Page 1 of Anchored to the Storm

East One

Noma, you were right

She is life. . . for me. . .

Rain falling down on me, I woke in the dark, choking, with Styx—‘Grandpa’—absentmindedly patting my chest as if seawater wasn’t spewing from my mouth.

“Easy, Maddox. You’ll breathe right again soon.” He laughed as I shoved at his old face, forcing him away from me. He is not who I wanted to see.

What happened? I was just in the water with her! Trying to get my bearings, I looked around, still coughing up water from my recent tumble into the ocean. I managed to roll onto my stomach, weakly resting on my elbows, and thinking to myself, You are fucking kidding me. What I saw made me feel trapped, repeating like in the movie Groundhog Day. Unbelievable. I was back on the wide, deep strip of land behind Dad’s clubhouse. Right where I had already been tonight, grabbing bike keys and riding away from the man I had just shoved.

Coughing and spluttering, spit and water dripping from my gasping mouth, I army crawled a few seconds to the seawall, then peered over. Lightning flashed and rumbled over the churning surface while, ten feet below, a few waves splashed against the man-made structure. There was nothing else except dark water. The moon gave just enough light to show she wasn’t there.

But she had been. I knew that now. It was all fucking real: the sparkling water, the call to the sea, the bike plunging into the ocean. And then her, there, saving me. Again. Just like she had that fateful day when I plunged into the Atlantic at age ten.

Over my right shoulder, I glared at Styx—the fucker I was tempted to kill because he was a major player in this fuckery called ‘my life’. If I weren’t close to death at the moment, I probably would have. One thing stopped me. He was the only man I knew who had any of the answers I desperately needed. The only person who could solve the mysteries in my head. And I hated him for it.

Sitting on his ass again in the rain-soaked grass, his arms resting on his bent knees, he dared a fucking shrug. “As I was saying, do you want the truth or not?”

My throat was raw from hacking up fluid, but I rasped out angrily, “Why am I not in the water with her?”

Her taking hold of my hand was a dream come true. A little boy’s dreams and fears becoming a miracle…

Flippantly, Styx rolled his eyes. “You think I’m the one at fault?”

Don’t murder Grandpa. Don’t murder Grandpa… “Then. Where. Is. She?”

A bit of his smartass demeanor faded as he stared off into the ocean. “Not sure, but I suspect she’s regenerating at the bottom.”

The heart in my chest practically exploded with worry. “Regenerating? What? Why? Is she hurt?” Not taking the breath required, I attempted a roar, “What the fuck happened?” It sounded as if a sharp-clawed demon were climbing up my vocal cords.

Styx was back to his natural self, feigning casual annoyance. “When did you become such a pain in the ass?”

“Maybe when my life became a shithole!” Of their own accord, my elbows started dragging me toward him. Grandpa is coming to an end. Now.

Laughing again, Styx held up his hands. “Okay, calm down! For real. I’ll explain.”

For real. My rage got stuck in my demon esophagus. Noma.

Noma had told me my dad used to say the same thing, like me. That’s why my tirade stopped. Now I knew where he, where we both, got the phrase from.

Styx nodded, seeming to appreciate that I was calming slightly. “Saleeni doesn’t have a vocabulary yet, so—” Noticing my expression of disbelief, half his upper lip curled. “What now?”

In an instant, my heart recovered from its angry outburst and was now melting with sentimental emotion. My voice cracked for more reasons than recently drowning. “That’s her name?”

Styx had pronounced it, Sah-lean-ee, and I had never heard a more beautiful sequence of letters.

Grandpa’s shoulders caved in a manner full of empathy. “Shit. Sorry, kid.” He wiped rain from his gray goatee. “Yeah. The name I know of.”

Absolutely enamored, I collapsed and rolled onto my back again. Deep inhale… In a dreamlike surrender, I spread my arms wide, inviting the storm above and embracing the gratitude in my heart. “Sa-leen-i.” It felt so good to have an answer. Such relief to know I hadn’t been crazy this whole time, believing in a magical childhood friend.

For so many agonizing years, through upheavals and relocations from the East Coast to the West, to California, through heart-wrenching losses, I had held on to a glimpse of hope that she was out there, remembering me as I did her. So painful. But now, somehow, it was worth it.

Thoughts of bliss faded to black as I remembered what Styx had just said. Becoming the guardian I had developed into over the years, I felt my body jolt back to my stomach. Too depleted to rise from the ground, my voice lowered. “Wait. Where the fuck is she again?”

Styx sat there, jutting out his chin in disbelief. “For real, do you have Tourette’s or something?”

For real? Tourette’s? I was back to army crawling⁠—