The
day was glorious, the sun high in the clear blue sky adding the
illusion of warmth to
these coastal waters. Light filtered down, casting shadows from the
coral and the fish swimming by onto the golden sand below. The weight
of the scuba equipment was negated by the bouyancy of the water as
he swam, it
was almost possible to forget it was there. Sam
was used to wearing the equipment now, having been on an intensive
training course, to get ready for this moment,
this hunt for lost treasure. What he was seeking was not treasure in
the traditional sense but something that was taken from him.
The
current tried
to take him towards the shore, a gentle yet insistent pressure.
Resisting this tidal pull with a kick from his flippers, he moved
lower towards the sea bed. Sam
was sure it was close, he
had many failed attempts in the past year but this time he was sure,
it
felt right. Lost in thoughts of the past Sam almost missed a
glint out
the corner of his eye. Scanning the sand below he saw it again, over
to his left, a definite sparkle. A powerful kick of his legs helped
him
close the distance. Was
this it, had he finally found it? Sam used his
hand to brush away some sand. Finally
it was his again.
It
was just like he remembered, a smooth, metallic disc with a picture
etched onto its surface. Being submerged had not affected it at all,
not one spot of rust marred its beauty. The picture was that of a
snake, curled into a spiral, an image he could draw from memory, even
though he had not seen the original for seventeen years. He scooped
it up and placed it in a bag with some unusual shells he had gathered
during his search. Excitement building, he made his way back to the
boat he had hired.
Safely
aboard, he got out of his scuba gear, towelled off. Having donned
jeans and a plain t-shirt he moved to the table and emptied the bag.
Shells cascaded across the surface whilst the disk just hit with a
solid thump, it landed with the image face up, but he remembered it
always had. Seeing it here on the table, so close, took him back to
the last time he saw it. He had been twelve years old, his parents
had kept it in a safe, on board their yacht, a safe that
Sam
had
known
the code to. He had discovered the disc
a few months earlier and felt strangely drawn to it. There was
something about the spiral that spoke
to
him, Sam
had
felt
like it belonged with
him.
He
used to take it out to look at when he could, but he never had it for
long, always he had been worried about being caught.
Seventeen
years ago Sam
had been holding the disc
when his mother had walked into the room, he was so focused on it, so
close to a
discovery,
every second bringing him closer to understanding, that he never
heard her panicked yell for his father. The disk had been ripped from
his grasp, his vision swam and all he could see was hazy dots making
everything seem spotty. He had staggered after his father, crying out
for the disk, desperately trying to explain how close he was to
understanding, but unable to form the words in his disorientated
state. Finally catching up with his father in time to watch
him hurl the disk into the sea. There was no splash, it just entered
the waves and sank beneath the surface. His father had reached out
and cradled his face, looking him in the eyes, asking over and over
if he was okay. The shock of seeing how worried and pale his father
was, finally cleared the cloud of confusion that had been fogging up
his mind. After that day the disc
was never mentioned again, if he tried to bring it up the subject was
changed, eventually he stopped asking, but never forgot.
Now,
years later he
had found it again. Looking down at the table Sam
felt a certainty,
that he was always meant to find it again, he had the strangest
feeling, if he had not found it, then it would have found him. It was
a feeling that had the hairs on his arms rise up along with
goosebumps. Sam
sat down and reached for the disc,
but nerves got the better of him and he let his hands fall to his
lap. He reached out again and stopped, finally he pulled himself
together and took hold of it. The disc
felt cold at first but started to warm quickly as his eyes followed
the spiral towards the centre, he kept following the curves round and
round, the disc
was getting hotter and still he had not reached the end.
Time
passed and he sat there lost in the spiral, the heat from the disk
becoming uncomfortable, his vision focused on the spiral and only the
spiral. The day waned into night and he did not notice the
luminescence that allowed his journey to continue, feeling close to
the end but never quite reaching his goal. The heat intensified, and
he struggled to keep hold but could not let go, then the light grew
so bright that he cried out in shock before slumping unconscious to
the floor.
Sam
awoke to the soothing sound of the ocean, lapping against the side of
the boat, but something felt wrong, the boat was not moving with the
tide any more. He stood slowly, hands rubbing at his temples, trying
to massage away the throbbing pain. Sam
looked around for the disk but there was no sign, he turned the room
upside down but there was nothing. His head was hurting and his mouth
was dry, heading to the galley he drank straight from the carton of
juice left there. All the while, he racked his brain for an
explanation of what had happened but came up short.
His
thirst quenched, the pain in his head subsiding, Sam
decided to head up to the deck and find out what was up with the
boat. Poking his head up through the hatch he quickly realised the
problem, the boat was grounded on the beach. If the grounded boat was
his only problem he would have been okay, but unfortunately he had no
idea where he had run ashore. There was nothing familiar at all, as
far as he could make out there was not any obvious signs of
habitation. There
was a hill close by and he decided to see what a higher view point
might yield.
The
climb was not overly strenuous but by the time he reached the hilltop
his head was throbbing again and he was breathing heavily. The view
was spectacular, the island Sam
was on was small and he could see all the way around from here, there
were other islands nearby and thankfully he recognised one. A giant
wave of relief washed over him and he felt the best he had all day.
He made his way back to the beach and examining the boat he could not
see any signs of damage, his day was getting better, now if only he
could get this boat afloat again.
As
he considered his options he felt a tingling sensation in the palm of
his hands, he turned them up to get a better look and was shock to
see the spiral design on each hand. Sam
traced it with his fingers and could feel the raised, slightly
inflamed flesh. The tingle grew more pronounced and then the heat
began, he ran to the waters edge and thrust his hands into the waves,
shocked at the hissing as water flash boiled. The tingling stopped,
and he pulled his hands from the surf and looked at the now clear
image on each palm.
His
hands felt fine, and running his fingers over the images there was no
evidence of anything unusual, just his normal skin. Sam could not
stop looking at the picture, it was identical on each hand and rather
than disfiguring it looked like it belonged there. This whole affair
was shaping up to be a unique and intense experience. He walked back
to the boat, his mind working overtime trying to process everything.
All he wanted to do was get aboard and grab a drink, not juice this
time. The
tide had moved further out and so he had time to kill, he climbed
aboard and made his way to the galley.
As
he
poured a Southern Comfort, he found himself wishing he was afloat
again, so he could get home and do some reasearch, he desperately
wanted some answers. As he moved
to
take a seat, a strange tingle in his palms distracted him and then he
nearly lost his balance as the boat lurched. Sam rushed up to the
deck and stopped dead in his tracks. It could not be, the boat was
afloat again and already quite a distance from the shore. Sam looked
down at his palms in wonder, could he have done this?.......
