Riptide

He put one hand up and blocked out the afternoon sun, inching its way towards the horizon. His black eyes traced the path down to where the sunlight played across the shimmering tips of the ocean waves, miniscule from this distance. Stretching out on either side, the ocean clutched onto the dying rays of light, only to clumsily scatter them back. The colossal heavenly movements, the infinite reaches of space and the depths of the sea, all blocked out with the tips of his fingers. He sighed and dropped his hand, shoving it back into the pocket of his jacket as he began to walk.
The beach stretched along the curve of the tide, up to a line of trees. They huddled together, whispering to one another in the breeze. The beach around him froze in time the day's activity, now just a twisted design of footprints and tracks in the sand. Behind him, his feet left their own mark over the steps of ghosts. Grains of sand jumped up around his sandals, grating between his toes and under the calloused soles of his feet. The ocean crept up the beach and shrunk back. It could only go so far where it did not belong. The salty water washed smooth the peaks and valleys, leaving behind a sandy tabula rasa. He watched as tiny pebbles were pulled unwittingly back into the sea, rolling and tumbling down into the curve of the tide.
He turned a corner and saw four children playing in the sand. They ran up and down the beach, scooping up water in buckets and hauling it back up to the castle they were building with their small hands. The water sloshed along the sides of the buckets and dribbled along the sand, rivulets leading up and down the beach. A little girl clutched onto a bucket and rubbed out the path behind her with a tiny foot crusted in sand. She hurried up to the construction zone. The leader, an older girl with short bobbed hair, scolded her team's work ethic. She looked up at the sun, looked to him walking over their beach, and called to the group. He watched as they dropped their buckets and patted their hands against their knees, struggling up the beach. Far off, the silhouette of a man stood looking out towards the sunset, water pooling around his feet. He wondered if the silhouette, like the abandoned castle, would be swept back into the waves.
Looking away, he saw the figure of a young woman in her early twenties walking towards him. She noticed him and began to jog, her shoulder-length black hair flowing back and forth along her shoulders. He stopped as she bounded up to him, smiling, her slanted brown eyes squinting at his face.
"Taylor! I'm so glad you could make it!" she said, her voice airy from the jog. She placed a hand on the arm of his jacket. "Come on, we've set up a spot and all." She began to lead him across the beach again, following the line of trees. She continued to talk. "Isn't this place gorgeous? My husband and I bring Akemi here all the time, she loves the beach. It's nice to get away sometimes, you know? After all that time in space? Well you must know; you were out there too."
They approached a man in his mid-twenties, stationed over an old-fashioned grill barbecue. His hair was black and cropped short, and dark stubble was creeping down the jagged counters of his jaw. The woman's demeanor shifted as she bounced up towards him, pecking him on the cheek. "Robert, this is the guy I've been telling you about. You know, from the agency?"
Robert looked from her to Taylor, recognition dawning on him. His pale green eyes glinted between the squint of his eyelids. "Ah... Taylor Noire? Nice to meet you finally. I really appreciate everything you've done for Hana." He held out a hand and Taylor reluctantly shook it.
Taylor took a strained breath and let it out. "Yeah... yeah, it was no problem. It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Sheppard." He tried to hold Robert's gaze but inevitably always ended up staring back down at the sand.
Robert tossed aside the formality with one hand and turned back to his cooking. "Just Robert is fine, don't worry about it."
Hana darted her gaze back and forth between the two. "Hey, you like barbecue, right, Taylor? Robert makes the best barbecued steak around." She patted her husband on the back.
Taylor brought his eyes up to her chin and gave a weak smile. "Yeah, that sounds great."
Hana looked him over with a frown. "You're not nervous about seeing Mom again, are you?" She walked up to him and he resisted the urge to step back. She began to tug instinctively at the collar of his oxford shirt, straightening it. "Just relax. You should be excited! It's been twenty-five years! Think of everything you have to catch up on!"
"I'd rather not..." Taylor muttered.
Robert shook his head. "Aw come on, Hana, don't fuss over him like that."
Hana patted the front of Taylor’s jacket and crossed her arms, glancing over her shoulder at Robert. "He's my brother! I just don't want him to be anxious is all." She looked back to Taylor. "Dad's here too, he's down by the water right now." She broke into a wide grin. "Hey, you want something to drink? Water, soda? I think Dad brought beer or something like that."
"That'd be fine, thanks," he said, rubbing his neck. He watched her walk over to a cooler by the trees.
Robert shook his head and leaned over. "I'm sorry about that. This is all she's talked about for weeks, all of us together. Pretty awkward for you I bet. Twenty-five years did she say?" Taylor nodded. He whistled. "Wow. Can't imagine that. So you must have been around when Earth was, right?"
"Yeah, 'til I was five..."
"You want ice in that?" Hana called.
Taylor blinked and shook his head. "No, that's fine," he called back.
"I never got to see Earth," Robert went on. "Gone by the time I came around. My parents told me a little about it though. What was it like?"
"I really don't remember... it was a long time ago..." Brown clouds and grass swaying, white picket fence, hand on the doorknob, no one home... He felt something cold burn in his hand. He looked down at the bottle and smiled at Hana. "Thanks." Movement out of the corner of his eye. He flinched, the golden liquid splashing out of the bottle and sprinkling on the side of his hand. A four-year-old girl came tumbling out from the line of trees, running over to Hana. Taylor recognized her as the same girl trying to rub out the spoiled sand. She tugged on the leg of Hana's pants.
"Mommy! Mommmyy! When can we go home?"
"Akemi, shh!" Robert hissed.
"But Daddddyyy! It's cold!" Akemi bleated, bouncing up and down.
"Mommy packed you a jacket, sweetheart," Hana cooed. "It's by the cooler. Why don't you go get it?"
"'Kay." Akemi turned and caught sight of Taylor for the first time. She ducked behind her mother. "Who's that?" she whispered.
Hana blinked down at Akemi. "Oh... honey, this is Mommy's friend, Taylor. He helped us find Gramma, remember?"
Akemi stared hard at Taylor. He looked away to the ocean, taking a sip of the beer. The lager was smooth with a slight spice to it, and the carbonation made him hiccup. Akemi got up on her tiptoes to try and whisper in her mother's ear. "He looks funny."
Hana blushed and shooed her daughter away. "Go on, Akemi!" The girl skipped off towards the trees, casting glances back at them. "Sorry about that, Taylor... kids will be kids..." She gave a weak laugh.
He continued to stare at the sea, where the man was still standing. "Yeah, of course."
Hana bit her lip and looked over to the trees, where Akemi was starting to upheaval all the picnic supplies. "I think I'll go find Mom," she sighed. "Robert, if you see Dad, could you ask him to set the table? I'll be right back." Robert muttered an affirmation as she hurried off, flustered. He poked idly at the assortment of cutlets on the grill with a fork.
Taylor watched as the silhouette turned and started to move up the beach towards them. The glare cleared and he took a long swig out of the bottle. The man approaching looked to be about in his early sixties. His hands were hidden inside the pockets of a heavy bomber jacket, ruffled over the curve of a potbelly. The planes of his face were roughly hewn, like layers of chipped flagstone. He was balding, and what was left of his hair was bristled and practically transparent. He hobbled up to them, squinting and scowling.
"Where's Tori?" he grumbled to Robert, his voice a bear's low bass.
Robert answered without looking up. "Hana went to go look for her."
"Did she? Where's that woman off to now?" he muttered. He glanced around and noticed Taylor. "Ah, sorry 'bout that. Don't think we've met." He pulled out a thick, veiny hand and held it out. "George Whitaker."
Taylor took George's hand, his thin, calloused hand easily lost inside the older man's firm grip. "Taylor Noire."
The man's grip tightened a bit. "Is that so?" He looked hard at Taylor's eyes. Caught off guard, Taylor stared back. Wide, blood-shot eyes, breath stinking of alcohol and a fist slamming hard against the side of a face, looking up at a curling sneer, a mouth moving and spitting without sound... He jerked his hand away, startled. George didn't seem to notice. "Yep, sure as spit, you're her son." He pointed at Taylor's face. "Same eyes. Well heck, pleasure to meet you."
"Y-you too, sir..." Taylor stuttered. He felt nauseated.
"Hey Dad, Hana wants you to set up the table," Robert said, distracting the older man's attention. George turned and frowned.
"Oh? You know in my day, women set the tables. Brought their old man a brew while they were at it, too," he rumbled.
Robert rolled his eyes. "Sure they did, Pops."
George glanced down at the grill. "Watch what you're doing, kid! Those t-bones are well done if ever I saw so."
"They're medium, I just checked them a second ago," Robert retorted.
"Who's eyes you gonna trust, yours or mine?" George sniffed and started to lumber towards the concrete picnic table several feet away. "Kids these days, no respect anymore. Think they're special 'cause they got this crummy excuse for a planet, this... shrink-wrapped tourist attraction." He looked around at the beach and scowled, spitting in the sand.
Robert leaned towards Taylor. "He goes on like this for hours, 'Earth this' and 'Earth that'..." he said in a low voice.
"'Least on Earth we had some good old-fashioned water pollution!" George called over his shoulder, snatching up a stack of plates. "Tides that go up and down! We didn't go in the water in my day. Ocean was there for lookin' at, not for swimmin' and pissin' in."
"What is it this time?" Hana drawled, walking towards them. She was leading Akemi by the hand, practically buried in an over-size jacket.
George pointed over his shoulder. "I was just teachin' this husband of yours a thing or two 'bout a real beach. We had real beaches back on Earth. Couldn't walk on the sand without splinterin' your feet on scrap metal."
Hana sighed. "Earth's been gone for twenty-five years, Dad. Can't you just be happy we're not living on a rock anymore?"
Akemi climbed up on the table bench. "Mommy, when are we gonna eat? I'm hungry."
"Just a second, 'kemi, Daddy's getting the steaks off the grill," Robert called over his shoulder, hopping the cutlets onto a plate.
"Mommy, I don't want steak!" the little girl pouted. “It’s icky!”
"Don't want steak?" George exclaimed, flabbergasted. "Why, in my day...!"
"Can we please just sit down and relax?" Hana howled.
George blinked sheepishly at his daughter and sat down across from Akemi. He cleared his throat. "Where's your mother?" he asked Hana. Robert came over and set the plate of steaks on the table, collapsing next to Akemi with a sigh.
"She's coming," Hana replied, setting a bowl of potato salad down on the table. Taylor moved over to the table and picked a spot on the end by Robert, as far from Akemi as possible.
"She know her son is here?" George asked, helping himself to the largest tenderloin on the plate.
"Of course she does!" Hana snapped. "Taylor, do you want another beer?"
"Huh?" Taylor glanced at the empty bottle in his hand. "Oh... sure."
"Can you get me one too, hun?" Robert asked, massaging his temple.
George raised a hand. "Me too."
"Right, right..." she turned and stormed off towards the cooler. Taylor looked down at his empty plate and back over the water. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, the sparkle on the water fading. The evening breeze ruffled through his short brown hair.
"Daddy, I don't want the brocc'li! Just the carrots!" Robert was trying to dish vegetables onto Akemi's plate, and she grimaced at it in disgust.
Robert dropped the spoon in the vegetable bowl and threw up his hands. "Serve yourself, then!" Akemi stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed the spoon. Robert sighed and looked over at Taylor. "Do you have any kids?" he muttered.
Taylor tore his eyes away from the sunset and glanced back at Robert. "No."
Robert scoffed and stabbed a tenderloin with his fork. "Lucky you."
Taylor frowned and looked away. Hana was heading back towards the table with two bottles. A rather short, aging woman was beside her, also carrying drinks. He felt his heart sink somewhere into his stomach. From what he could see in the fading light, she was an Asian woman in her late fifties. White had begun to streak across her long black hair like frost. Crow's feet clawed at slanted black eyes, glistening. She looked frail, too frail for her age. Her skin was pasty from years spent hidden from the sun. Her small nose practically disappeared into her face, and her dark lips were pursed in anxiety. Taylor strained his mind to remember how she looked the last time he saw her, when he was five. Nothing.
Hana slid onto the bench beside her father, the beer bottles clinking against the table. George looked up. "Where've you been, Tori?" he asked, half-chewed steak pushed into the side of his mouth. "The kids 've all been waitin' for you."
She gave him a shaky smile as she sat down beside him, setting the glasses on the table. "I'm sorry, George," she said softly. "Lost track of the time." She met Taylor's gaze. "Hello, Takashi."
He froze. Small boy playing on the lawn behind a white picket fence, brown hair turning to look back at the front door where a woman called Takashi, Takashi, come inside... "H-hi," Taylor stuttered, hand fumbling for one of the drinks. He watched her reach for the dishes on the table, scooping their contents onto her plate. His eyes traced the contours of her thin, delicate hands, looked back down at his own struggling to open the beer bottle. "You... you remember that...?"
Tori looked up at him bemusedly. The intense glow of the setting sun glittered along the surface of her deep brown eyes. George was right, he realized; their eyes looked the same. "Remember what?" she asked.
"That name," Taylor replied.
She laughed. "Of course I do." Tori glanced at the bottle in his hand and the smile faded. "So, you drink now?"
"Hmm?" His hand twitched and the bottle toppled precariously on its edge. "O-oh... sometimes, you know..."
"Oh..." Tori sighed, pushing the potato salad around on her plate.
George rolled his eyes. "Come on now, Tor'. He wants to drink, he can drink. He's a grown man."
"I know, George..." Tori said, exasperated.
Akemi craned her neck to look down the table. “Mommy, I want one of those, too.”
“Maybe when you’re older, sweetie,” Hana whispered. She looked around the table. "So... now that we're all here, why don't we have a toast, huh?" She smiled and raised her glass. "To the family back together again."
They glanced at one another and raised their glasses, muttering a toast. Akemi had begun a war between the carrots and broccoli and was paying no attention. There was a tense silence as they began to eat -- everyone but Taylor, who was drumming his fingers on the glass bottle, watching everyone else. For a while they made small talk, discussing work, politics, the weather. Occasionally Akemi would throw a piece of broccoli across the table, yawn, or burp, and Robert and Hana would argue back and forth over her behavior.
Hana sighed and noticed Taylor's clean, empty plate. "Aren't you going to eat, Taylor?"
"Yeah, I will, just... don't have much of an appetite right now, I guess." He bit his lip and looked at Tori. "So, uh, how... how have you been?"
Tori swallowed. "I've been alright... still kind of settling into the new neighborhood."
"Yeah..." He stared blankly down at his plate, sipped at his drink. "What about Dad?"
Hana stole glances down the table at Tori, eager to hear her response. As a little girl she had heard it mentioned that her mother had a family before, that Hana might have a big brother out there somewhere. Tori always refused to talk about it, and Hana knew no more about it until she met Taylor.
Tori shook her head, trying to clear away the memories. "Taylor, you... your father died, a long time ago."
Taylor stared at her. The sun had disappeared below the horizon and darkness swam around the light of a lantern placed on the table. For a moment her eyes were hidden in shadow. He tried to work the lump out of his throat. "He... he did? How?"
Tori squirmed in her seat. "I don't know... he was still on Earth when... when... I thought you were..." She shook her head again, set her silverware down on her plate. Her hands smoothed out her napkin subconsciously; she took a deep breath. "I don't want to talk about this, Taylor.”
He gazed away into space, looked up at the stars that were starting to appear in the sky. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have mentioned it..." he murmured.
"It's alright, you didn't know..." Her voice cracked. Tori’s eyes fell along the thin frame of Taylor’s face, so like his father’s. The way his chin set, the long neck, the tall lanky frame were all so familiar to her. A long scar was fading on his right cheek, and his skin patched around it, dry and weathered. Not a hint of light reflected in his eyes. She wondered if those could really be her eyes. "I loved your father, Taylor,” she continued, “but I can't keep living in his memory... I have my own life, now. I have to make my own memories."
Her own life… Taylor looked around the table, everyone avoiding his eyes. He saw Tori’s eyes and delicate frame repeated in Hana, the same eyes in Akemi, mixed with Robert’s spunk and George’s wit. He imagined Hana as a little girl, growing up, falling in love, having a daughter, all with the love and guidance of a mother and father. He thought of all the memories they must have together, the birthday parties and loose teeth, the joys and heartache. Everything he had never been a part of. Hana met his gaze. All of a sudden he felt very far away.
"What about you?" Tori asked slowly. "How have you been?"
His mind was racing. A rush of images flashed through his head. He saw himself as a little boy, crying and alone; saw himself growing up in a plain room, fourteen years old. A blow to the head and shackles around his wrist. Hundreds of days flashed by, an endless field and stars and his back whipped open, screaming and screaming and screaming, a boy with his throat slit open, a girl dying in his arms, buildings on fire… he tried to smile. "Oh, I’ve been alright. Life is tough, you know?" Taylor gave a shaky laugh, lifted the bottle to his lips. "I mean... one minute you're five years old, next you’re living on a dumpy alien planet… then bam, you're on the auction block. Yeah, things have been really great." He ran a hand through his hair, tried to breathe. "I, I'm glad things have been going so well for you, though. Really, I am."
Everyone stared. Robert looked over at Akemi. "Uh... Akemi, I think it’s time to go to bed..." he mumbled.
Akemi blinked sleepily at her father and scrunched up her face. "Aww, Daddy, I don't wanna..." She yawned.
Robert shook his head and picked her up. He nodded to Hanna and begun to walk away towards the trees. George patted Tori on the shoulder and lumbered to his feet, following Robert. Hana waved and looked back down the table.
Tori was watching Taylor rub his face, his body shaking. "I... I'm sorry..." she whispered.
He downed the rest of the bottle and pushed it away. It was a cold night but he felt oddly warm. "Yeeeaah, everyone's sorry," he muttered. "It doesn't matter, though. Gotta move on, right?"
She reached for his hand. He flinched and jerked away. A tear ran down her cheek. "I wanted to be there for you, Taylor... I really did... I'm sorry you had to go through that, but... we're together again, right? We can start over?"
He hid his face behind his hand, took short rattling breaths. "Sorry, it's just not that simple..." Taylor slid off of the bench, pushed himself to his feet. "I… have to go... thanks for dinner, Hana..."
Tori scrambled to her feet, stood in front of him. Tears were flowing openly now. She looked at the broken man in front of her and thought of the tiny baby she had held, so peaceful in her arms. She held out her hands and touched his arms, feeling him tense underneath his jacket. "Takashi, you... you will always be my son. You know that, right?"
Taylor looked over at the waves crashing on the beach, barely visible in the starlight. "Yeah," he finally replied. He pulled away from her grip and put his hands in the pockets of his jacket, began to walk away across the beach. Tori and Hana stood watching. Hana glanced over at her mother, looked back at him. She ran down the beach and swung beside him, spraying sand.
“Taylor… Taylor, please don’t go,” she said. She tugged on the arm of his jacket, trying to pull him back. “Look, I… I don’t know what life was like for you. But I know that we all want you to be a part of our lives now… Dad and Mom, Robert and Akemi. You have some bad memories, but… we can make new ones, right?”
He tried to brush her hand off his jacket. “Hana… I’m sorry, but… my family died a long time ago. This is your family now. And I really don’t belong in it.”
Hana stopped and let go. “But…” He pulled away began to walk faster. “Taylor…” she murmured. He shut his eyes and began to run, sand leaping around his feet. “Taylor!”
His eyes watered in the cold night wind. Small boy running away from the lawn, the picket fence, running past empty houses, running, running... Hana’s silhouette and the light of the lantern shrunk and disappeared far behind him. The breath slipped out of his lungs and he collapsed down on the sand, looked up at the stars. Chest heaving, he held up one hand and blocked out the stars with the tips of his fingers.

All content © 2011 Krystina Haggerty unless otherwise noted -- Do not duplicate or redistribute