Page 44 of Hate Wrecked

RILEY

We spend the day on the shore. Rowan fishes, then sits on the shore with his journal. I read my mother’s book, and swim. I take a nap in the shade, and when the heat swallows me, I run to the water for relief.

The saltwater cradles me, the weight of the island’s challenges seems to dissipate, replaced by the soothing embrace of the sea. Below the surface, the underwater world unfolds in a dance of colors and gentle currents, providing a momentary escape from the uncertainties that cling to my heart.

It’s so small I almost don’t see it. Something glitters in the water. A dark shape under the surface, slowly rocking. I break for air, then dive below again, something nagging in my head to stay away.

When I break the surface again, I look to the shore. Rowan is there, fishing pole in his hands. He looks so calm, so serene. I don’t want to disturb him, but I need to know what’s below the water.

I swim swiftly to the shore, and when I reach the sand, I walk slowly, admiring him. When I’m within ten feet of him, he looks at me. His eyes, once squinting at the line on his pole, are wider when he takes me in, his gaze quickly roaming my body. “Hey,” he says.

I point back to the spot in the water. “There’s something in the water back there.”

“Shark?” he asks, half joking. The water is so clear, he would see it if there was one.

“No. Something…shiny?”

“Shiny?”

“Yeah, it’s reflecting from some black blob down below. Looks like it could be a trunk or something.”

Rowan cocks his head. “Are you asking me to stop fishing so I can help you look at possible buried treasure?

I roll my eyes. “Quit being a smart ass, and come look.”

Rowan stares back into the water, a dark look passing over his eyes. I wait patiently for him to set his pole in the sand, and remove his shirt, before following me.

I stand directly in front of my forgotten towel, grabbing Rowan’s arm to pull him close. He’s warm. I point to where I was swimming, and he walks ahead. We swim out in tandem, and being in sync with him feels good. When we reach the spot, I stare down into the water. “See it?”

He doesn’t answer; instead, he dives down. I tread water, waiting for him to resurface. When he does, he wipes his face and looks at me.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Say it is a treasure, do we get to keep it? Is it the property of the US government?”

Rowan laughs. “I don’t think it’s buried treasure. But say it was, do you need more money?”

I shrug my shoulders. “It depends on how much we’re talking.”

“It’s weird. It’s not far off the shore. It’s hard to believe that Gerald never saw this. He lived here for years and never pulled this out?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to tempt fate,” I joke.

“Is that what we’re doing?”

“You tell me,” I say before looking down. When I meet Rowan’s eyes again, he nods.

I dive down first after taking in a deep breath of air.

Rowan joins me, and we cut through the water toward the black thing.

When we reach it, I see it’s a trunk. The glittering thing isn’t in the trunk, it’s a heavy chain coming out of a hole in the side.

The trunk is slightly ajar, a chain around it loosening.

It’s rusty but there’s no algae. Inside, there is darkness, and I’m afraid to touch it.

I push off the bottom, rising to the shore.

Rowan joins me on the surface, running his hand over his wet hair.

“Okay, we go back down, and we each grab a handle. Hopefully, they hold. We’ll bring it to shore.”

I nod, taking in another gulp of air. We descend, each grabbing a handle of the trunk when we reach it. We push off in unison, cutting through the water with our free arms.

When we make it to the surface, I don’t look at the trunk. I simply stare at the shore and kick, bringing us closer.

I have a bad feeling, and I don’t want to face it.

When our feet touch the bottom, Rowan and I move toward the shore with determination. I glance at him. His furrowed brow and clenched jaw. Maybe he feels it, too.

We pull the trunk onto the shore, water leaking out the slightly ajar opening, pouring out of holes in the wood.

It’s a wretched smell. The sea and decay. Dark places and dark deeds.

I place my hands on my thighs and breathe, tired and dreading the next moments.

I stand straight, looking at Rowan, who is looking at me, frowning.