Gone Away

A single man rested in his boat as it lazily floated out to sea. Before him, the fading sunset, the ocean and beautiful perpetuity. Behind him, his past, his problems, and all his responsibilities. But he was between the two now, neither here nor there. He had left this plane of existence for a few hours, and was no longer controlled by this time, no longer a part of this universe; he had gone away. He had gone fishing.


His name was Mitch, and he didn’t have a care in the world. He sat back, his head resting against the front of the boat, lying on an old pillow he had rescued from a dumpster years back. He looked up at the puffy white clouds, ignoring his fishing pole, which listlessly swayed back and forth against the sky overhead. Their voices repeated in his mind, their fights, their arguments, their compromises. He thought back to his messed up family, to his dead end job, to his idiot boss, he thought back to everything he had done in his life. But then he stopped as his face cringed; he didn’t want to think about the stressful things. He went fishing to relax, not to think about what made him need to relax in the first place.

“Hello, daddy.” His daughter’s voice played over again in his head.
He thought back to the last time he had seen her. His wife took her in the divorce, so he rarely had any time with her. He closed his eyes and he saw her shining face. A smile reached across his face as he remembered the last time he got to take her out spoil her.

“Come here, Rachel, look at the tigers.”
“I don’t want to, they’re scary!”
“Oh, you don’t have to be scared. I’ll protect you.”

Rachel looked up at her father who must have seemed invincible then. She looked up at him, at his loving, confidant eyes, at his concerned look, at his smile directed toward her.

“Ok! Let’s look at the tiger!” she cried, forgetting every care in the world.
Mitch picked up his little daughter, holding her tightly in his arms while she looked at the motionless tigers behind the glass wall. She held an ice cream cone between her tiny hands, and would take her fascinated eyes off the big striped cats only to look at the ice cream before she put it to her mouth.

“Now what do you want to do?” Mitch asked.
“Uh…I want to see the elephants!"
“Ok, let’s go find them.”
“But you can’t get too close or they’ll pick you up and fly away,” Rachel cried, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
“Are you sure?"
“Uh huh, it’s true, someone told me so."
“Ok.”
Mitch set down his little girl and as he did so, she lost her balance and he was too slow to react.

With traumatized eyes, glossy and wide- Mitch watched his daughter crying on the ground, mourning over her ice cream which had fallen. He stood in absolute horror, replaying what had just happened in his mind. The ice cream falling to the ground played back and forth behind his eyes. The spinning, spiraling, twisting dairy product fell slowly, so slowly, and he could only watch. He could only watch the sprinkles separating from the vanilla ice cream, he could only watch as it continued on its plummet toward the hot pavement, slowly, so slowly. He could only watch as the ice cream struck the ground, splattering his daughter’s favorite treat across her shoes. And as he watched his daughter crying, he realized he had failed. He wanted to protect his little girl from everything, from every form of sadness, from every pain there was, and he had failed. That falling ice cream was every bad thing that would ever happen to his daughter, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

Suddenly Mitch awoke from his little daydream and realized he was still in his boat, still staring up at the clouds as they lazily moved across the sky. He moved around, changing positions, and turned his head from the heavens to the ocean that lay before him. It was a beautiful dark blue, and the half hidden sun created an orange glow, which reflected off the surface of the ocean. It made it look as if the distant waters just on the horizon were set ablaze. That’s where his peace was, just on that fiery horizon. It was always a little beyond his sight, just over the next hill, just around the next bend in the road, always a little past his reach. He would have it someday though, he would have his peace, his happiness, he would be whole, but not this day. Today he was taking a break from the world; today, he was out fishing.

His feet banged against the rotting wood of his boat as he changed positions again. It made an odd, hollow sound as he did so. The boat had once been made of strong wood; but that was twenty years ago, and now it was a dilapidated memory of the great sea faring vessel it once was. But it was now his boat more than ever. He and his boat had formed a bond over the years, and now the old and beaten boat seemed to be an extension of his very soul. He had grown old with this boat by his side and it hadn’t failed him yet.

A quick and short-lived beam of happiness appeared on his face as one of the bright red clouds covering the setting sun struck a chord, and a memory arose in his mind. He thought back to when he was younger, to when the world was like a book, waiting for him to open it and pluck out whatever he wanted. He worked for a construction company then, and just like every Friday, he arrived first. It was when he picked up a large hammer and was about to get to work, that he heard what would be the most important words to ever grace his ears.

“Help me, somebody help me please!” A woman’s voice frantically called out.
He looked around, trying to find the woman in distress. The voice was filled with such terror. It was taken straight from a horror movie, and all those childhood fears of ghosts and aliens and axe murderers swelled within his gut, but he suppressed them as he looked around for her. Left, right, nothing. No one. The scream came again, filling the cold morning air when finally he decided to look up.

And there, atop several tons of flagstone pavers, he saw her, a beautiful woman bathed in the warm glow of the rising sun. She was surrounded by an angelic aura of bright gold, and it was then and there that Mitch knew he was in love. He sprinted to the large pile of pavers and without a second thought, scaled it, determined to rescue this woman who he felt such strong emotion for. He gripped the hammer tightly as he swore upon his own life that he would kill whoever made her scream, who ever would dare fill her with such horror.

With breathless lungs and murder in his eyes, Mitch reached the top of the mound. From that point, he overlooked the entire construction site, and there, at the base of the mound was her assailant.

“Oh God, help me,” she screamed as she wrapped her arms Mitch and buried her face within his chest.
He felt his knees buckle but forced himself to focus. He looked down to the base of the mound, where the source of her fear lurked. It was a tiny dog that entertained itself by barking at the beautiful woman with an annoying, high-pitched yelp. Mitch tossed the hammer to the base of the mound, then smiled as the dog scurried away.

“Thank you,” she cried, hugging her savior tighter.
“Uh…” Mitch stuttered, somewhat confused.
“I’m sorry,” she began to calm down and released her grip of him. “I have a thing with dogs…they kind of freak me out.”

Mitch looked at her, jaw dropping as he realized she was more beautiful than he had previously thought. He noticed the sun reflected off her china blue eyes, giving them a delicate glow all their own. And the light played off her hair in such a way that it illuminated the long, golden strands, giving them an angelic air that God wished were His own. He studied her, baffled by how stunning she was, when suddenly he realized he was staring and looked down at his shoes.

“Are you ok now?” he asked softly, hoping she hadn’t noticed his rude stare.
“Yes, I’m sorry I made such a scene.”
“Oh, it’s alright,” he smiled gently. “It’s a nice break from the daily routine. Besides, there’s really no one to make a scene for, just me.”
“Well, thank you for not making a big fuss about it.”
“It’s no problem, I’m glad I could help.”
“You’re very kind, you know that.”
“Thank you,” he said, hoping he wasn't blushing.
“Now, do you think you could help me down from here? I ran up here so fast I don’t really know how to get down.”

Mitch looked around him, at the large pile of pavers beneath him. He had climbed up in such a frenzy that he forgot the way down as well. He studied the ground, looking for a path. Unable to find it, he simply guessed. She anxiously held onto his hand as he stepped down, seeing if it was sturdy. Suddenly it slipped- the paver he was attempting to use slid off the pile and tumbled down. He quickly jumped back, and watched the paver fall to the ground thirty feet below him.

“Actually...” Mitch looked to the bright-eyed woman, “I don’t know the way down either.”
“So we’re stuck up here?” she asked.
“Well, only until the rest of the crew arrives.”

They both surveyed the lifeless construction site.

“Ok,” optimism filled her voice. “So we just wait for the workers to arrive. There is a morning shift, right?”
“Well yes…” Mitch began.
“Good.”
“Except…I am the morning shift. The next shift won’t arrive until 11:00.”
“Well,” the woman smiled through frustration. “Better late than never.”

Mitch and the woman he knew he would marry sat down on the top of the mound, letting the new day’s sun wash over them. It warmed them, lit their faces, lowered their barriers. They sat, talking and laughing for hours until when the next shift arrived, neither of them wanted to leave.

Mitch slowly left his memory and awoke to his reality. He watched and in a sad way smiled as the last bit of sunlight faded into the horizon. He looked back to his fishing pole. The brave fisherman hadn’t caught a thing; he had wasted the entire day with nothing to show for it, and to top it off he probably caught a cold from the sea breeze, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He sailed off in his little boat, no destination in mind, existing somewhere between here and forever. He was not sad that day, not depressed or concerned with the twists and turns of his daily life, he was simply out fishing.