
It’s late and the sun has long since gone down, leaving me shrouded in a blanket of darkness, with only the pale glow of the moon to light my way. I can smell the salt even from here, as I drag my dingy fishing boat across the sand towards the shore. Foam laps across my feet, cold and gentle as I push the boat further out into the water.
Once I am out far enough, and I can barely see the small brick houses along the coast, I clamber into the boat and reach for my oars, moving further out into sea. Despite what my brother’s think, the night is always the best time to fish. Don’t ask me why, because I couldn’t tell you. But after six years of bringing in enough trout to feed my large family each evening, I just know.
I listen to the calm sound of the water slapping against the side of the boat, the soft sound as the waves retreat forming tiny ripples. The air is cool this evening and I’m suddenly glad I brought my coat. The ocean is always cold out here, the water like ice—cool at first but then scalding once you are out there long enough. It just depends on how long you have to wait for the trout to come.
I attach bait to the hook and cast out my line, relishing in the splash it makes as it collides with the water, delving deeper and deeper into the sea. I marvel at the serene beauty of it all, the quiet movement of the waves, the tingling scent of salt and sand, the soft sound of water trickling somewhere off in the distance. I lean back against the boat’s edge and close my eyes, enjoying the glorious peace.
I used to come out and fish with my dad a long time ago. Back when the world was a lot simpler and life was a lot easier. We used to sit out there for hours, sometimes not even catching a thing. Just watching the perfectly still ocean and the evening sky as the sun slipped silently beneath the horizon. That was back when he would tell me that everything was going to be okay. And stupidly, I had believed him.
Then I hear a scream.
I sit up so fast, the boat rocks slightly and I c*** my head to the side, straining my ears to hear what I hope was simply my imagination. But there it is, off to the distance, what I first mistook as trickling has suddenly become a violent splashing and I quickly pull out my line and reach for my oars, following the sound of the commotion.
“Help me, please. Somebody help me!” The voice I instantly recognize as being female, but her voice is hysteric; a mixture of exhaustion and desperation. “Please, anybody! Please!”
“I’m coming!” I call, rowing so fast the muscles in my arms begin to burn. Beads of sweat gather above my brow and my fingers are a pale white from clenching the wooden oars so hard.
Once I’m close enough, I can see the young woman thrashing fiercely in a desperate attempt to stay afloat. Her head goes down beneath the glimmering surface of the water and my heartbeat quickens, my blood like lead through my veins. She resurfaces a moment later and I find myself letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
She sees me and is suddenly so relieved the entirety of it all seems to sink in, because she passes out in the water, her eyes closing and her head falling back against the water. I dive in without hesitation, reaching for her limp body which is getting pulled beneath the small waves as she no longer tries to keep herself afloat.
I hold her tightly and pull us both back over the edge of my boat, falling tiredly into it and causing the boat to rock back and forth. I lie on my back and focus on breathing and gathering the strength to sit back up. When I do I can now get a better look at her, as she lies slumped against the side.
She is a pretty thing, with long dark hair, and skin like ivory. Her jeans have a huge rip starting from the ankle and going all the way up to her mid-thigh. Her pale pink skirt has slash marks across it where it looks like someone tried to tear it apart with their bare hands. My first thought goes to her being attacked and then dumped into the water where they hoped she would never be found. Realizing the seriousness of it all, I decide to turn back. I’ll take her to my mother; she’ll know what to do.
Giving her a quick once over, I determine that she isn’t injured other than shock and a gash that is bleeding on her forehead. For now it seems, she will be fine. Only I won’t really know what the damage is until she wakes up.
It takes twenty minutes to make it back to the shore and I haul my fishing boat up across the sand and leave it in the middle of the beach, my focus only on the girl inside. I lift her up into my arms, one holding her back up and the other I ease beneath the bend of her knees. Her head falls against my chest and I can feel her breathing which helps me to relax.
My mother is waiting for me at the door, her light hair golden beneath the orange porch light. Having seen me carrying this girl up the beach, she presses a hand to her mouth and ushers me in quickly, motioning for me to lie her across the table.
“Where did you find her?” she asks, a sense of urgency to her tone. She moves to dampen a cloth and holds it against the wound on the girl’s forehead. My four brothers look up from where they are seated around the living room, eyes wide with shock.
“She was really far out when I found her. She was drowning.” I scratched nervously behind my ear watching as my mother cleans the wound on her head.
“Get me some towels.” She orders without looking up and my brothers move towards the linen closet without a moment’s hesitation. We know better than to disagree with mom when she is like this; all focused and determined.
“Will she be alright?” I ask hesitantly, eyeing the bruise beginning to form close to her left temple.
My mother sighs. “There is only so much I can do, Jonathon. Physically, yes, I can help her. But when she wakes up…” she trails off. My mother is the best known doctor in all our town. Everyone comes to her for help. But she’s right, there is only so much she can do.
My brother, Eric, returns with the towels and my mother instructs me to carry her. “I’m going to get her changed and put her into a warm bed. She is exhibiting the beginnings of a fever and it will only get worse if I don’t get her warm.”
I carry her into the bedroom and my mother motions for me to leave, closing the door behind me. I do as I’m told and wait outside, my fingers tapping against the tabletop restlessly.
“You saved her, you know Jonathon.” My brother Michael glances up at me from where he sits.
Then I ask the question that has been plaguing me since I pulled the girl out of the freezing waters: “What if I didn’t save her fast enough?”

When the girl awoke, my mother called me in to see her. She said the girl wanted to talk to me. When I come into the room, she is sitting upright in the bed when I come in, looking much better than she did before hours ago. Her dark hair has been brushed back neatly and there is now color in her cheeks and her lips. Her big blue eyes are wide and alert as she watches me cross the room from the bed.
I scratch the back of my neck nervously, avoiding her curious eyes. “Glad to see you are feeling better. You look better too.” I add.
She smiles. “I wanted to thank you for saving me. Your mother told me that it was you that did.”
I shrug her off, my tone turning serious. “Listen, and this is important…” I hesitate. She frowns, but lets me continue. “Were you attacked by someone? Is that why you were there? Because your clothes were all torn and…”
“I don’t know.”
I look up, confused by her answer. My eyebrows furrow in thought as she sits there looking blankly at me as if I’m supposed to be giving her the answers instead of the other way around. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
She sighs. “I mean, I do know. I just don’t remember.”
Realization dawns on me, and my eyes suddenly widen in understanding. “What’s your name?” I ask slowly.
She begins to cry, burying her head in her hands. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.”
I hurry outside and tell my mother, who doesn’t quite understand what I’m saying. “Mom, she doesn’t remember anything. She can’t even tell me her name.” Finally she understands and she quickly moves past me towards the bedroom closing the door loudly behind her. She doesn’t reemerge until much later.

That night at dinner we all sit at the table, none of us really speaking or looking at one another. My mother sits at one end of the table, neatly cutting her trout into bite size pieces while the girl sits at the other end of the table moving her peas around the plate in a circle as if the whole concept of food is foreign to her.
Once we realized she had amnesia, I suggested that we take her to the authorities and let them work out where she came from and why she was drowning in the middle of the ocean so late at night. But my mother told me we couldn’t do that. If she was attacked, it’s better that they don’t know she is here. Mom made it quite clear that she was to stay here until her memory came back. Whenever that may be.
I glance at the week old trout on my plate, hard and lacking any sort of flavor. But my unsuccessful fishing trip the night before resulted in no fresh food. Taking my plate to the sink I announce, “I’m going to go get some dinner for tomorrow, save us having to eat this again.”
My mother pats her mouth with her napkin, eyeing the girl as she spreads her peas around her plate. “Why don’t you take… our guest with you?”
I try to hide my scowl at the thought of bringing amnesia-girl along. Fishing is the only time I’m ever alone these days. “Mom, I think she’d prefer to just stay here.”
“Nonsense.” My mother replies, speaking as if she weren’t sitting a few chairs away. “It’ll be good for her. It might help bring some of her memory back.”
I sigh and move towards the front door. Grabbing my bait from the porch I ask, “Coming or not?” The girl looks surprised for a moment before hurrying after me and closing the front door behind her.
The air is warm outside. It’s still early summer and the breeze is warm and covers me like a blanket. It is nearly sunset and the sky has turned a brilliant shade of pink and orange casting the surface of the ocean in a similar color. I have to stop for a moment to admire it all. The girl does as well. We don’t speak and I soon notice her watching me and I shyly move towards the shed behind our house where the boat is kept.
She helps me to drag the boat out into the water and then hops in with plenty of ease. We both grab an oar and she rows out into the water surprisingly well. “I love the ocean.” She comments softly. I lean back against the wooden side of the boat and watch her curiously.
Her eyes are closed and her head is tilted back slightly as she breaths in the fresh scent of the salt and the sand. Droplets of water spray her face and she just smiles, her face calm and peaceful as if the last two days hadn’t just happened.
“You remember being out in the ocean?” I ask curiously, my eyes skirting the glimmering surface of the water. Tiny ripples form around us in perfect little rings. The water looks like glass, perfectly clear and impenetrable. I’m too scared to reach out and touch it, not wanting to shatter the perfect peace.
She sighs, and I turn to watch the gentle wind blowing dark strands of her hair about her face. She reminds me of the ocean, in a strange way. Her blue eyes, open and welcoming, and warm like the sea. Her pale face is shiny and pale, like the water when the moon hits it just right. Her smile wide like the ocean, so bold and true.
Her voice softens, “I think it’s the only the thing I remember.”
I let that settle between us like a heavy stone before I ask, “Can you remember anything of that night? Anything at all?”
“Nothing.” Her shoulders slump and she looks tired and defeated. I’ve seen that look all too often from my mother. These last few years have been hard on her. Sometimes when she thinks we aren’t looking she lets that strong mask she wears slip away and we see her for the tired, hurting woman she really is.
“I just remember the water. Being unable to breath, suffocating, as the water filled my mouth, throat, and lungs. The chilling water was so cold, freezing my blood to ice. It was dark and I’ve never felt so scared or so alone. Then I saw you…”
She trails off and looks away, almost shyly, focusing on the moon above us. “What if I don’t ever remember?”
“You will,” I reply confidently, despite not really knowing what will happen to her. “It’ll come back piece by piece.”
She nods even though I can the plaguing doubt in her eyes. “I just wish I could remember my name.”
“We can give you a new name for now.”
She brightens, “Like what?”
“Oh I don’t know…” I trail off, my eyes reaching out towards the edges of the ocean. “I once knew a girl called Kailana.”
“It’s a beautiful name.” She pauses. “What does it mean?”
“The sea and the sky.”
She smiles, “Kailana. I think I like it.” I turn back to the water, wishing the fish would hurry up and bite. “What happened to Kailana?”
I don’t look at her. “She moved away.”
“Oh.” She is quiet for a moment before asking, “Have you lived here all your life?”
I shrug. “Mostly. We moved here after my dad died, but that was a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet, she sounds genuine.
“Yeah.” I don’t look at her. For some reason I can’t bring myself to. “My mother had to pick up the pieces all on her own. She’s a good woman. Raising five boys isn’t easy, especially when the money isn’t stable and the food isn’t cheap.”
“Is that why you fish?” she asks gently.
“It used to be. At first it was an easier and cheaper way to bring home dinner. Now a days, with my two older brothers working, they can usually bring home enough money to buy some sort of meat and vegetables for mom to cook. Besides, I think they all got sick of fish a long time ago.”
  “Then why—?”
“Because I’ve always loved the ocean. And besides,” I have to pause for a moment, willing the words to come out, “It’s something I always used to do with my dad.”
She waits for me to volunteer information about the man but I chose not to. It’s been a long time, but the wound still hasn’t healed and I often wonder if it ever will. If the loneliness will ever go away. It’s a question I should ask my mother but whenever I catch her clutching her and my father’s wedding photo to her chest with tears in her eyes I know I already have my answer.
“Do you miss him?”
“Every day.” I admit, softly. “Sometimes I come here just on the off chance he’ll be waiting for me. He never is though. But it’s stupid to pretend. I should know that by now.”
She doesn’t say anything and I am suddenly angry for sharing my private thoughts with this girl I don’t even know. But on the other hand I enjoy the feeling of talking to someone. Ever since my best friend Kailana moved away, I’ve always been on my own. Sometimes it’s nice to just have someone there to listen.
“Are you happy?” It’s a strange question that comes almost out of nowhere. But it’s a good question. And it’s near impossible for me to answer.
Am I happy? Have I ever been happy? I try to remember the last time I was really happy. I can’t seem to remember. So I dodge the question and turn it back on her. “Are you happy?”
She frowns and it seems I’ve caught her off guard. It’s a stupid question considering that she can’t remember back any more than a day, but I’m still curious to hear her response.
She runs a hand through her hair and turns towards me. “I guess... I guess I am.”
I narrow my eyes at her, suddenly skeptical, “But you can’t even remember anything.”
“That doesn’t matter, does it? Right here, right now, I am happy.”
I think about what she just said and find myself smiling at her. “Well then, it that case, I guess I am too.”

It was Friday when it all came back.
She was carrying plates to the table, helping my mother in setting it when suddenly she just dropped them all, tears filling her big blue eyes and her hands began to tremble. My mother caught her before she fell to the floor and held her in her arms as she began to shake and sob uncontrollably into her hands. All she could say was, “Sally… Sally… Sally… Sally… Sally…”

 
Her name was Sally Lovatte and she was sixteen years old and had been reported missing by her parents eight days ago after she went out for a walk in the evening and never came home. Speculation about rape or assault were swarming around the disappearance of the young teenage girl.
My mother called up her parents and told them we had found her and that she had lost her memory up until now, that was why it took so long to report her sudden appearance in our town. Her parents were out of town and told us it would take them a day or so to get in and come pick her up. They didn’t sound like they were in any rush, to be honest.
Sally didn’t talk to any of us after her memories all came back. She locked herself in her room and cried and cried not loud enough for any of us to hear, but soft enough that we knew that was the only thing she could possibly be doing. Mom left her food on a tray on the floor by the door and she would always bring it back into the kitchen still mostly full.
A little while later I decided to take the tray of food to her myself, hoping I could coax her into eating some of it. I knock on the door softly, holding my breath as I wait for her to tell me to go away. But instead I hear the slide of the lock and two big blue eyes peep out at me from behind the wooden door.
“I…uh brought you some food.” I hold up the tray so that she can see.
Her bright eyes flick from me to the food and then back to me. Hesitating for a moment, she moves to fully open the door, letting me come in. I nod my head in thanks and move to put the tray on the bedside table as she goes back to sit on the bed, her legs bent at the knees and her arms wrapped tightly around them. She barely looks at me as I sit down.
She looks exhausted more than anything. There are dark circles beneath her eyes and her hair looks as if it hasn’t been brushed in a week. Pink rims the outer edges of her eyes, revealing that she has in fact been crying this whole time. She doesn’t look at me and I know that she won’t.
“Sally—”
“Don’t.” She winces. “Please. Don’t call me that.”
I hesitate, uncomfortably. “What should I call you then?”
“What was that beautiful name of the girl you once knew? The sea and the sky.” She smiles for a brief moment, before the expression soon fades as quickly and expectantly as it had appeared.
“…Kailana?”
She shuts her eyes and smiles as I say the name softly. “That’s the one.”
“But it’s not your name.” I argue, “That’s not you.”
When she opens her eyes they are watery and she looks incredibly pained. “But I want it to be.”
I don’t know why I feel the need to argue with her. Maybe I just think she needs to face reality for what it truly is. “But… you’re Sally.”
She grimaces, “Please Jonathon. Don’t make me be her. Don’t make me go back.”
“I’m sure she’s a lovely girl.” I try to say convincingly.
“She wasn’t.”
I frown, my mind unable to let go of the question that has plagued me ever since the night I found her. “What happened to you that night?”
She takes a deep breath. “It was my sixteenth birthday,” she begins. “When I got a call from my parents saying that they had to go out of town for the weekend and wouldn’t be back for a couple of weeks.” A silent tear slips down her cheek and she doesn’t bother to brush it away.
“They didn’t even say happy birthday. I don’t even think they remembered. They never remember. They’ve never cared.” She bit her lip. “I was so sick of it, you know? So sick of not being wanted. They had their careers, their money, I was just a burden they had to look after. So most of the time, they didn’t.”
I cringe, but force myself to keep my eyes on hers. “After that call I went for a walk. Down to the bridge where I would always go when they did that kind of stuff to me.” She closes her eyes for a moment, reliving what happened to her through her mind’s eye.
“It was an old bridge, but it was right on top of the ocean. My favorite place in the world. I stood right on the edge watching the calm sea below and watching the sun set beneath the horizon. The wind picked up and I knew that it was dangerous to stand right on the edge, especially with the wind blowing so strongly.” She sighs, “I should have moved away from the edge but I didn’t. For whatever reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“Then the wind blew again and I fell forward, my hands grabbing onto the rails, while the rest of my body dangled off the edge. I could have pulled myself up, if I really wanted to. But I didn’t want to. Not when it was just so much easier to let go.”
“So you fell.” I finish for her. “You fell and you must have hit your head on a rock which caused you to lose your memory. And then when you came to you were drowning, and with no idea where you were you began thrashing and calling for help.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t want to go back.” It wasn’t a question. The pain in her eyes now and when she remembered tells me more than enough.
“Take me away, Jonathon.” She says softly, her voice barely a whisper, like the morning’s gentle breeze. “Don’t make me go back.”

She fell asleep shortly after, and I crept out of her room and went to my own bedroom. I got unchanged and fell into my bed, surprised by how easy sleep came. I fell asleep to the gentle rhythm of the waves and the comforting familiarity of the smell of the sea.

I awake to the quiet sound of footsteps, against the creaky floorboards. I hear her soft breaths quicken as she sneaks out of her room and down the hall. Climbing out of my bed I follow her, even as she continues out onto the porch. She doesn’t slow down and neither do I. She creeps down towards the beach and I lose her in the dark. Suddenly she is gone.
I hear the sound of wood against metal and move towards the shed behind our small house. I know she’s in there. It just takes me a moment for me to figure out why. Soon she emerges with my fishing boat, pushing it across the sand and towards the shore. I am frozen with shock as she pushes it out into the seawater and climbs in before reaching for the oars to take her further out.
All I can think about is that I should stop her. I shouldn’t let her run away and with my boat no less. But for a reason that I don’t understand, I let her go. She rows out far enough that it is too deep to simply run and catch up with her. That’s when she turns back and looks out at the shore.
I like to think that she saw me there that night, but I guess I’ll never really know for sure. It was too dark to tell if she recognized me anyway.
She pauses for a moment and my heartbeat quickens. I wave and I swear, I swear I see her smile, her pale face glowing beneath the faint light of the moon. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look as beautiful as she does now. She turns her back to me then and begins to row further and further out and I watch her go until I can no longer see her in the surrounding darkness.
Sally Lovatte was a lonely girl who couldn’t find her way in a world that didn’t care. She was alone and abandoned. But she loved the sea. The sea that was the color of her eyes and as wide as her smile.
I stand out there sometimes, when it’s close to sunset and watch the water from my front porch. The water stretches as far as I can see, to the horizon. It changes color with the light and the soft tint of the sky, from green to blue to gray. At twilight, you can't even tell the ocean from the sky anymore.
Ripples and waves continuously flow towards me, eventually breaking into foam against the shore, before sliding back. The ocean makes a sound like water surging and retreating. Seagulls circle and cry in the sky. The air tastes of salt and smells of sand.
Sometimes I imagine that I can see her out there, sitting in my fishing boat, her eyes wide and bright and she is smiling. I wave to her and she waves back before she suddenly disappears.
Kailana.
The sea and the sky. Unending and unchanging.
Forever and always she will be.