From Sea to Sea
From
Sea to Sea
Though
she drank the Sea, yet would she thirst.
Between endless sky and boundless waters she lay, rolling with the swell on her raft of salt-crusted wood. Eyes closed and breathing slow, she tried to will her body into cooling down. High above, the sun cast rays like spears down into the water around her. Up from the shining silver face of the sea these spears glanced, arching to fall again on her lidded eyes. Each collision of light with nerves pounded in her head with an incessant, mindless drumming. Beat after beat, each swell of pain stole a little light from her mind, and then receded to make way for more.
Between endless sky and boundless waters she lay, rolling with the swell on her raft of salt-crusted wood. Eyes closed and breathing slow, she tried to will her body into cooling down. High above, the sun cast rays like spears down into the water around her. Up from the shining silver face of the sea these spears glanced, arching to fall again on her lidded eyes. Each collision of light with nerves pounded in her head with an incessant, mindless drumming. Beat after beat, each swell of pain stole a little light from her mind, and then receded to make way for more.
From
over the side of the raft her hands and legs trailed, relieving the
bitter heat in a balm of equal bitterness. Dry salt crusted her
limbs, hair and eyes. A few days ago she, in her desperation, had
tried to drink the briny waters. Now, she was more thirsty than ever
before.
Cooler
than her sweat and saltier than her tears, the wave-run waters spread
to every horizon. So much water, yet not for drinking! Would it ever
end . . .
Ah,
that was the question. Which would end first? The sea, or herself?
She couldn’t know.
Through
thick, dark lashes she watched as the sun began to sink lower in the
sky. Hours passed, each one timed by the roll of a hundred waves. At
last, the sun sank into the sea, first turning the waters
fire-orange, then blood-red and then rosy-pink before it disappeared
beneath the waves. For a long time, the heat lingered, bathing the
darkness in a deliciously humid, tropical warmth.
Then
that too vanished, and the cold of night began. Opening her eyes, she
gazed upwards into a sea of stars. Faint they glimmered and high they
turned as slowly the night wore on. The longer it went, the colder it
became, until she was huddled in the center of her raft, gathering
fistfuls of rags around her in a futile attempt to keep warm. Then a
wind awoke. Catching up her long, black hair, and the blacker waves
around her, it dashed little hails of water against the side of her
raft. Over and over she was struck by these cruelly cold drops, until
her soaked hair was plastered against her arms, face, back and neck.
For what seemed like forever, she shivered, licking her lips when the
salty drops dug their darts into the cracks in her skin. Always she
longed for a cup of clear water.
In
the East, the sky began turning gray. Then from gray it turned to
pale-blue, at last giving way to the sun’s radiant gold. The waters
began warming, the wind died down, and another day of deadly heat
began.
So
the cycle ran, as slowly her life drained into the salty waters
beneath. She wondered if perhaps the sea was not mostly darkness
because of all the lives it had taken – all the deaths it had
wrought.
Ever
she was tempted to forget the bitterness of the sea and quench her
thirst in its endless waters. But no – she pulled her hands from
the swell – she dare not drink that. Certainly, it was draining the
life from her, but she would gain no life by draining it back.
Would
the sea never end? Would she find land? Would she find water . . .
sweet, drinkable water? She had almost give up all hope, until the
fourth dawn broke.
At
least, it should have broken. The sky had long since turned gray,
blue and then gold, before she wondered why the sun’s rays were not
striking her directly. Perhaps a cloud had obscured the horizon.
Pushing herself up on one trembling arm, she looked out towards the
East.
There,
in the further distance, a great hump of darkness rose from the sea –
like the shadow against a wall. She blinked, scrubbing the salt from
around her eyes with equally salty hands. Could it be? Was this a
cloud, land . . . or hallucination? Glancing down at her arms and
legs, she saw no bright rays glancing off her deep brown skin. It
could not be a mirage – for she felt no heat from the sun. But then
how could it be a cloud? Clouds are not so thick and dense. It must
be . . .
No
– she shook her head – she would not dare to hope. Only wait, and
assume it was nothing. That way, she couldn’t be disappointed.
Turning her back to the shadow in the sky, she gazed down into the
deep sea. And yet, no matter how many times she told herself that it
was nothing, still her hands strayed over the raft’s sides, pushing
a little water away as they floated. Pushing her towards the land.
It
was not until sundown that she saw it again. Opening her eyes to
watch the final warm rays recede, she started to see another dark
shadow painted against what was now the Western horizon. Turning, she
looked out over the sea behind her. No shadow. Turning back, she
gazed wide-eyed at strip of land she had just floated by. Land, but
now she was going away from it.
“No,”
she whispered, her voice hoarse and breathy from lack of use.
“No,
no come back,” she shook her head, eyes never leaving the receding
shore.
Then
– O salvation! – she sighted a ship putting out from the land!
Great billows of sail filled with a breeze from the upper airs as the
shadow galleon swept outward from the shadow shore. Swiftly, it sped
along the horizon.
“Help,”
she gasped, staggering to her feet. Her legs buckled, her raft
tipped, and she fell into the sea.
She
surfaced, thrusting frantically against the suffocating depths
beneath.
“Please,
help!” she screamed through mouthfuls of foaming water. As if in
rage at her trespass, the sea began to boil and churn around her. Her
raft was swept away, and she was carried out to sea.
“Help
me! Plea-” she choked and cried, struggling to fight the
overwhelming waves. She had to reach the ship! Or the land! Or
something!
But
she couldn’t see either now. Over her crashed wave after wave,
obscuring the land and blinding her eyes with salt. It was not until
night fell that the waters calmed again.
On
her back she lay in the water, resting her pain-wracked limbs –
trying to breathe calmly as the cold water around her sapped the life
from her bones. No, no she was so close! The sea would not win . . .
“Breathe,
breathe,” she whispered to herself, and tried to hum a tune – but
she couldn’t remember any. At last, as if from the deeps below, a
song rose to her mind which she knew had been sung before, but never
to her:
“From
sea to sea and land between
One
is known, the other seen
Blues
and greens are aquamarine
And
it all ends in the Sea.
“From
sea to sea and wrecks below
Countless
ones you’ll never know
Gone
into where you will go
For
it all ends in the Sea.
“From
sea to sea and rivers and streams
Carrying
down the endless dreams
Into
a cup that has no seams
Where
they all end in the Sea.
“From
sea to sea and ashes that fly
From
the fires and through the sky
Borne
on winds to founder and die
For
they all end in the Sea.
“From
sea to sea without a breath
Ripples
and waves that sing of death
Carry
each creature that wandereth
And
end them in the sea.
“From
sea to sea I now have come
My
journey’s o’er – the battle’s done
I
have not sought, yet found a home
My
ending in the sea.”
So
singing, she rode the swell, her body her raft, her beating heart,
her final prayer. And as the night drew on, that heart beat slower
and slower unto the dawn.
Across
golden sand all streaked with cream and pink he walked, gazing out
over a dawn-lit sea, and wondering what the next day would bring.
He
had not gone far, before he found it.
“Good
Lord,” he gasped, sprinting the few final yards and falling to his
knees in the wet sand beside a dark, still form. Hesitantly, he
touched her face, and finding it icy cold, gathered her wasted frame
into his arms.
“Wake,
lass, wake now,” he whispered, rubbing her hands and stroking her
face. With a low moan, she stirred, and slowly her salt-crusted eyes
cracked open.
“There
y’are,” he murmured, smiling with relief into her sun-burnt face,
“Ye’ll be set right soon.”
“W-w,”
she struggled to speak.
“Ye
want water?” he asked, already moving to lay her down.
She
shook her head faintly, and lifting a trembling hand, pointed out
Eastwards over the sea.
After
a quizzically silent pause, he guessed her unspoken question.
“That’ll
be the Inio Sea,” he said.
She
pointed Westwards.
“And
the Anio Sea,” he said.
As
her eyes strayed back and forth between the two seas, they slowly
closed. She heaved a sigh, that almost sounded like a laugh, though
it was much sadder. Her hand which lay across his own, relaxed,
slipped, and fell into the water at her side.
Gently,
he heard a last murmur steal up from her parted lips:
“From
sea to sea, and land between”
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