The Current | A Short Story

The Current

By Iris Tanis

          It’s quiet, finally; there’s nothing out here besides me, the water, and the stars. 

         The stars glow fiercely, as if making up for when the storms block them out of our sight. I can see fog ahead, and what is beyond that… I don’t know.

         I remember before I set out on this journey; I’d seen many others leave, while others scoffed at them. I remember when I felt that pull and saw the light shining… and that calling for me to come. As soon as I had decided I was going to follow no matter what, I had an aching to go forward and leave the shore, and now as I look back, the darkness that I before had been blind to makes me glad I have, but at the same time…

         I had to go through storm after storm after storm to get…  here. The calm clear little respite with nothing but water and fog ahead.

         I push hard with my paddle and the boat goes forward a little. It’s tiring just to think of trying to go through this calm with nothing but my own paddle. At least with the storm there was something moving me.

         I wonder at the fog ahead of me and the storm is still behind me.

         Is there no rest?

         It feels like I just got to the calm.

         I look up, as I slowly move myself forward and I wonder why I’ve been allowed to go through these storms by myself, trying to move myself out of the storm.

         I’ve been so lonely; I’ve been tossed and battered, and going on a course that sometimes almost vanishes beneath the crashing waves or behind the blinding, miserable fog, and guided only by a current that doesn’t seem to do anything half the time.

         Then I see something moving under its glassy surface. It moves about my silver boat, making it glow and swirl. I kneel down, letting go of my long paddle, and peer over the edge as I slowly move along. The glow is still there, it seems like a path. I look back, and suddenly my view seems to expand; I see not only the last storm, but all of them.

         The glowing current seems to go to each and finally back to the shore where it lights up the entire shore as far as I can see. My eyes widen and I trace the current back toward me, and find that it goes under my boat and ahead into the growing fog.

         What was it?

         It seems to have been with me all this time and I’ve never noticed it before.

         I look ahead, and can’t see the glow past the fog, but the light stays. I put my hand in the water where it is glowing, and feel a current.

         I look back again, and see the light is still there, and far, far away are more people getting in their boats.

         I look to my left and right, and see more storms and other people struggling in their own journey, and the glow is under their boats too. Some of the people aren’t even trying to paddle; they cling to their boat and I notice that the glow is brighter.

         For those trying so hard to get out by themselves, the glow is dimmer.

         I feel ashamed for thinking I was ever left alone in my journey.

         I smile and then pick up my paddle, but this time, instead of looking at the horizon, I look just a little ahead of me. I still have to paddle, I realize, but I need to follow the path that has been set for me.

         I need to follow the current.

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Story Inspired by: Man Rowing a Boat in the Sea under Beautiful Sky with Stars, Illustration Painting by Tithi Luadthong