A Minute

5/06/2018 10:32 AM. Manzanita Beach, Oregon. Amy Cleron. 

Somedays I wish I could get away from this stupid town. I kick at the sand. The tide is coming in. All is gray. I’m glad I live on the Pacific and not the Atlantic though. I should kick off my shoes and put my feet in the water. It hasn’t warmed up at all yet, still feels like spring. The water is coming in from the arctic in loads of barely melted ice. I think I see a cool shell ahead. As I bent down to pick it up, I got my flannel all wet. I’m probably at risk for hypothermia now. Then when I freaked about my flannel I lost sight of the cool shell, so it was all for nothing. This didn’t make me feel better at all. I feel like Hayden was especially overbearing, and actually… Actually, he was rude. This morning. Hayden was being rude this morning. This didn’t make me feel better at all. I see other people ahead. Great, just what I need, trying to let nature calm me down in my brooding moment, some lady from my moms church telling me to have a nice day. This stupid town. My stupid life. I’m going to college somewhere warm and dry like New Mexico. They have culture. There’s some raft or something out on the ocean… I think it’s coming in with the tide. I don’t… think there’s anyone on it. Oh god. I think it is someone. What do I do? They’re coming in from the arctic, they were way out there, they’re probably not… they probably have hypothermia! Wait, what if it’s just a human looking piece of wood, like a, like a loch ness monster situation? I need to stop freaking out. I’m going to sit right here and wait for it to wash in. It is just a human-shaped piece of wood most likely. This is not the morning I wanted. I wish I brought coffee. Those ladies will walk by any minute and I’ll ask them what it looks like and I’ll feel silly. 

…

“Good morning!”

“Good morning!”

“Hi! …wait!”

“What, honey?”

Cringe.

“What does that look like to you?”
She follows my finger to the thing floating high on the seas. 

“Oh god.”

“What do we do?”

5/06/2018 10:32 AM.  Outside and above Manzanita Beach, Oregon. A Brown Pelican. 

I have been looking for a while. I usually find something by now.

There’s a smell. Not very familiar, but bloody. I can scavenge today instead of finding something fresh. My wings grow tired. I swoop lower and lower and circle like a vulture until I’m low enough to land.

My feet weigh a human chest down into the water, getting my feet wet.

It’s not dead. Its wound is only a small one, making the water bloody around. I bet its liveliness is the only reason it hasn’t been targeted by something else yet. First come first serve. 

Its breath comes in gurgles. Its flesh is soft like it’s already rotted a bit. 

I pick. 

It breathes out and does not scream. It opens its eyes and cannot bring itself to shoo me away. I’m sorry, but not that much more sorry than I am to fish. If it wants to be treated better than fish it should not be this far out on the ocean. 

I leave anyway. 

Maybe I’ll never know why. 

I ascend once again into the gray, frosty fog above the ocean. 

5/06/2018 10:32 AM. Manzanita Beach, Oregon. Amy Struss. 

“That’s what Josh said. I’m not saying he’s right.”

Gosh, sometimes I have to remember I’ve been friends with Carol for 30 years. Otherwise I’d smack her. 

“Right. I know you don’t believe Josh, though, because you’re a very logical person.”
What do they call it? Gentle parenting.

“Amy, I know what you think. But they are pretty severe rumors and I want to make sure you’re okay.”

This was going to be such a nice day out. It still is. 

I say “Sometimes Jerrys a bit mean because he’s a man and that’s how men are. Doesn’t mean I need help and it’s a desperate situation. Not everything is severe. Gosh, I moved here to have a quieter, small town life.”

“And you have one! I’m not spreading rumors, I’m asking if you’re okay!”

“Carol!”

Sharp exhale. Smile.

“Carol, I am okay. Thank you for asking.”

“Okay Amy. That’s all I wanted to know.”

She said something else but I had stopped listening. I watch the waves gently roll in. They wash up pebbles and shells, sand that isn’t sand yet, up a ledge and onto the beach. I love this beach. I truly do love it here. Sometimes I wish Carol would visit and we would just have girls night in peace, but she always was the chatterbox of our dynamic duo. Oh well. We still have tons of distracting activities to do before gets on her plane back to Ontario. Oh, I’m glad the youth of today is getting out bright and early to enjoy nature! Seems that’s getting rarer and rarer. What a pretty girl. I swear, whenever James visits he’s always with a screen in front of him. I guess it’s not like folks my age are any better. 

“Good morning!”

“Good morning!”

“Hi! …wait!”

She sounds worried. If some guy, some loser is following her or-

“What, honey?”

“What does that look like to you?”
I follow her finger to the thing floating high on the seas. 

“Oh god.”

Carol sees and comprehends before I do. Someone dead is out on the ocean. It looks like they’ve been dead a while. 

“What do we do?”

5/06/2018 10:32 AM. Outside Manzanita Beach, Oregon. Unknown. 

I’m so thirsty. I stopped feeling cold a while ago. It’s hot now.

I float. I try to move my head and peek out at what’s around me. 

Only thing around me for miles and miles on all sides is ocean. 

I don’t have hope. 

I saw a last sunrise.

My side still hurts but the wound is washed clean by the salt water now. 

The sun is so bright. My head hurts. My head won’t stop hurting until this is all over. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been here. At first, I thought I’d row to land on the raft when the boat broke. Then, I thought I’d swim to land when the raft broke. But I started drowning pretty fast. Floating works.

If humans are land creatures that need the land to survive, why have so many of us been returned to the sea? All through history, how many bodies land at the bottom? 

I don’t know who else survived.

A bird lands on my chest. 

Birds come from land, don’t they? Are you my olive branch?

He opens the wound in my side. 

No, suppose not. 

I can’t feel my limbs.

My tongue is swollen to the size of my mouth. 

There is nothing around me.

There won’t be for a very long time. 

I will float forever. 

Danny Schiffer is a writer who loves all things unsettling and strange. A large portion of what Danny writes is based on or inspired by dreams. He lives in Golden Valley, Minnesota and currently attends art school. He has a wonderful family including two cats and one dog.