Ocean Cove

The house must be on fire, I thought as I woke up on the first Monday of the summer vacation (July 05). I glanced at the small outdated digital clock on the table next to the bed. It said 7:16. I groaned and wiped sweat from my forehead. I was pretty sure I was having a great dream until this heat woke me up. Isn’t it against the laws of nature for it to be this hot so early in the morning? I threw the covers off and jumped out of bed.

The sheet and cover were also damp with sweat. For the past few days it was getting hotter every day, but the heat seemed to have skyrocketed today. I walked over to the bedroom window and pushed it open hoping to let some cool air in, but this was no help. Instead of the cool air I craved, I was hit with a blast of hot, flaming air that rushed into the room like I was right outside an open oven. I slammed the window shut in frustration and decided that the only way to really cool off was to drench myself in some cold water, so I took a shower.

I was in Dallas, Texas, where the heat had reached a horrifying ninety-three degrees. I didn’t live in Texas, and I just didn’t have the tolerance for that kind of fire; sorry, I mean heat. I’m more of a cold and chilly kind of guy. I was only here staying with my grandparents for a couple of days. Up until two weeks ago, I used to live in New York with my parents. My mom’s a vet and dad’s a marine biologist. I guess you could say we had a great life—I had friends, I was fairly popular at school, my grades were good. Well… okay. I know I liked our life there. But unfortunately things weren’t so good for my parents.

My mom’s veterinary practice wasn’t doing so well anymore. It wasn’t because she was losing her patients, it was because they couldn’t pay her anymore, so now she was doing a

lot of, you could say, pro-bono work. And dad’s situation was worse, because he had not had a job in six months, and that was the longest he had ever gone without work. They had saved some money, so it wasn’t like we were broke or anything, but with bills and car payments (we had two cars) and other stuff, they were afraid we would eventually run out of money.

My parents never hid the fact that we were running out of money from me. I would often see them balancing their check books and hear them on the phone with the bank, and from the sound of their voices, things weren’t going their way. But if they could, they would make sure I didn’t see or hear much of that stuff. Even when I asked they put on fake smiles and said everything was fine. It was getting annoying, them treating me like I was some kid. At seventeen years old I thought I was old enough to deal with whatever they were trying to keep from me. I just wanted them to share what was going on with me.

Well, I should have been careful of what I wished for, because two weeks ago they did just that. When I got home from school, I found them seated around the dining room table, waiting for me.

“Sit down Chase, we need to talk to you,” Mom said when I got to the table. I remember feeling that they were about to give me some really bad news. Dad had pulled his chair next to Mom so they were sitting close together. At that time I wondered if it was for support. Of course it was. Strength in numbers... right.

My mom was black. She had chocolate brown skin and neck-long black hair and she had dark brown eyes. Dad was white with emerald green eyes and he had short, dirty blond hair. As a result I had dark brown hair and light brown eyes and my skin was light, a few shades darker than my dad’s.

“What’s going on?” I asked nervously, looking at them both. Dad was holding Mom’s hand on the table and I could tell that something would change after this meeting. Then a thought occurred to me.

“Oh, my god. Mom are you pregnant?”

She actually laughed a bit, but in a weird way, as though whatever they were getting ready to tell me would be way worse.

“No I’m not pregnant.” She looked at Dad, lost for words. Dad leaned forward on the

table.

“Son, you know we’ve been having some trouble with our jobs and money. We know it’s no secret with you. Well, all that is about to change.”

“You got a job, dad?”

“Yes Chase. I got a job. So did your mother. She’ll actually be working with me.” They smiled at each other, but something was starting to feel odd. Why did they have such grave looks on their faces if they not only got jobs but would be working together? Isn’t that what they wanted all along?

“Is there something else?” I asked cautiously.

“Well, yes. There is,” Mom said. “Chase you know if there was any other way, we would choose it in a heartbeat for you, but we just couldn’t find anything here, and this job is something that we’ve always wanted to do if we had the chance.”

I started to get worried.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, still more nervously.

Dad sighed heavily before he spoke. “Chase, we’re moving.”

“Where? Downtown?” I asked, trying to keep down rage starting to creep out of the flame of hope I had. If it was in the city that wouldn’t be so bad.

“No. East Island… in the Caribbean.” Dad said.

I stared at both my parents incredulously. That had probably been their worst idea. No… it most definitely was their worst idea.

“Have you lost your mind? We can’t move to the Caribbean. We have lives here. What about school and your practice? Mom, please don’t do this...” I pleaded hopelessly. Dad held up his hand.

“Chase, listen to me. I know it will be hard for you, this will be hard for all of us, but we have to do this. We are doing this, whether you want to or not. We’ve already sold the cars and your mom sold her practice. We accepted the jobs, and they’re waiting for us. We have to go.”

My chest felt tight and the back of my neck pained as it always did when I was angry. Anyone could see that my parents were being irrational, and they needed to be brought to their senses before they did anymore irreversible damage.

“Mom, Dad, please don’t do this. I really can’t move. I’m not trying to be selfish or anything, but I can’t just leave now. I’m starting my senior year in the fall, I’m going to college next year. I can’t attend college here if I’m in the Caribbean,” I argued as best as I could.

“We got it all sorted out. You’ll be attending school in East Island. Your school has already given us all the paperwork we need and you’ve been accepted into a very good secondary school in East Island. And as for college, you can decide if you want to attend college here or over there.” Dad said.

I wasn’t ready to give up the fight just yet. I quickly rose from the chair and glared at my parents.

“You can’t make me do this.” I said softly, but forcefully, and turned to walk up to my room. Before I got out of the dining room Mom said:

“We’ve sold the house Chase. We’re leaving next week. We knew you would have a hard time with this, so my parents said you could come and stay with them until we get settled in the house in East Island. We told them you’ll be on a plane to Texas the day after tomorrow.”

I took my bag up from the floor and ran up to my room.

Later Mom came up to my room. I was lying on my bed reading a book by Stephen King.

She sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m really sorry you have to go through this. I know how much you love it here, I mean you grew up here, first rode a bike outside this house, you came home to this house after your first day of school, you ran home to this house with your first black eye.”

Despite my anger, I snickered.

“You got your first kiss in this house; don’t think I didn’t know about that.” Mom joked. “But we just can’t stay here anymore. There’s nothing left for us here and if it makes you feel any better, we don’t want to leave this place either, but we really don’t have a choice. Anyway, you’ll love East Island. I used to live there but regretted that we had to leave…” Mom trailed off, lost in thought, probably reliving some long-ago memory. I folded the top of my page, threw the book on the bed, and sat next to her.

“That’s why I don’t want to leave. Because I will feel the same way. But I know we have to go.” I sighed heavily. Mom took my hand and looked at me.

“We’re going to be just fine. You wait and see.”

She kissed me, then ran her hand through my wild, dark brown hair, trying to make it straight. I pushed her hand away and looked at her. She smiled.

“Sorry. I don’t know why you keep it like that,” she got up and headed for the door. Before leaving, she said: “I love you.”

“Mmm…” was all I said. However, after she left I said to myself: “I love you too.”

So the next day was spent saying a very sad goodbye to my friends, promising that I’d call, text, email, and visit, of course. The day after that, as my parents said, I was on a plane to Texas, a place I liked to visit as little as possible because of the heat.

Now, once again, I was preparing to head off to the airport. Today was the day. This time I was going to East Island, which I still refused to see as my new home. After my shower, I dressed in a single white shirt and a pair of jeans, then went downstairs.

Breakfast with my grandparents was always a quiet affair and I knew that today would be no different. I found them in the dining room around the table already eating. Gran-gran (that’s what I called my grandmother) was sitting at one end of the small rectangular table and Granddad at the other, behind the morning paper as usual, even though Gran-gran was always telling him not to read at the table.

This morning Gran-gran had cooked sausages, eggs, bacon and toast. Since I arrived here, every morning I woke up I would always find breakfast on the table. If there was one thing I could honestly say I would miss when I left, it would be that. My parents thought I was too old for them to be making me breakfast, though Mom still did sometimes. I pulled a plate towards me and started eating.

“Chase, your parents called while you were in the shower. They said they’ll be at the airport tonight to pick you up. Now once you’ve finished eating, you go upstairs and make sure you have everything packed, okay?” Gran-gran said.

“Yes, Gran-gran.”

To get to East Island from here I would have to catch a plane to from here to Boston, then from Boston to East Island and it was about four hours on both planes, so I would arrive in East Island some time that night.

I hadn’t even finished eating half my breakfast, but my stomach seemed to have decided against absorbing any more food. Whenever I had anywhere to go later in the day, I was never able to eat a big breakfast. It always made me sick and today was no exception. The fact that I wasn’t going back to New York also contributed to the sudden wave of nausea.

I pushed my plate away, pulled a can of Sprite towards me and opened it. I always had tea with my breakfast, but when I got here the thought of drinking tea in this heat was just too absurd to bear, so Gran-gran consented to my drinking Sprite with breakfast.

“Why aren’t you finishing your breakfast honey, are you sick?” She looked closely at me. Gran-gran was a black woman with neck-long gray hair. She was fifty-five and had very few wrinkles on her face.

“No Gran-gran, I’m not sick, I’m fine.” I took a swig of Sprite. She kept looking at me as though she knew why I’d suddenly lost my appetite.

“Is there something you want to say?” she asked before she took a bite of toast and drank some bay leaf tea. I opened my mouth to speak, then changed my mind. If I told the truth, that I still didn’t feel any better about this move, they’d defiantly tell my parents about it and the last thing I wanted, even though I was still angry with them, was to make my parents feel guilty about something they were doing to help me. Unfortunately, once my mouth was open, it commanded itself to speak.

“I still don’t feel good about this move. I know this is great job Mom and Dad got, and they can’t afford to pass up positions like these, though I still know nothing about what they will actually be doing. I also know that they’re doing it for me and this move was hard on them too. But what I don’t know is why they couldn’t get a job like that back in New York. Why did they have to leave so soon? Why did they have to sell the house? What if something goes wrong and they lose this job? Where are we going to go? Why didn’t they think about this before they went out and bought a house and accepted a job in the Caribbean? That island’s probably the most boring place there is...”

I was breathing hard and deeply, even though I was speaking in my normal voice. I had no idea what Gran-gran was going to say because I knew she supported Mom and Dad’s decision to move. I expected her to get angry with me for being childish and selfish. I expected her to tell me that I had no say whatsoever in the decision of the move and not to say anything

else about it while I was here. But what I didn’t expect her to do was look over at Granddad and say:

“See? I told you he still felt that way. You owe me five dollars.”

Then she looked back at me. “Chase. Your parents know you’re scared about this move. You’ll never admit it, and that’s okay. You’ve lived in New York for all your life. Your friends are there, your old school is there and your old house is there. But there is always some kind of change in life. Some changes we don’t have to make, some changes we do have to make, and the others we have no control over. This is one of those changes you’ll have to learn to live with. It’s going to be hard at first, but you’ll be fine. You’re a handsome, smart, fun person and you’ll get along on East Island just fine. Now are you sure you don’t want anything more to eat?” Gran-gran asked as she got up and began taking the plates from the table.

“Nah. I’m okay.”

She took my plate, but instead of dumping the uneaten food, she placed it in the microwave, then moved on to Granddad’s empty plate and took it to the kitchen. As soon as Gran-gran was out of the room, Granddad folded up his newspaper, placed it on the table, and looked me straight in the eye.

“So I guess I need to talk with you,” he simply said.

Granddad was tall and slim. He was black, but his skin was darker than Gran-gran’s or Mom’s, and for his age he was fast and healthy. But the weirdest thing about him were his eyes. They were pitch black like bottomless pits, and what really made them odd was the way he looked at you. Whenever Granddad decided to have a little chat with me, he would always lock onto me with that strange, piercing gaze of his. It always made me feel like he could see right into my soul, so instead of looking at him, I focused my gaze on the can of Sprite in front of me.

“What do you want to talk about Granddad?” I asked as I swirled my finger around the condensing water droplets on the sprite can.

“You’ve got to give your parents a break, boy,” he began immediately, though in a soft voice. “They’re trying too hard to be putting up with your behaviour. Everyone knows how hard it is for you to move, but the truth is it’s hard for most people. It was hard for your mother when we left East Island, and believe me son, she hated that we were leaving everything she loved and knew behind, but she knew the move was for the best. She never once said a negative thing about it while she was with us, although we knew she didn’t like it. Chase, you need to support your parents in this. You keep talking about what you left in New York, but what about what your parents left? They are trying to make the best out of the move, you should too.”

At that time Gran-gran came back into the room and stood by Granddad.

“You know Chase, East Island is a wonderful place you’ll get to love. It’s beautiful and rich in history, and you just wait till you see the house your parents bought. I’m not going to tell you about it, but when you see it, it’s going to blow you away.”

I stifled a snicker at my grandmother’s use of the phrase ‘blow you away’.

“Don’t forget the Island is full of legend and folklore.” Granddad said mysteriously, obviously trying to get me excited. I always did enjoy legends and folklore when I was younger, but I kinda grew out of them. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to find out a little about the place before I got there.

“What are you talking about?” I was sincerely curious.

“Oh, there’s a lot of things like magic, and duppies and real scary stuff, like a son haunting his parents for doing something good, good Lord, it can get horrible over there,” Granddad said. I gulped the rest of the Sprite and gave my grandparents an exasperated look.

“Very nice Grandad. Really funny,” I said as he sat there laughing. I made to get up and throw away the Sprite can, but Gran-gran took it from me and said, “I’ll put it in the recycling bin, like I always ask you to. You go upstairs and make sure you’ve got everything. Go on.”

My grandparents headed for the kitchen. Before I got to the stairs, I turned back to Granddad, suddenly curious about something I’ve never thought about.

“Hey Grandad, why did you guys move from East Island if it was so good and all?”

When he looked at me, it was with cold, unfriendly eyes that actually made me take a step back in surprise, though I knew the look came from something painful he was remembering.

“Let’s just say your grandmother and I ran into some problems we had to get away from, for your mother’s sake.” He replied softly, although I sensed a dark edge in his voice which left me worried. “Go on upstairs and make sure you’re all packed.” He said this in his normal voice, then went into the kitchen.

This time I went upstairs without interruption, both wanting to get away from whatever mood Granddad was in and to prepare for the change that was to come.

* * *

Around a quarter to ten Gran-gran came up to my room and told me it was time to go. My plane to Boston was leaving at eleven o’clock, and according to Gran-gran we should already have been at the airport. I had only one suitcase, which I carried down the stairs until Grandad insisted he would carry it, and surprisingly he took it out to the car as though it weighed nothing.

My grandparents drove an old, brown station wagon and it was a very old series, which got me to thinking that Gran-gran was right, we should have already left, because it would probably take about twice the time to get to the airport in that thing. However, according to Grandad, it drove just as nicely as another other car.

Just as soon as we were ready to go, Gran-gran said she forgot something in the house and went to collect, leaving me and Grandad alone in the car. My grandfather was the kind of

man who always told you what was on his mind, even if it was something he knew would upset you. If there was something he needed to tell you, he’d tell you and worry about your feelings later. So it didn’t surprise me when he shifted his position in the front seat (I was in the back) so he could see me.

“Look at me,” he said softly. I was gazing out the window. I reluctantly turned my head towards him and met his piercing dark eyes, relieved to see they were soft and inviting.

“Chase, you’re going to have to learn that change is something that happens in life. Like your grandmother said, sometimes it’s something small, or it can be life-changing. I want you to promise me that when you get to East Island you’ll give the island and your parents a chance to prove that everything will be alright. They need to know that you are going to at least try to appreciate the effort they’re making.”

“And what if say in a couple of months I’m still miserable? Then what?” I asked.

Grandad chuckled and said, “Then you can come and live with us. For once kid, just have faith in them, that’s all I’m asking,”

“You know I was expecting this speech from Gran-gran, not from you.” I said simply, looking at my grandfather, who was still waiting for my word. “I promise. But I hope you know I’m going to hold you to your promise as well Grandad.” He laughed and turned around.

“Alright. I’m ready. Let’s go.” My grandmother said now, getting in the car. I got the feeling that she only left so Grandad could talk to me, because I noticed the only new she had on her since she got back to the car was the sly smile now forming at the corners of her lips.

* * *

When I finally arrived at the airport in East Island after eight long hours of flying, it was 7:30, according to the woman who had just announced over a PA system that a flight for London would be leaving in five minutes.

Through the sea of people exiting through the arrival gate, I saw Mom tiptoeing (along with a few others), anxiously trying to find me in the crowd. As soon as she saw me, she fought her way towards me and pulled me into a tight hug in the middle of the airport. For as long as I could remember, whenever I spent long periods of time away from her, she always seemed to think it prudent to trap me in a tight hug, probably to make sure I was still alive. I had long decided that maybe it was because I was her only child.

“I’m so glad to have you here. I missed you so much.” Mom said as she began kissing every part of my face.

“Mom please, not in public.” I said softly. She chuckled as we left the airport and walked through the parking lot to our car. When we finally got to the car, I was very surprised to see it was a blue Ford Explorer truck.

“Wow. Where’d you get this? I mean it must have cost you guys a lot to rent.” I said, amazed as I checked out the truck.

“We didn’t rent it Chase. We bought it, as it’s kind of a necessity for the work we‘re doing. It’s big enough for both your father and my equipment and let’s just say the public transportation system around here isn’t very good for the convenience of a marine biologist and a vet. And hey, we like it.”

I put my suitcase in the back, but kept my backpack with me. When I turned around in the light from the streetlights I could see she was smiling at me. She walked up to me and gave me another hug, but this one was light and short.

“I really am glad you’re back, Chase. I know it’s silly but, I was starting to feel that you would rather live in Texas with your grandparents than here with us.”

“Mom, you know how I feel about that kind of heat, it’s just not natural,” I joked, then I remembered my promise to Granddad and decided now was as good a time as any to start making good on that promise, even though I didn’t want to.

“I’m really glad to be here Mom,” I said as convincingly as possible. Mom eyed me in the car park where cars were coming and going and she sighed sadly.

“You’re not. I can see it in your face. You’re still upset about having to come here. You know, I thought that you would decide to at least give this place a chance, give us a chance, knowing we didn’t really have a choice,” Mom got in the truck. I got in the front seat as irrational anger began to flare up inside me.

“I am, Mom. I really am trying so hard to give this place a chance. But it’s not easy. It’s not like I can just snap my fingers and say, ’hey all of a sudden I like this place.’ You and Dad may have decided that this is home now, but I will not let you keep me here like some kind of prisoner, I promise the first chance I get, I am getting out of here,” My voice was raised a little. I looked out through my window and saw that a man and woman were gazing at us from their car. Whether they were admiring the truck or were attracted by our raised voices I didn’t know, and honestly, I didn’t really care.

Mom started the truck and rolled down the windows. As soon and the couple saw me looking at them, they quickly shifted positions so they were backing us.

“Hey,” Mom called. I reluctantly turned towards her. She gave me a little smile and patted my shoulder. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I really want you to be happy here. Let’s not fight because it’s about an hour to the house and I don’t want to ride with any kind of angry silence between us.” After I said nothing, she seemed to give up on the patching up thing, because she sighed heavily, pulled out of the car park, and drove onto a highway.

I took the iPod from my backpack, securely positioned the headphones and started playing a selection of songs by Switchfoot. I closed my eyes, and sat back in my seat.

After a while I heard Mom calling my name, telling me we were almost there. Apparently I had fallen asleep. The only light that was available to us beside the truck’s was the moonlight which shone brightly over everything I could see, which, on both sides of the road, were trees—lots and lots of trees. From what I had read on the internet at my grandparents’, East Island was an advanced Caribbean island, but just about half of the island was still covered in forest. The island itself was about the size of its closest neighbour, Barbados, and had an estimated population of two hundred and ten thousand. The weirdest thing about the island to me so far was that you had to drive on the right lane.

A few minutes after she woke me up, Mom turned onto a small road lit by street lights, with a sign on one of the power line poles that read ‘Sam Cove Gap’. After driving on this road for a couple of seconds, she made a right turn onto an unpaved road, but as she turned I looked back and saw that if she had kept going straight ahead we would have been driving down a small road.

“Here we are.” Mom finally got past the trees and came up to a lighted house where a white pickup truck was parked. As I looked through the window I could clearly see that it was a small, white, two-storey house.

I also noticed that for some reason there was just darkness beyond it. No trees or anything, as if there was nothing there, which struck me as odd. I quickly pushed that out of my mind. I took out my earphones and threw the iPod in my backpack, opened the car door to get out, and immediately a strange sound met my ears, as though a wave of water was constantly hitting a brick wall and there was a scent in the air that smelled just like…

“Salt water. The house is by the sea?” I asked, amazed as Mom got out of the car.

“Yeah. As a matter of fact, we’re on a cliff that ends just beyond the house.”

“Oh man. That is soooo cool,” I let slip. I had to admit that a house by the sea wasn’t so bad, especially since I had been imagining that I would be somewhere far and remote, where our nearest neighbours might be a mile away.

Just then the front door opened and Dad came out dressed in a normal shirt and jeans.

He came over to me and pulled me into a hug.

“Ha ha ha. Ah, it’s good to have you here, son,” he said as he released me and went to get my suitcase from the truck.

I was just about to head off to check out the edge of the cliff when I heard Mom shout: “I’m glad that you like it but don’t you even think about going near that cliff edge in this darkness, and I mean it Chase. Stay away from there at night.”

Mom said this in a menacing voice as she and Dad went inside. A little disappointed, but making a mental note to go back in the morning, I followed them in.

The front door led into a small but cosy living room. The inside walls of the house were painted white, just like the outside. There was a beige coloured, three-seater couch at the back of the room, a two seater at the left by a window and the one seater was against the right wall. There was a small glass table in the middle of the room with a vase of flowers in it. In the front corner of the room was a TV stand that doubled as a book shelf. On the shelves under the TV was the DVD player and under that was my Playstation 3. There was a very nice feeling in the living room. Left of the room, at the back, were stairs leading to the second floor, and the back right had a passage way that went further into the house. My parents proceeded up the stairs, so I followed.

My bedroom was the second room on the right side of the second floor. It wasn’t a very big room, I noticed, like the rest of the house. There was my bed, a small built-in closet, a chest of drawers next to it, and a computer table with my desktop on it... Like I said, a small room, but it was just big enough for me.

Dad dropped my suitcase near the bed.

“I know how you start to feel awkward if we linger too long. The computer’s up and the internet’s on. If it’s too hot in here you can open up the window.” He motioned towards the closed window on the left wall.

“There’re two bathrooms, the one right there,” Dad pointed to the door opposite my room, “And there’s one downstairs, through the washroom. Well, I’ve got some calls to make. We’re going out on the boat tomorrow, so I’ve got to make sure everything’s good.” He then turned to Mom. “Don’t stay here too long. The boy will be fine.”

Mom gave him a glowering look as he patted me on the shoulder and left. I sat down on the bed and looked out the window, where I could see there was a tree just outside.

“What kind of tree is that?”

“Mango,” she replied, “I want you to get your clothes put away tonight. You only had to travel with one suitcase so it shouldn’t take you ten minutes. I’ve already put the rest of your clothes away so you don’t have to worry about doing those. Not like you would have worried about them anyway.”

“True.” I muttered and she chuckled.

“There’s some Lasagna in the kitchen that I cooked earlier today so you can go down and have something to eat when you’re ready.”

“Okay. The food on the plane was pretty crappy, so I’ll be down soon.”

Mom came over to me and sat next to me. “It’s weird having to sleep in a new house, in a new country. Trust me I know, it wasn’t easy for me the first night here either, but it isn’t so bad here. You’ll never have trouble sleeping--the sound of the waves crashing on the cliff seems to have the power to just lure you to sleep.” She ran her fingers through my hair, but quickly pulled away before I could say a word.

“Sorry. Old habit. It just feels so soft.” She got of the bed and headed for the door, “It’s really good to have you here. Whether you want to be here or not.” She chuckled and left, closing the door behind her.

The clock by the computer said 8:15. I was feeling a little warm, close to hot. So I got off the bed and pushed up the window to let some air in, and just like it should be, a rush of cold

night air came right into the room. It felt so good to have the cold air on my skin that I pulled off my shirt, threw it over the chair and dropped onto the bed in my jeans. As I lay there with the sound of the waves finding its way in from outside, and the cool air circulating in the room, I found it hard to focus on hating this place, because I could finally admit to myself that before long I would be calling it home. I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, intending to get up and head downstairs, but it seemed that Mom was right about the power of those waves, because before long I was asleep with the sound of the sea in my ears.