The Boat

A little wooden boat bobs restlessly in the inky sea. The starless sky offers no relief. Blackness descends and closes in.

A figure in the boat looks around fruitlessly. Her name is Vida.

There’s no sign of shore, no leading lights. She imagines the shore must be straight ahead of her, where the boat is facing. Then a grip of fear, as she swings around and looks over her shoulder again.

“But what if it’s that way? And I’m drifting further away from safety.”

A shadowy mass approaches from above. A demon perhaps? Or Death? Has Death come to claim her?

The mass becomes brighter as it draws closer. It sheds a dim light over the little boat.

“Who are you?” asks Vida.

“A friend,” says a deep and melodious voice that bypasses her ears and speaks directly into her mind.

“Are you going to join me in the boat?” Vida asks the light.

“I will not join you, for then I too will be lost in the darkness.”

“Then why are you here?  Why come to torment me? You have the power of light but you won’t share it! How do I find my way back to land?”

“You’ll find your way, when you stop looking for the closest shore. Maybe where you belong is not in front of you, maybe it’s behind, maybe it’s far, far away.”

“Can’t you save me?  Can’t you at least tell me which way to go?”

“I cannot join you, I cannot save you. I cannot tell you which way to go. Rest in the darkness. Rest for as long as it takes for your eyes to see light again.”

“How did I get here?” 

“You don’t remember? Your heart was broken too many times and your soul shut down your senses to try to save you.  Your soul brought you to the darkness.  The world was too bright for you.  Too much noise, and light and movement.”

Vida notices that the sea has calmed and the boat has stopped moving.  The temperature is completely neutral on her skin. There are no sounds other than the gentle voice of the being above her boat.

“Am I in a void?” She asks in a panic again.

“You ask too many questions,” the voice says kindly.  “Sit with your darkness. Let your heart mourn until it can begin to heal. Only then will your eyes see the light that is all around you, and your soul can return.”

The being moves away, creating a strange vacuum in the air around Vida and the boat.

She closes her eyes to the darkness, and invites her soul to awaken. 

Vida cries. At first silent tears, then a great wracking, keening howling emerge from deep within her. Lower than her solar plexus, lower than her stomach. The grief comes from below her belly button, her uterus. It’s her womb that mourns and weeps.

After three days the boat is half filled with her tears. The shock causes Vida to stop crying.

“I could stay here. I could stay, let the boat fill with my tears and then sink to the bottom of the blackness,” she thinks.

But Vida recalls the kind voice of the being and even in her despair she knows she wants to find a way out of here.

Vida closes her eyes again, but this time to sleep.  Exhausted from her grief, she sleeps for six days.  

When she wakes there’s a dim, grey light, on the water, like a winter’s dawn.  She is buoyed to discover she is not in the ocean at all, but on a vast lake.

The shore doesn’t look too far away, and in her mind, she knows which way she should head.  Even so, Vida knows it will take her quite some time to reach it.  A time to begin healing enough to be able to leave her boat. And then more time to invite her soul to return and to restore her back to life.

Vida leans over the edge of the little wooden boat and dips her hand in the water. It feels cool and silky and warm all at the same time. She stays like this for a while, and for just a moment the slightest softening reaches her eyes.

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Originally published on the website of my writing group Mountain Ash Chapter. To read more from published and emerging writers of the Dandenong Ranges head here www.mountainashchapter.com.au