Anik is the first to spot the ocean through the trees.
The silver beach, the hazy layers of blue sky and ocean like something in a storybook, magical and pristine. He stops and watches from the edge of the highway before making the decision to hike through. He knows it’s farther than it seems and the out and back will add more time to this last leg of the journey, but it’s a primal calling. Rose parks the car and the four of them hike the forest trail, the sound of their breathing drowned out by the ocean.
They drop their bags on the beach. The sun is so bright that it can’t be seen and Anik squints, shielding his eyes in salute. The shoreline stretches for kilometers and the sand is cut in soft gray ripples with ribbons of seaweed and debris scattered by the ocean’s last push.
“This is it. You did it!” Ash turns to his brother. “How does it feel?”
Anik closes his eyes, face to the sky, arms outstretched. “Fucking awesome.” He unlaces and kicks off his hiking boots, stretches his shirt over his head and throws it down as he runs toward the water. It’s farther than he realizes and he pumps his arms and legs harder, pushing himself further still. The others catch up and together they run into the water, screaming and laughing, their voices barely audible above the ocean roar. The tide rolls in and uproots them. They hold hands and count down, catching the jump end of each oncoming wave.
After they dry off, Anik sends the others on their way, watching until they fall out of sight. It’s his idea to walk the last leg alone, to have time to reflect on what, if anything, he’s learned. He combs through his thoughts and chuckles. So much of his wisdom has been reduced to tweetable sentiment. Life is not a straight line, solitude is a state of mind, noticing is an act of courage, love is many things and being is enough. He shakes his head, amused that after walking hundreds of kilometers, all he has is one-liners that Rose would love and he wonders how much of the journey is about who you’re with.
As he treks along the highway he notes the Tsunami Evacuation Route signs and wonders how long it would take to get to higher ground. If an earthquake triggered a wave, there would be no real escape. He saw the 2004 tsunami on the news, saw the waves break over a tropical holiday resort, saw the aftermath and ruin of what was left. How quickly something became the worst sort of nothing, the emptiness of a place ripped away from itself, mutilated and mangled, laid to waste. There he was sitting in the living room, building the Lego set Santa gave him, when somewhere half a world away, everything had been washed away. He had nightmares after that. Asleep in his bed, he was awakened by a steady drip of water from the ceiling onto his face. When he opened his eyes, the ceiling fell open, and he was immersed in water and night. He swam out a window, kicking his legs like a frog, but there was no end to the water, nowhere to take a breath. Panic stricken, he clutched at his chest and his heart burst open, filling the water with tiny red Lego pieces. He woke up gasping and flailing at least once a week.
In an attempt to change his association, Pavan bought him sea creature books and took him to the aquarium, and over the course of a few weeks his anxiety about the ocean was driven out by facts and knowledge. “It’s the unknown that’s frightening,” she told him on a trip to the beach. “The ocean is a beautiful thing teeming with life. Close your eyes and listen,” she said. “Do you hear that?” She breathed in and out, matching the tide. “That is the sound of life.” He closed his eyes and followed her rhythm until the two of them fell in sync.
The sun is just a half slice on the horizon when Anik arrives. He drops his pack on the gravel driveway and stretches his arms wide as he looks at the house. When Rose suggested they pool their money to rent it, he balked at the expense but now, after weeks of walking and cold-ground sleeps, the prospect of a warm bed and a hot shower is a relief. He stares up at the cedar A-frame, all lit up and cozy, and watches Ash, Rose and Winona from outside. From where he’s standing, it looks like they’re dancing or playing a game and for a time he watches their grand gestures and soundless clapping, the familial way in which they move around each other. He shakes his head, in his soft wizened way, acknowledging his own arrival. “I’m here.”