Eternal Memory

Oscar was dying on a beach. This was not as the result of an accident or illness, but as a consequence of a life well lived. At 82, his mind and body were hampered by senility and the weight of innumerable memories. He was well aware that this trip would be his last. The island was his finale that he found by searching the web for ‘world's most beautiful beaches’. Technology was not his forte, but he had managed to discover the most eastern island of the Indonesian archipelago. The crystalline waters and lush green palms in the photos had caught his eye and his resting spot matched them flawlessly. He couldn’t have been more pleased with his choice for a fitting end to his life as a rather ordinary man.

He spent much of his time lounging in the sun, listening to the rhythm of the waves. It was the off season for tourists and he was one of only a few at a resort that sat directly on the sand. After one too many drinks, the type his doctor frowned upon, he laid himself on a reclining beach chair. Placing his wicker hat on his face, he began to breathe deeply. The warm breeze and the ebb and flow of the turquoise sea calmed him and he was soon snoring under the shade of the palms. Breaking through his half asleep trance and the tempo of the water came an ethereal voice. It echoed in this mind, long and drawn out as if from a distant and otherworldly place. He sat upright and searched for the source of the haunting hymn but he could not see it. The few tourists that dotted the blonde sand beach were all behaving perfectly normal. Not a single person was searching as he was.

He sensed that it was coming from an outcrop of rocks far down the beach. Sparse palms grew from the ledge like fuzzy headed pins in a cushion. He plodded down the beach with difficulty because of bad knees and a replaced hip. The heavenly music grew louder as he approached. Climbing carefully over the mound of rocks and down the opposite side Oscar came to a small bay surrounded by peaks of stone. They extended from the water like weather-beaten gravestones having tipped to one side or another. In the middle sat a smooth boulder that bulged out of the sea and resting on top of it was a creature unlike anything Oscar had seen. It was obscured by the sun reflecting off the ripples that churned around it. The brilliant song that it created faded as Oscar stepped closer, down the rocky edge.

What came into view was a creature of much greater size than Oscar. It was plated in iridescent scales that shimmered and changed from brilliant green to purple. Its face was like that of a salamander, with frills and spines around its neck. Its tail was coiled up around its body, snakelike with webbed fins along its tremendous length. Thin arms that ended in three fingered claws rested on its tail and held its head up staring at the visitor. While this was curious enough, Oscar couldn’t look away from its eyes. They were deep, entirely black without a hint of reflection. An endless pool of ink if he ever saw one.

“Welcome child of man,” said the creature with a voice like vapor, “Come closer.”

Oscar didn’t, or couldn’t, hesitate. He climbed down the ledge and closer to the water. The creature slid itself off its stone seat and into the clear water where it resurfaced merely feet in front of him. Hundreds of teeth protruded from its wide mouth. They were long and thin, ending in points as sharp as a syringe. His legs trembled. He had seen a great many things over the course of his long life, but nothing like this.

“Do not be afraid.”

It reached out its monstrous clawed hand. Turning its palm up it gently stroked his aged face with a scaled knuckle. Starting from the tip of its nose it changed from a nightmarish creature into the most beautiful woman that Oscar, nor all mankind, had ever seen. She was angelic. Pure and gentle, though she towered over him and her eyes were still an endless cavern of black. She sank into the water and swam without effort back to her throne of stone.

She raised herself high upon the rock and with her enchanting voice said, “I am the mistress of the sea. It’s keeper and protector. I’ve been waiting for you Oscar.”

At this he stood more upright and adjusted his shirt. Despite his desperation, the wrinkles wouldn’t smooth out with his hands alone.

“How do you know my name?”

“I know a great deal about the things of your world. A great deal more than any mortal man for I have powers that you do not possess. I have the ability to grant continued life upon those that I count as worthy.”

“What… What must I do to be worthy?”

“You must bring me a gift.”

“How can I possibly bring a gift worthy of you? Worthy of such a being?”

“The gift you bring must be valuable to you. I do not want gold or jewels. I require treasures of the soul.”

Oscar was not a fool, but it took him a moment to understand. He knelt down, unsteadily in his old age, on the rocky ledge.

“What exactly will I receive in return?”

“I will bestow one additional year to your life. Be mindful child, for when the gift is received all memories of it will be given as well.”

“I won’t remember the gift?”

“None of it. From the moment you first came to know it, to the moment that it is received by me. All memories of it will be consumed.”

Oscar stood and began to ascend the rocky shore. His feet slipped on the rocks in his haste, but he managed to steady himself.

He turned back, “When I have a gift to give, how will I find you?”

“Meet me here and I will find you.”

With that Oscar climbed up the bank and out of sight of the creature.

He returned the very next day. As he came to the place where he first met the mistress he heard her. Her voice captivated him, pulled him along despite the fact that he had not slept the entire night. His mind had been twisted into a knot as he tried to produce a gift worthy of her.

As he climbed down into the bay he saw her once again silhouetted by the rising sun from the east. He shielded his eyes from the reflecting light with one hand as he cautiously climbed down the worn rocks of the shore. She saw him and slipped into the water from her ledge and reemerged near him. To Oscar's surprise she was not in her human form, but the form of the horrible creature that he first met. She quickly changed into the figure he would have dreamt about had he slept the night before.

“You are back so soon” she said with her calm and charming voice.

“I don’t have a lot of time left.”

“This is true.”

“I brought a gift.”

Oscar revealed a brown paper sack that was nearly as wrinkled as he. The mistress raised her eyebrows and slowly slid through the water as if gliding on ice. Her inky eyes were locked on the sack. He unrolled the paper bag and held its contents aloft. A glass bottle with a dark amber liquid sloshing around inside. The woman took the bottle and examined it closely. It was tiny compared to her enormous hands.

“It’s a bottle of soda. Root beer to be exact.”

“How very interesting,” the mistress whispered, “Why have you brought this to me?”

“It is a modest gift, I know. But you asked for something valuable to me. A ‘treasure of the soul’. Well… This was what I could think of.”

“I understand this, but why is it this item that you have chosen to give and to sacrifice?”

“It reminds me of my father.”

“Go on.”

“After a hard day's work we would sit on our back porch and drink together. We would watch the sun set and count the planes and watch their trails fade.”

“I see.”

She rolled the bottle around her palm with one large finger.

“When he would work on our car he would ask me to help and when we were done we’d grab a few and go for a ride. I’d stick my hand out the window and let it go limp so it could ride on the wind.”

“Are you prepared to relinquish these memories?”

“If what you say is true. That I will be given another year of life.”

“It is true.”

She raised the bottle into the air, pinched between her thumb and index finger. Her mouth opened wide revealing the long fangs under her human façade and she swallowed it whole. Oscar's head whirled from side to side, his eyes wide with bewilderment.

“Thank you for your gift, Oscar.”

“How did I–”

“How did you arrive here? You came of your own volition, though you do not remember.”

“What did I give you?”

“I am not at liberty to say.”

She slipped under the surface and reemerged, perching herself on her throne once again. She flipped her wet hair over her shoulder.

“Then it was worthy, wasn’t it?”

“Yes child of man, it was worthy. You now have one more year of life.”

“Thank you. Umm…mistress of the sea.”

Oscar bowed his head, unsure of what would be customary for a divine being. She bowed hers in reply.

“Return here exactly one year from now and I will again grant another year of life in return for a worthy gift.”

She dove into the sea without a splash or sound. Oscar left the rocky shore without a trace of memory involving his respectable gift.

+++

Exactly one year later he found himself on the island, hobbling down the golden beach to the rocky outcrop. Under his arm was another brown paper bag. This one was larger and flatter than the last, but just as wrinkled. In his other hand was a drink in a glass bottle. Once again, the celestial song filled his mind and once again, he climbed down to the hallowed place among the pillars of stone.

“What have you brought me?”

To Oscar's surprise, the mistress was not in her usual reptilian form, but was the picturesque image of beauty. She was settled on her stone where she gazed out into the ocean. Her hair drifted with the salty breeze.

“This one took some time to find.”

Oscar set his drink on an outcrop of rock with care and tore the brown paper bag to reveal a vinyl record. On its cover was a portrait of a somber man wearing a fedora. The words ‘Fly Me to the Moon” were scrawled across it. The mistress slumped into the water and resurfaced in front of Oscar.

“It’s Frank Sinatra,” he said unsteadily.

His hands trembled as he stared at it in silence. The patter of the water on the rocks lulled him as he reminisced, then he raised it upward in his palms as if it was delicate.

“I know of this man,” she replied in her misty voice, “If it took so long to find then how can it be of import to you?”

“I haven’t played it in a while. It… It was our song. My wife and I. It’s our first dance song. Whenever I hear it I think of her, of our life together before she passed.”

“Are you prepared to relinquish these memories?”

“Yes. If it means one more year, then… yes.”

“Very well.”

She plucked the record from his hands and once again opened her mouth to reveal her fangs. The record appeared to be no more than the size of a cracker in comparison to her and she treated it as such, devouring it in a single bite. Immediately, Oscar lost all memories that pertained to the song or the record itself.

“I gave you another gift. Didn’t I?”

“Yes child. And I have given you another year of life to live,” the mistress said in her usual vaporous voice.

“Thank you,” Oscar said, giving her a small bow.

The mistress turned to leave him but stopped at the effervescent sound of a bottle of soda opening.

“What is that in your hand?”

Oscar had taken the glass bottle from the rock and opened it.

“It’s a root beer.”

He held it up for the mistress who’s eyes widened.

Oscar continued, “my grandchildren gave me a whole case for my birthday. I was surprised because I’ve never tried it before. They were pretty surprised by that as well. They acted like I was joking.”

“That’s very interesting. Please, go on,” the mistress said as she drew herself closer.

“Well… We all sat around our firepit and watched the sunset together. It was really good. The time, I mean. The drink is good too but the time I’ve had with them is just… really good.”

He took a swig and gazed out over the ocean. Without a word the mistress vanished under the water and Oscar vanished from the place once again.

+++

Oscar climbed down the rocks precisely one year to the day since he last visited. He was not carrying anything in a bag on this occasion. There, on the stone mount reclined the mistress, magnificent and formidable as ever in her pseudo human form, bathed in starlight. Her alluring song echoed through him and faded.

“You are more late than usual,” she said in her dreamlike manner while gazing up at the clear sky dotted with stars.

“Yes, I… I wasn’t sure if I was ready.” Oscar said, also gazing upward.

“Have you brought me something?”

Oscar's vision turned down to the ring on his hand. He rolled it around his ring finger and his eyes drew tears.

“I have,” he said sullenly.

The mistress drifted toward him through the blackened water.

“I see that this is of great importance to you,” she said, “are you prepared to render it to me?”

“To be honest, I’m having second thoughts.”

“You do not have to give me anything that you do not wish to.”

“I know. But I have to.”

Oscar pulled the ring off with minimal effort. His finger was thin and patched with age. He held it upward and framed the moon in gold, casting a circular shadow on his face.

“Are you ready?” asked the mistress who held out her hand.

Oscar took one last look at the ring and placed it in her hand. It was the size of a crumb by comparison and she swallowed it as easily as if it was. Immediately Oscar wiped the tears from his face and attempted to gain his bearings.

“That’s it then?” he said.

“You have been granted another year.”

He bowed his head and began to climb the rocks. The mistress dipped into the water, her head turned to the sky. A faint and high-pitched sound came from shore and upon hearing it, the mistress rushed toward it. Her claws scraped against the stone.

“What is that sound?” she asked in a frenzied tone.

Oscar stopped whistling.

“It’s a song,” He said, half questioning her fervor.

“I know it,” she said with eyes as big and black as the night.

“You know ‘Fly me to the moon’?”

“I do. How do you know of it?” she asked.

“My brother played it for me.”

“Go on.”

“We were in the car and he played it for me. He told me I always loved it. I thought he was being poetic, but he was right in a sense. I do love it. There’s just something about it.”

The mistress lowered herself into the water and without a word left him on the outcrop.

+++

Oscar hobbled down the beach. This trip had taken more toll on him than the last and he helped himself along with a cane. His usual climb over the rocks and into the bay was more difficult and he labored for breath as he came to a resting spot at the water’s edge. The mistress rested on her rock and had watched him with her black eyes clumsily make his way to her. Her usual song faded.

“Have you brought me a cane?” she asked, her voice light and airy.

“Oh this? No, no. Not a cane,” he gave a grin.

“What have you brought me then?”

“Me.”

“You?” she perked up at this.

“Yes, just me.”

“You are what you want to give?”

“I am,” he nodded.

She slid into the water, her scaly tail following behind her.

“Are you prepared to give me this gift?”

“I am,” he straightened himself.

“I cannot impart another year of life onto you if you yourself are the gift.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you certain?”

“You have given me three more years with the people I love the most. The people I’d give anything for. The people I’d give myself for.”

“I cannot give anything to them in exchange for you.”

“You already did.”

The mistress and Oscar stared at one another in silence. The sounds of gulls and the waves filled the void.

“Very well,” she said.

She plucked him from the rocks and held him aloft. Her glorious hair flowed in the breeze as she tilted her head backwards. The man was swallowed whole by the mistress of the sea.