There was no question about it. Harper needed a swim.
And fifteen minutes after landing back on Earth, he was in the water.
Cool liquid enclosed around him, and he hung, suspended in the murky blue-green, hugging his knees to himself, a slow, steady stream of bubbles floating up to the surface from his nose, as he thought and thought.
This was so not his aesthetic. Saving the world…being a hero…Harper didn’t want any of that. And not in that stereotypical way…at least, he didn’t think so. He just knew that he was the wrong person for this. His whole history…none of it was particularly remarkable. Nothing heroic about him…unless you counted the time he beat the previous state record for fastest 400 meter for the fly his sophomore year of high school. Back when people actually thought he might amount to something.
Years. Harper kicked himself back up to the surface, spewing water from his lips as he breathed in new oxygen. That was years ago. Clueless assholes they all were. Just like he had been.
He didn’t want to think about that. The dragon had turned over old dirt, bringing it to the surface, but Harper could use a shovel just like anyone else, and he was reburying it where it belonged. No need to look at the past. Ancient artifacts. He wasn’t some god damned archaeologist. That stuff could stay under, museums be damned.
Still…as annoying as those kids were…they was something about Cirrus that was oddly endearing. That was, of course, a stretch…but she was still somewhat likable. Not easily forgotten, at the very least. Even if she was too much of a smart ass for his liking.
Maybe he was being too sentimental. As he ducked under, he resolved to forget about this whole thing. Treat this like everything else he did in his life. Not seriously.
That night he spent hours staring up at the ceiling, hands clasped on top of his chest, eyes wide in the darkness.
“Well shit,” he said into the empty room, voice bouncing off the close walls back to him.
The next morning was annoying. He still hadn’t forgotten the ordeal, still hadn’t made up his mind, and to top it off, he was tired as hell. He settled for an espresso instead of a coffee, and went straight to the water. He stayed in the cold bay for two hours, mulling over, arguing with himself, reasoning and non-reasoning, rationalizing and irrationalizing. What ifs and maybes. Supposes and consider thises. A general cluster-fuck of excuses and parries to those excuses.
“Why me?” he whined into the sky as he dragged himself out of the water, pulling himself onto the wooden boardwalk. “WHY ME?!”
As if in response, something small smacked him in the face. Instinctively he shut his eyes, but when he took a step back, a sharp pain erupted in his brow, and he yelped. Stumbling backwards, his feet slipped on the puddle of water he’d just seconds ago been dripping, and he fell back into the cold saltwater.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” a voice exclaimed as he resurfaced.
The pain was still there, small but sharp, tugging. He reached a hand up to his eyebrow and felt something prick his fingertip. Tentatively, his fingers felt around the thin metal. A hook? Had someone hooked him?
The tugging suddenly increased, and Harper gave a shout. “Watch, it, watch it!” he cried out.
“Oh my god, I am sooo sorry,” the voice apologized once more, “I didn’t…I didn’t know you were there. Are you okay?”
A girl. It was a girl’s voice. Something was familiar about it.
“Just…give me some slack…” he said, forcing an eye open through tears as he tried to fish the barbed metal out.
YOU ARE READING
Harper (NaNoWriMo 2014)
FantasyHarper's a man of few accomplishments and even fewer aspirations. He is perfectly content with his bicycle delivery boy job, his closet of an apartment, and his daily swim in the questionable town harbor. Being special was never something he had eve...
