Restless

1: I Am the Sea

AN: So here we begin! First chapter. It's short, but the chapters will get longer! I think it was just good to stop it where it felt right. I'm just introducing characters right now. Anyway, Allons-y!

"I am the sea on a moonless night, calling, falling, slipping tides"

I woke up from a terrifying dream. 

I jumped out of my bed to turn on the lightswitch by my closet. I reached out through the never-ending darkness and lost my balance. My ears were ringing as I stretched my hand out to the familiar wall. Where was it? The floor tipped again and I fell over. Then I remembered. I'm not home this weekend.

I had reluctantly made plans weeks in advance to stay over on my dad's boat, to sail along the coast and relax. But because it was my dad, there was no relaxing. It was always "Get up, get up, we have to..." fill-in-the-blank with any arduous task here. "You have to drop the anchor tonight son, my back's killing me," or "No, we can't stop at the beach, we're much too busy catching shrimp. You like shrimp, don't you?" I hated shrimp. I hated this, all of it.

My mom whole-heartedly agreed to let me go on this trip. I couldn't tell whether she wanted me to "bond" with my dad, or if she just wanted me out of the house so she could court some new boyfriend of hers. I'm thinking it's the latter. 

Tonight, however, I was not worried about any of these things. I was worried about her. Lissa. Her name rang like bells in my head. Why am I worried? Lissa is just a dream, a figment of my imagination. I don't know Lissa I dont need to protect her. I fumbled my way back to my bed in the dark, and sat cross-legged on the end of the bed. I looked out the tiny window of the tiny boat. There was no reflection on the water tonight. The moon went to sleep already. I let my stomach settle; it felt just like the waves tonight. Sighing, I lay down and pulled the salty sheets back over my body. I allowed the ocean waves rock me back to sleep. I doubted it would stay for very long.

-

The stream of light coming through the tiny window shone on my face, warming it. I heard the boat's motor running, so I jumped out of bed.

"Dad? You should have asked me to pull up anchor for you! Is your back okay?" I asked, genuinely. Hey, just because I hate the boat doesn't mean I hate him. He just doesn't understand me yet. 

"Michael? I'm glad you're up! It's nearly noon! Here, steer for a bit," he instructed. I guess I was more tired than I thought. I stepped up into the steering area and took the wheel of the small boat. The sun was high in the sky, beating down on my forehead. I put on a pair of sunglasses and looked out towards the horizon. I saw a small shape in the distance.

"Looks like an island," I said, to no one in particular. I didn't expect a response, but was granted one anyway.

"Martha's Vineyard. I took us North today. How does Massachusetts sound?"

I didn't know, I'd never been. "Yeah, sure. Sounds great." I guess.

The ferry full of passengers inched by us, like a giant sea slug. Another thing I don't like: Ferries. Big, slow, routine, monotonous. I liked our little boat, the Mary-anne, named after my mother. I steered Mary-anne towards the path of the big ship, and looked for the entrance to the harbor. 

My dad had taken this trip a million times over, so he had entrance to all the harbors and marinas. He was practically a celebrity to some of the harbor owners. In fact, as soon as I pulled into the harbor, I heard someone my father identified as "Big Jack" shout, "Hey! The Mary-anne everybody! She's back!" I waved, and a crowd of people waved back. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

-

My dad explained to me that his friend, Laura from Maryland, had a house in Oak Bluffs, MV, that we could stay in. Great, spending another night in a foreign place. I DEFINITELY won't have bad dreams tonight.  The house was small and white, a little one-story retreat, right on the water. Beautiful, I had to admit. Laura from Maryland called my dad and told him that she would be bringing her daughter along in a few days, and that we had the house alone until Saturday. I mentally planned my mood swings, as if that will really work. I stepped up the little wooden porch stairs and dropped my bag on the doorstep. I kicked off my wet sandals and roamed into the house. I will make this a great vacation. I can feel it in my bones.