IN HIS DREAM, THE BOY was suspended, floating in a sky of black. But there were no stars. No moon. Just the darkness, which pulled at him from every direction. Thick blackness that oozed over the boy.
Around him.
Beneath him.
Down his throat.
He woke and coughed, a mouthful of goop gushing onto his chest. Ewww! He tried to open his eyes, but they were covered by the grainy sludge too. Swiping at the goopy sand on his face, he cracked his eyes open.
Darkness hung around him. It was still night. But something was different. Something wasn’t right. The boy’s beating heart told him so.
Cold grasped at his feet. Bony wet fingers creeping up the sand under a giant cloak.
The sea had risen. The monster was trying to take him. To smother him!
“Get back!” he shouted to the sea. To himself. “Get back!”
Wind picked up as he scrambled to his feet, globs of wet sand plopping off him. Something heavy slid off his legs and he caught it quickly. The blanket. He held it close. It had hidden him from the monsters on the land, but nothing could hide from the monster in the sea.
His pulse quickened and the air trembled as the boy scooted to drier sand, back, back until the high tide couldn’t reach him. Then he crouched small and pulled the blanket on top of him again.
“Once upon a time, there was a boy who was out of reach,” he whispered, glaring at the ocean.
After a few breaths, the water calmed, a soft black comforter, quilted with small, delicate curves. Swaying gently like it hadn’t tried to grab him—but the boy knew better.
If his knight had come, he’d have protected the boy, so small against the giant sea. But the boy was still alone.
“Are you there?” he whispered. Even hearing the bully in his head would be better than being alone in the dark.
But it didn’t answer.
A line of shimmering white lay over the water, pointing to where the moon hung low in the sky, big and round, but not quite full, like a cake covered in white frosting with one side sliced off. And above, the stars winked at him. He gave them a small smile. Perhaps they were protecting him. Perhaps they had sent away the wind and put the slimy old monster back to sleep in the sea.
Could they bring back the sun?
The boy sighed, wishing he were still asleep. But when he closed his eyes, the blackness of his dream rushed back to him. Staying awake was better.
He listened for danger, but all he heard was the shush-shush of the tide grasping for higher land, then receding. He tucked his chin against his chest and pulled his knees in tighter. If he was small, maybe nothing would see him, nothing would harm him. It was dark, after all.
Until the light appeared.
It came from his left. At first he thought it was a reflection from the moon—
But it was too bright. It couldn’t be the sunrise, either. The sun lit up the whole sky, but this was a single ray, like a beam from an enormous flashlight.
It shone from the northeast. Yes, the boy knew that! The sun went from the east to the west, so this light was from the northeast.
For a few seconds, the light shone on the beach, the trees, and the boy. He squinted against the brightness, which carved a path through the dark. Then it was gone. Everything went black and gray again, with only the moonlight illuminating the shoreline and trees the boy was cradled between.
He sat up and searched for the light. Where had it gone? Would it come back?
Please come back, he thought.
“Did you see?” he whispered, but the bully didn’t reply.
The boy waited—still small, still invisible. His breath skipped across his lips. He closed his eyes and crossed all his fingers. Please. Please. PLEASE!
And it came again.
When the boy saw the ray, he forgot all about the dark, the monsters, the invading sea. He jumped up and grinned.
It was a broad swath of light—yellowish white, like it was old and warm. The light swung to the north and lifted the boy’s heart as it went.
Then it was gone. He was alone once more.
“Where are you? Where did you come from?” he called to the empty sky.
But there was no response. He waited, waited, but this time the light did not return.
He dropped back onto the ground, pulling his head into his shoulders. Silence and darkness swallowed him.