Magic by the Sea

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Chapter One

Magic by the Sea

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Ryan sat back against a cool rock, cleaning his fishing tackle. He had managed to catch a sizable brown trout. Not bad for two hours of stillness. He had decided to go fishing after finishing his exams for the week. For all the stress he’d felt, they hadn’t been as bad as he had been dreading.

Ryan lived on a little secluded island close to the coast. The island had a population of around seven hundred people. It was a tight knit community with few shops and even fewer things for teens Ryan’s age to do. The rumour was people could actually swim to the mainland from the island…

If you were good. Really, really good.

This was not an island you see on the holiday resorts shows on television. Oh no. The waters were black, ice cold and were fresh with violent mood swings. There were no sandy beaches but instead sharp rocks and slippery caves with dense prickly shrubs and thick grasses. Even the animals that lived on the island were smarter than on the mainland. Life was tough so the critters were more resourceful. Ryan’s best friend Trent had sworn he saw a fox run off with his mother’s best scarf. Honestly it was more likely that Trent had just lost it. Trent was good at losing things.

The city on the mainland was only a short ferry ride away and it was where more of the young people went to work and hang out. There were movie theatres, clubs, shopping centres and even a Ferris wheel that lit up at night. On clear nights you could almost see it from the island. That was where Ryan’s friends were now. But not Ryan. He needed to go pick up his brother from school. Ryan’s father was not in the picture. He sent them child support but aside from that, he was never a part of their lives.

Ryan lived in a little house with his brother, Tyler, his grandpa Jo, and his mother Alice. His mother worked full time as a research scientist over in a large laboratory on the other side of the island that was closed to the public. Ryan had asked his mother once what she did there. She had said something about improving energy efficiency. Ryan didn’t believe that. Since his father left the little family, Alice had never lied to her sons, but that didn’t mean she told the entire truth either.

The island had frequent storms and winds strong enough to drag you off your feet. The power on the island was out more than it was on so practicing something like power efficiency seemed a little impossible when the electricity didn’t stay on long enough to make a cup of tea. He loved his mother dearly, but she often worked long hours and was home late which meant Ryan was responsible for making sure that Tyler got home from school.

Little Tyler was five and a tiny ball of bouncing energy. With blonde locks, large dimples, and brilliant blue eyes, he was adorable. He went through phases of favourite words. His favourite word at the moment was lemur. He had walked in on Ryan watching an animal documentary.

‘Rye-Rye, what are those?’ Tyler asked, pointing at the television screen.

‘It’s a lemur. They’re like monkeys that can only be found in Madagascar. Madagascar is an island too.’ Tyler watched, enraptured by the leaping fluffy animals on the screen and promptly wriggled into Ryan’s lap, sending all his school notes flying. Grandpa Jo stuck his head around the corner.

‘Whatchya watching tyke?’

‘Lemurs!’ Tyler squealed.

‘Lemur, lemur, lemur, lemur!’

Grandpa Jo was a funny old man. Despite his old age Grandpa Jo often volunteered around town, fixing this and that, working small shifts at the only primary school on the island and doing odd jobs around the place. The man had served in the navy in his youth, sailing all over the world. Ryan had seen a photo of Grandpa Jo. He had been quite handsome with a tall figure, soft face and a cheeky smile that had not gone away with age. Grandpa Jo was a fantastic storyteller, keeping the boys amused for hours on end with his tales of adventure, pranks, and lessons.

The island itself was a mixture of cliffs, caves, small trees, thick shrubs, and open hills. There were two main roads that went right around and through the island. At the centre of the town was a small fire department, the sheriff’s office, an old brick primary school, high school, church, a little pub, a post office, a small bakery, a general goods store and Mr and Mrs. Bentley’s Odds and Ends.

The Bentley’s shop was mostly hardware with fishing supplies of all kinds. But Mrs. Bentley also made her own ice-cream and sweets which she sold in one corner of the old store. Mr. Bentley ordered one odd shipment every time he went to the mainland at the start of the week. It was anyone’s guess what it would be. Last week he had brought a shipment of movies and electronics for the younger generation.

Ryan stretched as he put everything back in his backpack. He put the lid on the yellow bucket holding his fish and set off down the rocks to the well-worn road. A ten-minute walk and he was out the front of the school. Tyler burst from the classroom, giggling.

‘Rye-Rye!’ he laughed, hugging Ryan tight around the waist. Ryan grinned, ruffling the boy’s hair. Tyler was the only living person allowed to call Ryan that particular name. Trent had mocked him, calling him that once. Ryan had punched him hard enough to convince him not to do it a second time.

‘Hey Ryan!’ Speak of the devil. Ryan turned his head. Trent was jogging up the road.

‘Hey there little man!’ Trent bent down to greet Tyler.

‘Twent!’ squealed the little boy. Trent sighed.

‘He’s never going to get my name right,’ he laughed. Ryan shrugged.

‘He’s only five. What do you expect? I thought you went to the mainland with the others,’ Ryan said, greeting his friend with a grin. Trent shook his head.

‘Nah, wish I had but I had to help my dad to finish his deliveries. There is supposed to be a storm coming later this afternoon. A couple of us are headed to the shop. Want to come along?’ Trent asked, his voice booming. The teen was naturally loud.

Ryan nodded. ‘Sure. I’ll drop Tyler off at home to Grandpa on the way. I needed to get some more fishing hooks anyway.’ The little boy pouted at the prospect of being left behind but only for a moment before Trent whisked him up, giving him a piggyback ride.

‘What’s in the bucket?’ Trent inquired.

Ryan gave his friend a victorious grin. ‘Brown Trout. Caught it about an hour ago.’

‘Awesome!’ The trio walked along the road. There weren’t any cars but that wasn’t unusual. Everything was in walking distance so there wasn’t much point in driving. Ryan’s house was old but well maintained. One half faced the open street and onto the sea. The other half faced the rough scrub land. Ryan was lucky enough to have his room on the ocean side. Ryan knocked on the door. Grandpa Jo answered it with a grin.

‘Well, hello there Trent!’ Ryan dashed into the house. He wanted to prepare the fish before he left. He didn’t really need to hurry. Once Trent and Grandpa Jo got talking it would take a while for them to stop. Ryan scaled the fish with swift but precise strokes. He had a very wicked looking fishing knife that he carried on him at all times. Not for self-defence but for all the odd chores he ended up doing like scaling fish. It had been a present from his mother.

Apparently, his dead-beat dad left it to him. At first Ryan hadn’t wanted it but it was a good strong knife. He had never needed to sharpen it since the day it was given to him. With the fish neatly scaled and deboned Ryan cleaned his favourite knife and buckled it into its sheath. Putting the fish in the fridge he strode outside, unsurprised to find Trent and Grandpa Jo still talking with little Tyler riding around on his small blue bike.

‘Ready to go!’ Ryan called.

‘-And that’s why I was banned from the casino.’

‘Wow! That’s awesome!’ exclaimed Trent, apparently awestruck. Ryan rolled his eyes.

‘Come on Trent,’ Ryan said, dragging his friend away by one arm.

‘Your granddad is awesome,’ Trent announced. Ryan laughed. Trent didn’t have any grandparents. At least, not any that lived on the same side of the world as he did. It wasn’t long before the shops came into view. The great thing about living on an island was that it didn’t take long to walk to the important places. There were a few students already waiting for them.

‘Hey Ryan!’ called Catlin. She and Ryan had grown up on the same small street. The teen had dark tangled hair, brown eyes and one of the warmest smiles that anyone had ever seen.

‘Hey Catlin. How did your exam go?’ he asked, accepting a rib-cracking hug from the girl. She beamed, pulling her knitted scarf a bit tighter after she had let go of him.

‘Good! It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Now we have a holiday for three weeks! I’m going to the mainland to live with my mum for the first week. What about you?’ she asked, following the group into the store. The old brass bell tinkled about the door.

Ryan shrugged. ‘I’ll probably stick around here. Grandpa needs help around the house.’

Catlin frowned at his answer as she plucked a bag of barbeque flavoured potato chips off the shelf near the register. ‘Honestly Ryan, I think they can manage without you for a few days. Have some fun for once in your life,’ she laughed.

He gave her a playful shove. ‘I have fun,’ he teased. She rolled her eyes. Ryan looked through the lollies and was surprised to see a little tub of soft red liquorice. Tyler had never tried red liquorice before. Happy with his find, Ryan scooped some into a little paper bag and set it aside to pay for later. Mr Bentley strode into the room from his tiny office in the corner.

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‘Good afternoon you lot. What can I get you?’ said the plump man, cleaning his hands on the old apron he always wore. It had the letter B sewn onto it in green.

‘What did you get in for your special shipment?’ Trent asked, dashing up to him like an excited sheep dog.

The man chuckled. ‘A classic my dear boy. Books.’

Trent’s face fell. ‘Like…comic books?’ Trent didn’t sound particularly hopeful.

Mr. Bentley snorted. ‘Hardly.’

‘Come on old man, don’t you have anything more interesting?’

Mr. Bentley laughed, giving the scowling teen a light shove.

‘Believe it or not, people like books.’ Trent rolled his eyes and went off to look through the tools on a nearby shelf. Ryan turned to follow him but was called back by the older man.

‘Oh, Ryan? Wait one moment. I found this one amongst the others and thought of you. Here.’ Ryan frowned, taking the book Mr. Bentley held out to him. It was a dusty faded hardcover novel with a watercolour painting of a rolling sea on the front.

‘The Lost Islands?’ Ryan read out loud. He ran his fingertips over the slightly raised letters.

Mr. Bentley nodded. ‘Do you recognise the author?’

Ryan frowned, squinting at the name. It read B.J. Whitely. He shook his head. ‘No, should I?’ Ryan asked but Mr. Bentley only grinned.

‘Maybe not. But the story is quite good.’

Ryan shrugged. ‘Alright, how much?’ Ryan said, setting the book down next to his fishing hooks and liquorice.

‘Tell you what, you bring me a jar of your mother’s delicious tomato chutney and I’ll give you that book for free. Really has a green thumb that woman. She’s the only one on this island that can grow tomatoes in that little greenhouse of hers,’ Mr. Bentley said, leaning against the counter.

‘Sure thing. I’ll let her know you said that. She loves that greenhouse.’ Ryan handed over a twenty dollar note for the rest of his purchases. Trent meandered back over with Catlin. Mr. Bentley gave Ryan his change and ushered the teens out of the store.

‘Now you lot best be off home. There is a storm coming and radio says it’s going to be doozy,’ the old man said, jerking his head up at the sky. Trent rolled his eyes muttering something like; ‘No kidding.’ Ryan looked up at the oncoming clouds and felt a glimmer of unease. He hadn’t even noticed them before when he had picked up Tyler from school. There wasn’t the faintest breath of wind. Something that was very unusual for this little town. The birds were gone and there wasn’t sight or sound of a single insect. The clouds were thick, dark, and tightly packed together. There was a dark purple lining around the clouds and soft flashes of light deep within its depths.

‘I think we should get going,’ Ryan announced suddenly aware that Catlin was pressed rather close to him. Their fellow classmates had already been and gone. Storms were not unusual here and the teens knew better than to sit around and wait it out. They each waved goodbye before racing away. He hurried home with his purchases to find a hysterical Tyler waiting for him in the front garden.

‘Hey, Ty what’s wrong?’ he asked, scooping up the wailing toddler.

‘Grandpa took my bike away,’ whimpered the boy.

‘Oh, do you know why?’ Ryan asked, carrying the clingy boy inside and tightly shutting the door.

‘No,’ said the boy with a wobbly lip.

‘It’s because Grandpa Jo is putting your bike in a very special place in the shed. There’s a storm coming, and we have to make sure that nothing is going to blow away. And that includes little five-year old lemurs!’ Ryan laughed, tickling the boy’s sides. Tyler squealed, kicking at him with small sock covered feet. The shed was more like a tank, constructed over ten years ago from stone; it was built to handle storms.

‘Ah there you are Ryan; I was starting to get worried.’ Grandpa Jo padded into the room, rolling up his sleeves.

‘I told you grandpa, you can always ring me. I have a phone,’ Ryan sighed, holding up the mobile.

Grandpa Jo stared at it like it was a foreign species. ‘Bah, don’t trust those confounded contraptions. Besides, there is never any signal in this place.’ Hmm well, that was unfortunately true. Only a few spots on the island had reception. Their house had some. In the bathroom. Jo leant down and scooped up the still giggling Tyler and sat down on the couch. He started bouncing the boy on his knee. Apparently, the missing bike was already forgotten.

‘So boys, tell your old grandfather what you did in school today.’ Family time was always very important for Grandpa. No matter how ill, tired, or grumpy they were, the boys were always expected to spend at least half an hour to an hour with the family with no television or phones. To Grandpa Jo, not eating at the dinner table or talking about each other’s day was barbaric! Ryan kept it to himself that most families didn’t do that anymore. To be honest, he rather enjoyed the times he spent just playing cards or board games with his family. It felt stable and safe.

‘We played soccer and, and I scored a goal!’ Tyler announced proudly, throwing his arms up in the air.

‘And we had craft, I finger painted a lemur! It’s red!’ he continued with a rush before anyone could say anything. Grandpa Jo laughed, bouncing the giggling boy higher.

‘Well that explains those red stains on your clothes. Good job Tyler, we will make a sportsman out of you! And what about you Ryan? What was in that bucket?’

Ryan grinned. ‘I had my last exam this morning, so they let us out early. I caught us a brown trout for dinner. I’ve already scaled it and deboned it. Oh! I also bought these.’ The boys crowded around as Ryan tipped out his bag. He pulled out a rope of soft red liquorice and passed a piece to both of them.

‘What’s this?’ Tyler asked with a wrinkled nose.

‘It’s a lolly.’ Tyler didn’t need to be told anymore. He popped it in his mouth, moaning happily.

‘Any more?’ Tyler asked, eyes locking onto the paper bag. Ryan laughed.

‘Yes, but for later. It will ruin your dinner,’ said Grandpa Jo, chewing on his own piece. Tyler pouted. The old man’s eyes stopped on the book Ryan had brought home. ‘Ah, very interesting. Would you like me to tell you what it is?’ the man teased.

Ryan grinned ‘Very funny,’ the teen laughed, handing the book to him.

The man’s old eyes flicked over the cover with a faint look of surprise. ‘Good book?’ he asked with a sly grin.

Ryan shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t had the chance to read it yet. Mr. Bentley gave it to me today for mum’s tomato chutney,’ he explained.

Grandpa Jo laughed. ‘Your mother certainly knows how to make a mean chutney.’ Right on cue the door flew open as a middle-aged woman pushed her way in and locked the door behind her.

‘Sorry I’m late boys! The wind has started up again. I think this storm is going to be a big one!’ she said by way of greeting. She gave her father a hug and kissed her sons fondly on their cheeks.

‘Mama, mama! Rye-rye caught a fishie!’ exclaimed Tyler, demanding hugs from the woman with his chubby arms.

‘Yes Alice, I hear it’s a beauty,’ said Grandpa Jo with a twinkle in his eye.

‘Well then, I think we should start cooking it before that storm puts the power out.’

‘Again,’ Ryan added with some cheel. Alice was always well dressed, with a fine complexion and just a touch of make-up to brighten her cheeks. It helped to hide the dark circles she often had under her eyes from the long hours she worked. Her dark hair was always swept back into a smart looking bun. ‘It’s a man’s world out there. It never hurts to dress smart.’ Alice had said once. She was one of only three female scientists working in the laboratory and she took her job very seriously. Grandpa Jo and Tyler watched the news on the television whilst Ryan and his mother went into the kitchen. Ryan dug out his fish and some vegetables.

‘Mr. Bentley was asking for another jar of your tomato chutney.’ Ryan said, peeling the carrots. His mother laughed.

‘Oh really, well I suppose I have some left. You can take it to his shop tomorrow on your way to dropping off Tyler at school. Speaking of which, how did your exam go?’ she asked, chopping the potatoes with vigour. The knife clacked rhythmically against the bamboo chopping board.

Ryan shrugged. ‘It went well enough. There were a few questions that were worded strangely, but nothing too abnormal.’

Alice nodded her head as he spoke. ‘Good, good. Now can you grab me some herbs from the top shelf, and we’ll pop this in the oven.’ The vegetables, now seasoned with pepper, salt, garlic and rosemary, took the longest to cook. The stuffed lemongrass fish only taking a fraction of the time. The family sat at the table as the pitter patter of rain began on the roof.

‘Tyler left a lovely finger painting on your desk,’ chirped Grandpa Jo.

Alice smiled. ‘Oh, did he now? And what is the painting of?’ she asked, gently wiping the sauce from Tyler’s face with a tissue.

‘It’s a lemur! Lemur, lemur, lemur!’ Tyler giggled. The family laughed.

When the storm finally broke, it was loud. The thunder felt as though it shook the ground itself. Showered and changed into his pjs, Tyler had already scampered into his mother’s room and crawled into her bed. Ryan reclined in his own bed. He remembered his first big storm.

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Lightning lit up the window through the thick curtains as a terrified six-year-old Ryan huddled in his bed, hugging his teddy with dear life. The following boom ripped a petrified wail from his throat. Grandpa Jo opened the door. He quickly walked over to the bed and sat down, scooping up the frightened little boy.

‘My, those mermaids certainly are practicing very loudly tonight,’ murmured grandpa.

Little Ryan rubbed the tears from his eyes. ‘Mermaids?’ he croaked. Grandpa Jo nodded.

‘Oh yes. Haven’t I ever told you the story of the magical islands around here?’ Ryan shook his head, curls flopping in his face. ‘Well now! As you can see on a sunny day from your window, we are surrounded by teeny tiny islands. But it you look carefully, on some days, you might count a few more islands than normal. These islands are magical. They come and go, moving around however they like.’

‘Islands don’t move!’ sniggered little Ryan with a cheeky grin.

‘Ah, but these ones do! These islands are full of magic, and those that live on and around the island are also magic! There are incredible sea beasts that practice their magic away from prying eyes. Unfortunately, that can cause storms just like this one.’

Ryan shivered. ‘They sound scary,’ he whimpered.

His grandpa nodded. ‘I suppose they can be a bit. But they don’t come out of the sea very often. Because of that they aren’t very good at disguising themselves. They wear socks on their hands and hats on their elbows!’ Grandpa Jo lifted his foot and wriggled his toes. Ryan laughed and then sniffled as another boom of thunder rattled the window.

‘Why are they so loud?’ he pouted.

‘Well they are calling to their neighbours on other islands, so they have to make sure they are loud enough to be heard. Once the storm clears the islands are almost impossible to find. These magical islands disappear in a blink of an eye and the beasts go back into the ocean.’

‘Dad, are you filling his head with fairy tales again?’ asked Alice, padding into the room wearing her blue dressing gown. She looked at her son. ‘Ryan, honey, lightning is just the build-up of static charge in the rain clouds. When the lightning generates heat, the heated air expands rapidly and then contract as it cools which creates the sound we call thunder.’ The two boys stared at her.

‘Alice, honey? He’s six.’

Alice shot her father a glare. ‘I know how old he is!’

Grandpa Jo laughed. ‘Come on Ryan, how about we make you some hot chocolate?’

Ryan hopped off the bed, holding his grandfather’s hand. ‘Grandpa?’

‘Hmm?’

‘I liked your version better.’

Grandpa Jo sniggered. ‘So did I.’

--

Ryan found himself smiling at the memory. He glanced at the second-hand book he had been given. He picked it up and flipped it open. The pages were dogeared in places and there was a smell of age. His eyebrows rose with surprise as he paused at one particular page, its corner smeared with what looked like coffee.

< Beware of the dark creatures that live on these islands. They are from a time long before that of man. Many have seen these islands, but few have ever set foot on them. There one minute and gone the next, these islands could be called magical.>

Ryan flipped the page. In a flash his lamp went out signalling a power failure. Well, that was weird timing. With a sigh he stretched and crept over to his window to shut the curtains. He paused for a minute, gazing out to the roaring sea in the distance. His hand paused on the windowsill.

Was that? No... Surely not?

There, in the distance, were two peaks. Peaks that he didn’t recognise. He shook his head. He was tired, it was late, and it was dark. Hell, he would mistake mud on the window for magical islands at this point. A chill went down his spine as movement caught his eye.

Was someone out there?

There, in the street stood a man. At least Ryan thought it was a man. Surely no woman could be that tall and broad? His clothes were completely still against the gusting winds. The water seeming to rain around him rather than on him. His face covered by a hood, the man stood in complete stillness, staring. Staring straight through Ryan’s window and into his eyes. Ryan stared back. Into eyes that were so black, the storm itself was nothing.

Ryan pulled the curtains across so fast his breath caught. Shaking, he peeked through the curtains.

Gone.

Just like that.

‘Oh man, I must be a lot more tired than I thought,’ Ryan rasped, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. Without waiting for another minute, he crept into bed and pulled the blankets up tight, listening to the thunder and rain, unable to shake the feeling that the wind rattling his windows now sounded ominously more like someone was tapping. Tapping to coax him back to the window. Back towards the street. And away towards the sea.

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END

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