The Wave

The cold air whipped around Noah, burning his cheeks as he stood on the water's edge, letting the ice-cold waves wash over his legs. His brain registered the cold and urged him to step out of the frigid lake water, but he did not move. His gaze was fixed on the open expanse of the water. The lake stretched for as far as the eye could see, an immense void. He imagined her swimming again. Not on a day like today, but on a day when the sun was high in the sky. A day where the water was warm, and the breeze swept over the lake like a familiar hug. He imagined her splashing in the waves, her blonde pigtails dancing with the wind. He stood a few feet away, always keeping a close watch on her. Always, he thought. I was always so vigilant.

“These things happen,” people say.

“You can’t blame yourself forever,” others say.

They don’t happen to me. I was watching her. He had been watching her that day. He watched her as she stepped a little further into the water, smiling back at him with joy in her eyes. He stepped a little closer to the water’s edge. “Callie, stay up here, sweetie,” he said. She took a step back toward him. The waves were starting to pick up. Far off on the horizon, dark storm clouds began their march towards the beach. Noah checked his watch: 3:00 PM. He would give her ten more minutes to play. Ten minutes. He thought of this number often now. Ten minutes wasn’t a long time in the grand scheme of things, but ten minutes had been life-changing that day. If only he had decided to leave at 3 PM. If only he hadn’t loved to hear Callie’s laughter so much. Hadn’t loved to see her bright smile light up her face. Maybe he would have left. But he didn’t. He gave her the extra ten minutes, and at 3:06, his world crumbled beneath him.

Callie splashed in the water, her giggles getting lost in the wind. Noah was snapping pictures of her beaming face. He was lining up another perfect shot when he saw a wave bigger than the others looming above her tiny little head. He dropped his cell phone, and dove lunged for his daughter. The giggles abruptly ended, cut from the world by a cruel knife. Noah reached into the wave, searching, feeling for a sign of his daughter. Nothing. His hands grasped at mounds of sand. As the wave receded, he searched the water’s surface. He dove into the water, frantically swimming left and right, his eyes wide open, searching. The murky water was dark and damning. Finally, he caught a glimpse of something pale and white out of the corner of his eye. He looked down and saw a tiny hand, unmoving. His lungs were ready to burst, but he couldn’t risk surfacing in this swirling green water and not catching this glimpse again. As he swam further down, the pressure in his chest was excruciating, begging him to take a breath. Noah grabbed the tiny hand, dragging his daughter towards him as he rushed for the surface of the water. As he breached the choppy water, his lungs filled with the air they so desperately needed. Several men, who had seen Callie get swept away by the wave, were swimming nearby. They converged on him, helping drag himself and his daughter to the shore.

He laid his daughter’s limp body out on the wet sand. The shrieking wail of an ambulance could be heard too far away. Noah pressed his dripping head against Callie’s small chest, yearning to hear the beat of life. Nothing. Immediately, he placed his hands on her chest. Up. Down. Up. Down. Her once pink lips were blue and unfamiliar. He stared at them as they attempted to bring life back to her, willing those lips to fade back to pink; willing them to break into a smile; willing the wind to return the lost giggles. His hands were numb as the paramedics gently pulled him away to start their work. As he followed them to the ambulance, he knew it was already too late. Callie was gone. The time was 3:12.

Noah often came to the lake to stare at its powerful mercilessness. He often considered diving in and feeling the excruciating pain in his chest again, but he would give his lungs what they wanted this time. He would open his mouth wide and breathe in the water this time. The same water that Callie’s lungs were welcomed with as they begged her for air. This lake, the biggest in the country, always stared back at him in defiance.

“You have no power here,” it seemed to say. He knew the words were true. In the battle of man versus nature, nature would always win. And in the battle of life, grief was winning. Grief washed over him like hot lava every day when he opened his eyes, splitting his cells open at the seams and sending fresh pain to every corner of his body. The only relief he felt was in his dreams. The dreams where he held Callie in his arms and swirled her around the room. The dreams where her laughter echoed through all the rooms of his now lifeless house. The dreams where he had reached her before the wave, snatching her up to safety as she giggled in his ear. But life was no dream, and she was lost forever. He was lost forever.

Noah willed his frozen feet to step forward. The water was like pinpricks on his body as he walked deeper into the lake. He stopped waist-deep. The waves were gentle today, less angry. Perhaps their appetite for death was quenched for a while. Perhaps they knew his plans and were waiting patiently for him. The water opened around Noah as he dove headfirst into the lake, carrying him gently to the bottom of the lake. Perhaps the lake would accept his soul. Perhaps he would see Callie again. Perhaps.