Behind The Surge

When you woke up, the sunlight tingled your skin. Opening your eyes forced you to stare at the sun, squinting at the brilliant blue of the cloudless sky. The sun was a bright white spot, looking to finish what was left of you.

Your body felt light, almost weightless, carried about by an invisible force, moving in whatever direction it pleased. You couldn’t see it, but you knew your body had sustained more damage than you ever had in your entire lifetime. You could smell the blood in your broken nose, feel the gentle pulse of a gash across your right arm, and maybe, your leg was broken.

But you couldn’t tell. It was the adrenaline coursing through your body. The moment it was out of your system, you’d be in immense pain. But for now, all that mattered was the sun above, mercilessly giving you sunburns. The coolness of the water behind you did nothing to help; all you could do was move with the current.

Something brushed lightly against your neck, and turning, you notice the top of a coconut tree. Most of its branches were submerged, but the coconuts bobbed and floated on the water. A smile escaped your lips at the insanity of it all. Looking further down, you spot a few more branches poking out of the water, a telephone line here and there.

Craning your head, you realize that the water seems to have picked up speed, and looking behind, you notice the rooftops in the distance, with waters raging around them, tearing off sections, breaking through glass. They were two-story buildings, and the water cut through them like Lego — you were rushing right at them.

It wasn’t hard to figure out that at the speed the water was ripping through the building, it would smash your beaten body to shreds, and there wasn’t a thing you could do about it. The orange of the life jacket you’d put on reached your eyes — you’d thought it would save your life back then.

In a way, it had, but it had only kept you alive long enough to die at the hands of the murky, unforgiving waters. It was strange to believe that the waters had once been a brilliant blue color. Now, mixed with debris and silt, it was the color of dung; the salt stung your eyes, and the water didn’t care.

In the times you’d gone white water rafting, you knew how hard it was to fight the tide of a small river. Even at full strength, it was a monumental task. But this was no river, and even if your body hadn’t been bashed, there was no fighting it.

Your eyes locked with the corner of the house where all the other debris pieces floated. They would slam against it, splintering to pieces, before floating further down. There was no doubt that it would kill you, but yet there was something placid about knowing. Seeing death and knowing it was the end.

You don’t fight it — there isn’t a morsel of energy left in you — your mind drifts, just like the water you float on, thinking about the life you lived. You had a few regrets, but nothing that would disturb your eternity of darkness. You considered saying a prayer; if there were a God, he’d probably given you a few moments to connect with him.

You shut your eyes as the sound of the chaos at the building reached your ears. A moment later, your body is whipped forward violently, straight at the building. Your arm and ribs slam hard, and you feel the breath get knocked out of you. Your body is forced underwater again, while the current tries to force you away from the side of the building.

The water forced your body to bend over, your legs on one corner and your torso on the other. Forced underwater, you realize that the current bringing things to the corner of the building had trapped you there, sentencing you to death by drowning. You don’t fight it; you open your eyes for a moment and look around in the dark, murky water.

So this is the end?

She had been on her feet one moment, and the next, she was falling. It felt like a fever dream, only it was too real. The wave had carried her out to sea, separating her from the rest of the travel group. Looking up, she caught the sight of a wave that had carried her.

It dropped her, and she fell straight down into the water. She hit the sea floor a moment later, feeling something hard slam into her shoulder. She let out a cry, but the water quickly filled her mouth. She pushed to her feet, coughing and sputtering as she looked around, trying to understand where she was.

Staring out, she could see the sea had receded, moving much further out than it normally would have, even with the tides. An unsettling feeling filled her gut as she stared, wondering if the waves would return. Turning back to the beach, she realized just how far out she was. At least two hundred meters from the nearest building, with water rushing back towards the sea from the roads and nearby buildings.

She began to speak, calling out for help, but her voice broke. Wading through the knee-high water, she made her way to the beach. If she could reach the hospital, she could get her shoulder checked out. But as she walked, a sound reached her ears.

It sounded like a jetliner flying overhead at first. She looked up to see if there was a plane, but there was nothing in the cloudless sky. As her gaze reached the beach, she noticed a few people waving at her chaotically, yelling something at her.

But the sounds didn’t reach, defeaned by the thunderous and ever-growing crashing sound she now realized, was coming from behind her. Turning, she spotted a massive wave, taller than the houses on the beach, rushing right at her.

She willed her legs to move, begging her mind to free itself up as she was frozen to the spot. The wave was as wide as the beach, coming straight at her. There was no escaping it, no way to get out of its path. She took a deep breath and waited, thinking it would drop on her, but instead, the water picked her up by her feet, and drew her into the wave.

Her body spun rapidly, her leg drawn to the right with such an immense force, she felt it snap. She let out a cry, releasing the breath she had held. A moment later, she hit what felt like an invisible wall, her body forced against it as the wave pounded on her back.

The wall shattered, cutting her across her face and body, as she realized she had been sent through a window, and was in a small house. The water blew out the entire back area of the house, sending her flying with it. The water had turned murky, and as she pushed herself up, looking to take a breath, something slammed into her face.

The pain sent her ringing, threatening to make her unconscious. She took a breath but winced, smelling blood. She spotted a broken door and grabbed onto it, watching as blood dripped from her nose to the white wood. She tried pulling her body on top of the door, but her weight caused it to topple over, sending her into the water again.

As she fell in, something shot up the side of her arm, slicing deep. She quickly pulled herself to the surface again, using one arm to swim until she could breathe. As her head popped out of the water, she spotted a lifejacket and instantly grabbed it.

She tried pulling it over her body, as her fingers had gone numb. She worked feverishly, feeling the raging waters pulling her in every direction. Finally getting the velcro to strap on, she felt herself begin to float. Her heart sank for a moment as she stared at the roof of the hut where she had sat, just minutes ago, where all of her friends had sat.

“We give thanks to the water, the bringer of life,” Sandra said, stretching her body in the downward dog position.

I stood behind her, following suit. As much as I hated this, I had become part of the group. Acting up and calling them out of their fake high society behavior would only ruin the trip for everybody. I knew most of them, each struggling with one thing or the other.

But the moment we arrived on Enoshima island, everyone suddenly became glamorous, as though putting on a show for the Japanese locals. But what had hurt me the most was Sandra. Before we set out, Sandra and I had a little quarrel, as she didn’t take too well to me addressing her behavior in front of my boyfriend, Ben.

But with that, Sandra had gone ahead to spread rumors about me, telling my friends that I’d cheated on Ben, and the entire purpose of my coming on the trip was to find someone I could cheat with. A small part of me didn’t care, knowing that Ben knew the truth.

However, another part of me wanted to rip her apart. So when she had woken us by seven a.m. to start the day with some light yoga, I wondered if the locals had a chainsaw I could borrow. We finished up, and began making our way down to the water. The small island was just as picturesque as it’d been in the posters.

The brilliant blue waters stretched into the distance, as far as the eyes could see. A mix of rustic wooden shacks curved around the lip of the beach, and a few two-story buildings painted in pastel hues stayed further back, serving as our lodgings.

A few family-owned seafood restaurants, souvenir stalls popped up here and there, and even a traditional ryokan inn, complete with sliding shoji doors and a tiled roof. I smiled, wondering if I’d see a geisha or two as the decorative lanterns hung up and swayed wildly in the sea breeze.

The murmurs from the group drew my attention, and I turned to see that the sea had pulled back.

“It wasn’t this way yesterday,” Sandra pouted, looking around for a local.

I shook my head, wondering what she would ask of them. As though any one individual was responsible for the tides. I looked further down, noticing a small wave in the distance. I had no idea what the low tides were like in the area, but something about it seemed off.

“Konichiwa,” Sandra called out, “Hello, Konichiwa. You speak English?”

I turned to see the man she spoke to, a trader pushing a cart. He hadn’t paid any attention to Sandra, his eyes set on the water in the distance, wide with fear. I turned back to see that the small wave I had seen a few moments ago, was now at the beach.

The water slammed into the sand and rocks, instantly flowing over and hitting us at the waist. I dug my heels in, stunned by how powerful it was. It surged momentarily, before it pulled back, returning to the sea. A few nervous laughs from the group calmed me. Maybe it was storming, I heard someone say.

“Takadai ni itte kudasai,” the trader began, his voice breaking as he spoke, moving backward. He turned to me, his hands shaking as he spoke. “Ima sugu ikou, hayaku!”

“I don’t understand,” Sandra said, “Can I get someone who speaks English please? Ugh, Hey, can you go check the reception? The old woman there, she…”

The sound of the waves suddenly drowned out Sandra’s words, and a few screams pierced the air. As I turned, I noted the shadow that came with the water. The wave was at least ten feet tall, and had blocked out the sun temporarily.

I turned to run, but the water hit first, throwing me first face into the floor. It quickly sucked me up, and I realized it was pulling me out to sea. I tried to grab hold of something, anything my hands could reach, and I found purchase on a small rock.

The water pulled back, and I turned to see the local beside me, his face dripping with water. He quickly got to his feet and rushed over, helping me up. He began dragging me up the beach, towards the house. But I froze as I spotted Sandra, eyes wide open, limbs splayed in awkward directions.

The waves had thrown her on a rock, caving in the back of her head. Blood dripped off the rock as the water around her knees moved back to the sea. The man pulled me, trying to get me to move. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but as the next wave hit again, it made sense.

“Again, again.”

He had warned that the water would come again. This time, it threw me up the beach, headfirst into a wooden shack.

“Did you black out?”

“Yeah, I did. I had no idea how long I was underwater, but the water had pinned Daichi and I to a spot. I remember seeing things, like for a minute, I think I saw a gorilla in the water, then my mother, who’d been dead for years. Doctor said it was most likely hallucinations from oxygen deprivation.”

“So, how did you get out?”

“Honestly, it’s all a blur. I lost Daichi at some point, and I thought I was out at sea, but the Tsunami had submerged most of the island, and I thought everyone else was dead, cause I couldn’t see the floor, and I couldn’t hear anyone. But Daichi had somehow found a roof, and using the end of a mopstick, he’d pulled me up on the roof as well.

We were up there for, I guess, till evening, before helicopter rescue took us to the mainland.”

“I’m sure you were glad the worst was over.”

“Oh no. There was still Fukushima.”