Cradle is the Waves

After the albatross crashed into the boat, Julia fell into the river with a soft plip, having lost so much weight in memories. Above her, the sky was aglow with a hundred million golden stars, strands of which reached down to net a walking path below her feet. She giggled, breathless. A comforting canopy of sailboat bottoms passed shadows onto the riverbed. To her, it was like a covered boardwalk.

Oh, how I’ve missed the world, she thought and began to walk. The golden strands continued to etch a path with each step, serving to light the dark water at the same time. Eventually, the riverbed became more akin to an ocean floor, lit by so many souls it was as if the sun itself was shining down. But Julia knew she was too deep for that to be true.

She saw too many faces to recognize anyone. Men, women, children, animals. The animals were her favorite. Puppies and rabbits played in the swaying grasses, ducklings swam like they were in heaven. After a moment, she realized she’d been searching for someone.

“Albatross,” she spoke into the water. It moved past her bottom lip like a whispered kiss. “He said he’d stay with me.”

But he wasn’t near.

She swam off the path toward a little white puffin baby and tapped it on the back.

“Do you know where I might find Albatross?” she asked when it turned to look at her.

“No, Elder,” said the puffin. “He’s only one bird in an infinite ocean.”

“Yes, but he brought me here. He said he’d stay with me.”

The puffin smiled, soft. “I can’t speak to that.”

Julia hadn’t been a reader in life, unlike her husband. Her daughters say that contributed to her mind’s demise. Then she’d gone sailing and now she was here. It was as if all the waves in the mortal plane had come to sweep her into a new cradle. She swayed with the current of deep water, and sighed, bubbles glinting in the souls’ glow like fairy lights, and disappearing with true glitter.

A white shape floated down some distance away. She watched as it dove, deeper and deeper with an assuredness that rivaled her late husband whenever he walked, drove, or hugged his granddaughters.

And then, all of a sudden, she could hear his voice in her head: I’ll stay with you.

Albatross swept over the joyously cluttered floor like a father who was still in love with his wife. He stopped in front of Julia and eyed her sweetly.

“There you are,” he said. “Ready?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She grinned.

“Me neither.” He smirked, eyes glinting. “Hop on.”

When she grabbed hold of his great neck, she felt as though the cradle had become a tricycle. Not long and it would be a bike, then her first car, and finally, a boat with no holes in the bottom.

And there never will be, she realized.

A/N: This is based on/is a loose continuation of my story Watercolor, which I wrote about my grandma's illness and death.

I based this story on the quote from Dumbledore: "To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." (And do you Muggles understand the connection?? ;D)

Though Julia did not die with a well-organized mind, and it could be argued that she never had one before her diagnosis, her afterlife has fixed such a problem. I hope the whimsy of a "next great adventure" comes through in this little microfiction.

This is for L.C. Shäefer's Dollar Challenge for September, where we were tasked with writing a microfiction story inspired by a quote from the Harry Potter book series. I'm cutting it a bit close to the deadline, but there is a bit of time left, just under 12 hours at the time of posting this...