The Song of the Sea

Miranda stood on the rocks looking out to sea. Her long blue skirt was billowing behind her in the wind. She closed her eyes and listened to the water crashing on the rocks and the waves fizzling like champagne bubbles as they retreated towards the horizon. The seagulls were squawking as they circled overhead in the stormy sky. Miranda briskly rubbed her upper arms causing a tingling sensation that reminded her that there was blood flowing in her veins and that she was still alive. As she licked her cracked lips, the tip of her tongue met a singular pear shaped tear. Running her fingers through her long auburn hair, she vigorously shook her head from side to side as if she had just walked into a wasp’s nest.

     Young Liesel was sitting cross legged at her feet, playing with a piece of driftwood that she had found on the beach. She wrote her name in the dirt.

    ‘Mummy, look what I have done.’

    ‘Sorry? What’s that, darling? What have you done?’ asked Miranda.

     ‘Liesel. It spells Liesel. Do you like it? I did a big swirly ‘L’ so it looks pretty.’

    Miranda stared at her daughter and then crouched down to kiss her.

    ‘But you never said you liked it’ Liesel said, moving her cheek away from her mother’s mouth.

    ‘Of course I do, darling. Here, let’s take a picture of it. Would you like that?’

    Miranda searched the rucksack. Whilst she was looking for her camera, she unzipped one of the compartments to make sure she had brought the little blue velvet box. Inside was a lock of dark brown hair tied with a miniature white ribbon. Miranda briefly caressed it and snapped the box shut.

    After taking a snapshot, she suddenly felt inspired and switched the camera to video mode. She focused on Liesel, who swayed from side to side, holding the driftwood tightly between both hands.

    ‘Sing me a song, Liesel.’

    ‘Erm……You can have a fishy on a little dishy you can have a fishy when the… boat comes in.’

    ‘Did you know Daniel used to sing that? It was one of his favourite songs.’

    ‘Was Daniel good at singing, Mummy?  

     ‘Oh, yes. He could make up a tune on the spot, even one that rhymed. I only remember a few of his ditties, though. It’s a shame we didn’t write any of them down.’

    Back at home in her attic study, Miranda uploaded the video onto the computer. The sound of the sea was so loud that it drowned out Liesel’s voice. All Miranda could hear was the whoosh of the fresh waves and the harsh crash of the water on the rocks. She swivelled her leather chair towards the tiny window and looked down upon the garden. The lawn was daintily dotted with daisies and the odd golden dandelion competed for attention. The two robins were splashing around in their bath and shaking their feathers as if they had caught a chill. Miranda’s mind wandered. She would never forget the phone call she received on Boxing Day.

    ‘Have you seen the news?’ asked her mother.

    ‘No, it’s Boxing Day. Why what’s happened?’

    ‘Sit down, Miranda, my love. It’s not looking good.’

    ‘What’s not looking good?.........Oh, God……Daniel…’

     The news report said that the tsunami in the Indian Ocean managed to produce waves that were ninety eight feet high, the speed of which could be up to five hundred miles per hour and could last for a whole ten minutes. It was the third largest earthquake ever recorded on a seismograph.

     Daniel had been travelling around Thailand on his gap year in 2004. He called his family on Christmas day, sending his love from the white sanded beach of Kata Noi on the West Coast. He was having a barbeque with his university friends. They had erected a large multicoloured umbrella because it was far too hot to sit all day in the glaring heat of the sun. He said it was strange having a hot Christmas and that he missed Mum’s traditional turkey dinner, especially the gravy. He said he knew the secret to it was the fresh sage and rosemary. He decided there and then that he would make Christmas dinner the next year for everybody.

    Miranda replayed the video. People were moaning….help me…. let me breathe…. garbled bubbling voices… apppopppiibbbbbuubbbb... help me… the whoosh of the waves and the calm retreat of the tide revealing ravaged cadavers on the white sand.

    She pressed delete.