Page 65 of Beacon

With these words, this particular memory faded, and the scene transitioned into another one: me nestled in Mother’s lap as I talked, stories that she attentively listened to with a look of complete contentment, not seeming the least bit impatient by my words, all while she held me close in her loving embrace.

Though deep down I’d always known it, the memory was a powerful reminder that Mother had loved me deeply. Despite that knowledge over the years, I’d allowed my pain and the length of her absence to cause me to forget. Eventually, guilt, as well as her last painful words, had twisted my memories, distorting them until I could no longer see them clearly.

This vision slowly faded, and the ocean soon showed me another image, this one also of Mother as she comforted me following a mistake I’d made. Her touch was gentle as she wrapped a tender arm around my quivering shoulders. “It’s alright, sweetheart.” She gently dried my tears. “Everyone makes mistakes. But no matter what, nothing will ever cause me to love you any less.”

Her words lingered as the water around me shifted into yet another memory, this one of the tragic day the ocean had stolen my mother from me. However, rather than watching this memory from my perspective as it’d always done, this time it was from Mother’s.

She stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up towards where I stubbornly sat at the top refusing to go down to say goodbye. Father came up behind her. “The ship leaves soon.”

“I know, it’s just that…” She bit her lip and glanced back up towards the beacon. “I want to talk to Marisa. In my stress of getting ready, I was impatient with her and said something I didn’t mean. I don’t want to leave with that unresolved.”

“You’ll have a chance to talk with her when you return,” Father said.

She continued to hesitate but not for long considering the hour was growing later, eventually forcing her to depart with no way of knowing that our final opportunity to talk had slipped away forever.

As this vision faded, the enchanted colors caressing the water melted back into the blue sea and frothy white waves, but even after they vanished, I continued to stare as all that the ocean had shown me attacked the walls erected around my heart.

Save for the last vision, all the others had always been a part of me…yet over the years I’d chosen to forget them, instead focusing on the single moment Mother had snapped at me rather than the countless others that had testified of her love, both for me and my words.

In my grief I’d allowed that single moment to not only shape me but rob me of my voice. For the first time since my self-imposed silence, a truth penetrated my heart that I’d never allowed myself to consider: Mother would be sad to learn I’d chosen to stop talking.

As if these revelations acted as their own beacon, my gaze was drawn towards the ocean, where I noticed something glisten in the water below. Whatever waited at the bottom was meant for me, for the ocean had undoubtedly provided a magical crystal to bring me to this particular location for a reason.

Curiosity allowed me to push past my usual reservations at the thought of entering the ocean in order to dive in. The cold, salty water pressed against me as I swam deeper. I could faintly see an indistinguishable dark mass at the bottom of the ocean floor. I squinted, trying to discern what it was…but it wasn’t until I’d swum closer that I realized with horror where the ocean had led me.

I nearly choked on a mouthful of seawater as I startled. I immediately kicked towards the surface, gasping for breath the moment I emerged; if I’d had my voice, I would have screamed. For lying below me was a wrecked ship, one I didn’t need the ocean’s confirmation for to know it belonged to Mother.

The ocean had brought me to the very place she’d died.

It took a long time to steady my wildly pounding heart in order for me to summon enough courage to peek beneath where I treaded water. Some of the shock for the ocean’s selected destination had faded, allowing me to consider the situation with a much clearer mind.

Upon considering it, I wasn’t surprised to discover where the lighthouse had brought me—the magic that allowed one to see even the most faded memories needed the touch of the memory bearer in order to work, which meant that only by being at Mother’s final resting place would have allowed me to see all the visions that had just unfolded around me.

Which meant they’d come from Mother herself, undoubtedly carefully selected from her departed spirit as a means to heal my broken heart, one final gesture of love for her grieving daughter. With this knowledge, some of the anxiety tightening my chest began to ease, allowing for some semblance of peace.

I’d never expected to feel that emotion in such a place, but I welcomed the warmth encircling me, such a contrast to the chilly water I treaded in. With this comforting embrace came the assurance that despite the tragedy that had taken her far too soon, Mother was alright, a knowledge that would help me finally move forward.

This change within me gave me the courage to dive back beneath the water. As I swam closer to the wrecked ship, I noticed a light glistening beneath the depths, one that seemed to come from the ship itself. I hesitated, too afraid to venture that close to the wreckage just to investigate. Only the peace enfolding me gave me the strength to continue.

The wreckage marring the ocean floor was quite a ways down. I kept my focus on the glistening light in order to avoid looking at Mother’s destroyed ship, unable to bear the sight of the splintered wood and carnage…but the wreckage loomed over me the closer I swam; I was only protected from the sharp pain brought by such a ghastly sight by the peaceful shield encircling my heart in a protective cocoon.

The golden light that had guided me down here lay nestled amid the ship’s broken planks, forcing me to shift several in order to extract it. The light was warm and tingled in my hands as I held it close and swam back towards the surface. I broke through with a gasp and clambered back onto the misty shore in order to examine my recovered treasure.

Away from the shadowy ocean depths, I could see the light was contained in a translucent, water-shaped box that I quickly recognized as the same one from the vision the cavern pool had shown me—the box that contained the voice I’d locked away and had given to the ocean for safekeeping.

It unlocked with a single touch to the lock, as if the box recognized me. I opened it with shaking hands to find the golden glowing bulb of my voice nestled there, just as I’d left it. At first I could only stare, fixated on my lost voice after all this time…before I hastily snapped the lid shut.

For a long moment I sat completely still as my heart pounded furiously. With each painful beat, my familiar fear returned, tempting me to drop my recovered voice back into the ocean. Only the desires from these past several weeks were strong enough for me to resist, providing me with the courage I needed to inch the lid back open to peek at my voice once more.

If the ocean had given me back my voice any sooner, I might not have had the strength to accept it, but the visions it’d recently shown me had changed everything. Not only had they provided me with much-needed clarity but they had reminded me that no matter my heartache over what had transpired, I shouldn’t keep my voice locked away forever; Mother wouldn’t want such a thing.

I’d been able to retrieve my voice after all these years because the ocean sensed the growing desires I’d been too afraid to acknowledge, our connection too deep for me to hide the truth: I wanted to eventually speak again. Even if that day wasn’t today, with my voice returned, I’d be able to use it when my want to speak was finally stronger than the fear that had robbed me of it in the first place.

But that day wasn’t today.

I locked my voice back away, but rather than tossing it back into the sea, I held it in my lap. After I’d returned to my island, for a long time I kept it cradled close as I sat on the shore long after night had settled, allowing my voice’s proximity to stoke the desires I’d finally acknowledged, all while the visions the ocean had shown me lingered in my thoughts.

CHAPTER23

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