UNDER THE OCEAN (Original)

Chapter Four: Breathtaking

 In the blackness of the caravan, Sam whispered, “Let’s get out of here. Help me get this mattress off, will you!” Pushing together, they lifted it without any trouble; even the fridge was unusually light – how strange!

“I'm going to have a look outside,” Sam said boldly as he gathered his courage, but Jasmine tried to discourage him. “I'll be fine.” The girls noticed the quaver in his voice, trying to hide his fears.

Pushing against the small ‘airlock’, the door felt heavy, like there was strong pressure pushing back from the outside. The pressure could have been a force, or strong wind blowing against the door, keeping it shut tight. Sam pushed harder and then it whooshed open. The door hit the outer wall with a hollow thud and was pinned – leaving a gaping hole that acted as a bridge to whatever might be lurking outside.

Sam fell back violently onto his bum while the force rushed in and filled the caravan within an instant. “What’s this?” he squealed while the bitter cold enveloped him and his companions. A liquid sleeping bag. They tried to hold their breath as long as they could, but it was hopeless. Finally, they could not hold their bursting lungs any longer and breathed in. They felt giddy and odd: were they drowning?

Sarah reached over to take hold of Jasmine’s slender arm: she desperately needed comfort and support. “I don't like this, where's mum and dad?” Sam pulled himself up again and approached the door cautiously. He looked out at the deep blackness. The freezing cold chilled him to his bones, covering him with goose bumps. He could not even see his hand in front of his face. Alarmed, he reached out into the blackness: his vulnerable body exposed to the unknown external environment. He grabbed the door; numb fingers fumbled for the top edge and then he managed to grip it, pulling it closed with a tight squelching noise. He stopped to think for a moment.

“I don’t like this. This is not right!” Sam was puzzled and frustrated.

“Well, what are we going to do?” Jasmine asked vaguely.

“I don’t know. This is too weird.”

“Is it safe here?” Sarah worried. “Can you turn the torch on . . . please?” Sam obliged. Three stunned mullets sat in silence not knowing where they were or what had just happened. Mad thoughts flashed through their minds.

Jasmine had an idea, something to take their minds off all of these bizarre happenings: “We may as well do something . . . instead of just sitting around with miserable looking faces. Why don’t we clean up a little. It will take out mind off things okay?” The others nodded in agreement – what else could they do? Perhaps this was all just a weird dream. Yes, that was it. They would wake up soon feeling foolish.

The torch was the only light they had. Each of them took turns holding it while the others gathered stuff that was scattered around ‘Lake-mists’ small cabin. They absentmindedly put things into some kind of order. Tidying up was an uncommon thing for them . . . most of the time they would not even put their dirty washing in the laundry. After a lot of huffing and puffing, everyone was exhausted.

Deciding to stop for a snack, Jasmine grabbed the orange juice and chocolate chip bikkies, which they had uncovered from the rubble of blankets, plates, cups and other things. Some of the bikkies were broken but there were no fights among the three for the whole ones; they were grateful that they were still in one piece.

Sam went to find the jelly from the fridge. He opened the fridge door only to reveal a sticky, sloppy mess! Seeing the strawberry jelly splattered everywhere, he knew immediately it wasn’t worth scraping off the inside walls for eating. They left it – yet another thing to be cleaned up in the morning.

As they tried to satisfy themselves with drink and the remaining broken bikkies, they noticed how cold it was, how black it was around their shelter.

Eerie silence was its call; unanswered questions bothered them all. Were they still on their back lawn? It sure didn't seem like it. There was no indication of the storm anywhere: no rain, no wind, no thunder . . . nothing really. There was only the children, huddling around the dulling torchlight. They made faces in the light, attempting to make each other a little happier. Trivial chuckles were heard from around the small circle. This adventure had not turned out to be what they expected. It was not fun sitting in the cold dark with crazy thoughts rumbling through their tired minds.

After a while, Sam became bored with their entertainment attempts and broke the games with a declaration: “Pass the torch, Sarah, I want to have a look outside again.” With reluctance, she passed it to him and followed him to the door. Sam cautiously opened it. This time the door opened much easier: no heavy force battled him to turn the chilled metal door on its hinges. He stood like a bouncer in the small door frame straining his eyes trying to look into the blackness.

The cold bit at his bare arms and caused a shiver through his body. He shone the torch outside. The beam did not even penetrate the blackness by more than a metre or two. He could see specks of various stuff and sizes being sucked into its narrow beam, passing harmlessly through. They appeared to be floating along as if in mid-air.

Swinging the beam around like a light sabre sword, he saw a white tennis-ball sized spot moving stealthily and eerily through the dark. No sound and at a creepy pace. He trained the beam onto it. Then realised! This was no tennis ball! It was something that had a grey-flesh mass attached to it! He was looking into an eye of some great creature which was darting into his pitiful beam of light.

Heart pounding, he jumped back while pulling the door shut again. He knocked Sarah to the floor. “Help me lock the latch!” Sam screamed. Panicked and Fumbling, Sarah jumped to push the door bolt across, and tried desperately to latch the security chain. She had seen it too! Trembling and barely able to speak, she forced the question, “What was that? Do you think it's hungry?”

Sam bashed the door . . . “We're stuck! We can't go anywhere!” There they were, all wild-eyed. Silently waiting for something to happen.

After what seemed to be forever, Jasmine acknowledged some kind of groaning noise coming from outside. She had heard it earlier on while playing ‘spooky faces’ but took little notice. It sounded like a low pulse: regular and slow. It was as if they were bottled inside something else, other than the caravan. Something much bigger. She recognised the sound and thought about the way the caravan felt after that storm. Realisation struck her – she knew exactly where they were!

With a deep chilled, forced breath she pierced the eerie half-silence and whispered . . . “I think we are under the ocean!”

Sam gasped, “What? We can't be under the ocean, we'd drown!” Sam knew that was impossible.

Jasmine replied, “Well, where else could we be? I have never seen anything as large as that floating along our back lawn before! Have you?” He knew she was right.

He did a bit of brain crunching, and said, “That’s bizarre! What are we supposed to do about that?”

Sarah answered, “We can't do anything; it’s too dark and dangerous to swim home if it’s true. Besides, we would not even know if we were swimming in the right direction. Look how black it is out there!” Everyone stood as still as three pins. Sarah continued, “All we can do is get some sleep and hope we are alive in the morning.” The older two knew she was right. Perhaps their wild imaginations were getting the better of them and it would all be fine in the morning. The three went to bed and tried to sleep; however, it was hopeless. After much tossing and turning, and brain overload, their wracked bodies were too tired to stay awake any longer. They finally drifted off into their inner-world, where anything could happen.