Modern Flash Fiction

“Let’s jump!” Ray cried, his little face full of joy. The creases of anticipation took over his features as his frame leapt fearlessly from the boat.

“Go ahead honey!” his mother urged, knowing she wouldn’t be joining in the day’s activities.

The slow barge the family rented for the day had made its way down the river and was stationed at a clearing. They were alone except for the squawking inhabitants in the trees hollering up and down the plains.

Kate’s little feet brushed over the boat’s lip as she dared to peek at her soon to be destination. Her head raced with wild creatures that hungrily waited beneath the murky surface. Ones that saw her brother and decided to wait for a better offering.

“Hey Kate honey, I could use some help over here with the grill!” her father swept in as he often did. She could feel her mother’s eyes rolling, wine in hand, smiling out at Ray. Kate withdrew her attempt at bravery and pattered over the dry teak in bare feet to stand at her father’s side, safe at last.

“Oh, Ray don’t swim too far!” their mother called out as she poured wine to the brim of the plastic glass she clutched. Kate’s father ruffled her hair.  No words were needed. Kate liked it this way.

• • •

Ray’s little legs kicked ferociously under the dappled surface, cold rising from the his toes to his ankles. When the cold hit his thighs, he whipped his head around in an attempt to lay eyes on his father or mother. Safety had drifted away, and in the sunlight his picturesque family seemed perfect without him. His waist was engulfed in the winding icy depths, and he was succumbing to the cold.

Ray was a new swimmer. His school swim teacher Mr. Lane would have been so proud of him. He took pleasure in holding his arms up straight over his head as he jumped. His knees bent just like he was taught in the incubus of the snug educational pool. There he was a hero; here he wasn’t so sure.

Even with three years on Ray, Kate always felt unease in the water, and sought to avoid its clutches at all costs. Mr. Lane tirelessly encouraged her with stories of her younger brother’s bravery. Kate knew she would never take to swimming, not now, not in twenty years on a yacht. It was enough her heart raced in the bathtub. The same feeling spoke to her today. ‘Stay on the boat Kate, stay on the boat’. Behind her, her mother stumbled trying to find the second bottle of chilled wine, “Just what we needed” her mother drawled, and her father’s hand tightened on Kate’s shoulder.

Ray’s legs began to tire, his learned tactics weren’t an assurance of survival. Overhead clouds gathered and threatened to ruin their family day out. Having used all his energy to tread water hoping somebody would notice him, Ray called out. His weak attempt at securing help didn’t fill him with hope but dread. His lower body now claimed by the previously tempting river, regret wasn’t an emotion at age 8 he was familiar with, but he sure missed his mother and his legs. He could see the sun all the way through if he focused on it and he felt warm like this.

He closed his eyes, just for a second, just for a dream. For a glinted second, he was wrapped in a towel. Today he would stay here, river boy, the boy who drowned, never again would he just be Ray.

Kate felt the day change, her skin prickled with the slight wind, and she hoped the weather would save them from their misery. It had rained that day too. An hour earlier and nobody would have swum, nobody would have…

Her father’s composure changed as he commandeered the wheel, “Let’s turn this boat around kid!”

Her mother screamed behind her, “But we aren’t there yet?” They came to an eerie bend in the river.

“This is our last year on the river dear,” he relayed softly. “It’s been ten years.”

To Kate her cries sounded the same, just as they did.  For a fraction of each day, it was always that day, the dappled teak, the spilled wine, the cries, the cries.

A. Polly is a new Canadian & a new writer. With two new homes she writes into and out of chaos. A devoted poet yet a curious writer of any genre. A strong conversational tone and fearless voice. Join her on a journey into madness, surrealism & one day an MFA. Publications include Rowayat Literary, a Wingless Dreamer anthology, WILDsound and more.