And The Waves Crash On

Chapter Five

John is missing. The words played over and over in my head until I felt like I could pass out. It couldn't be true. It wasn't true. I felt like it was just a dream and at anytime John would throw a pillow on my head, and I'd wake up and we'd set the table for breakfast. But my mother's continuous sobbing and screaming brought me back to my hell of a reality. My father was downstairs by this time and was ushering us all, (Claire happened to be there as well), to the van to take us to the beach.

The less than five minute drive to where John had been surfing seemed to take years. Everyone was completely silent the whole time. I guess they had run out of tears to cry. Dad didn't even turn the radio on. Claire was sitting in the back seat next to me. She softly squeezed my hand and whispered "I'm sure everything will be fine."

Well everything didn't look fine. The beach was covered in police cars. There were at least ten, but definitely more. You'd swear JFK had just been shot. Amongst the crowd of anxious spectators and first responders, I spotted a familiar, friendly face. Parker Hamilton has been the lifeguard at our beach for as long as I can remember. He even helped teach me how to swim when I was three or four.

As soon as we made eye contact he ran over and wrapped me in a tight hug. "My God Lily I'm so sorry." His voice was quivering. "He..he jumped off a wave and I waited and waited...but he never came back up." He was on the verge of tears, and honestly so was I.

"It's ok Parker. They'll find him" He tried to look hopeful, but we were all thinking the same thing; they won't.

"If there's anything, and I mean anything, I can do just say it."

"You know I will." He gave a half smile, patted my back, and lead me back through the crowd to my parents. There was now a tall, broad police officer, who looked better fitted for the NFL, questioning them and gathering photos of John and his board. There was another officer talking to Caleb Thomas, John's best friend/surfing buddy.

Despite the millions of miles of caution tape, thousands of police cars, and the officers interviewing my family and friends, this still seemed unreal to me. I kept glancing out to sea hoping that he'd come riding in on the next big wave. Or maybe he'd just come running, butting in front of the wall of dazed spectators to see what all of the commotion was about. But like a five year old realizing that a tantrum won't get you a new toy, I came to the damn hard realization that this wasn't just some sick joke. This was our new reality.

"Why don't you folks go home and get some rest. I'll be by to check up tomorrow." This was the only sentence that I really heard throughout Mr. Football's, or I guess his name was "Jake. Jake Courtenay," question period. He shook my dad's hand, and gave my mom and Claire a hug and kiss on the cheek. He didn't even say hi! to me. I guess he didn't realize I was family too. Or maybe he just hated me. Either way, nobody really cared and just started slowly shuffling toward the van.

The drive home seemed a little shorter than the five year drive to the beach, but it was bone chilling silent. You could hear the gas draining if you listened closely. When we got home, everybody shuffled in the house like zombies. I just kind of got left behind. They probably felt like I, an unstable growing teen, could handle this myself, even if they as fully functioning adults couldn't. Ok, maybe I'm a bit bitchy sometimes.

They gathered in the dining room, just sitting there with the lights off. Crying. It didn't really seem like they were looking for, nor wanting me to join them so I grabbed some soft blankets and snuggled on our couch. I glanced at my phone to see what time it was. It was 7:57pm. Oh and I also happened to notice that I had almost twenty missed calls and probably double that amount of texts. I groaned. I really didn't feel like talking to anyone right now. I only wanted John. I felt warm, salty, teardrops find their way to my tongue, but after a matter of three or four I was sound asleep.

My eyes flickered open after hearing about the 700th text message come through. I still didn't answer any. As I began to come to my senses, I realized the T.V was on. The news was on, and guess what the top story was. Yup, 27 year old local man goes missing while surfing with friends. U.S Coast Guard Search and Rescue suspects a fatal shark attack. The underweight middle-aged woman with bags under her eyes and way too much lipstick on then proceeded to explain how this makes three shark attacks at our beach in the past six months. She also told John's whole, and I mean whole, life story, along with the events of today. Oh tell me something I don't know Susan Landry, I thought bitterly, getting agitated of hearing everything I have lived through over and over again. As if once wasn't enough. But as if to read my mind she did tell me something I didn't know. Something that blew my mind. Something that had completely slipped my mind. It was the cherry on top to make this day from hell even worse. If that was even possible. She said "But you won't have to worry about these monsters much longer. The mayor of Huntington Beach announced that he is commencing a search to find, and kill the shark that took the life of one of our community's brightest." And then I damn near fainted.