1st 5 Pages April Workshop - Jolley

Name: Mary Jolley
Genre: Young Adult: Magical Realism
Title: BLACK BAY

The ocean roared against the cliffs, calling to me. Sunlight scratched my eyelids. I didn’t want to open them. Outside, a gull squawked. Day two in the Faroe Islands. I sucked in a breath and faced reality—still in the attic where Dad had put us. His daughters. Like junk. Cracks veined the pitched A-frame ceiling. I groped my backpack for my half-empty water bottle.

“What time is it?” Elin rolled, jostling the cranky double bed.

I found my phone—the phone that no longer had cell service. “It’s two.”

Elin sat up. “In the afternoon?” She cradled her head in her hands. “Ugh. Dizzy.” Her hair fell forward in a golden sheet.

I stumbled across the bare wood floor to the tiny bathroom. The thin square toilet seat was weirdly low to the ground. The grainy bar of soap at the sink smelled like seaweed. I picked up my toothbrush. Elin squeezed in with me.

“I could eat a horse,” Elin said.

“Don’t even say it. That could possibly be what’s for breakfast.”

“As long as it’s not raw gucky fish again.”

We went downstairs and found breakfast in the fridge—a slice of dense nutty bread topped with mayonnaise, tiny cold shrimp, and dill. Gag.

“I’m going full vegan,” Elin said.

“Pretty sure that’s an eating disorder around here.” I bravely picked up one of the toasts. I brought it near my face and inhaled dead fish. I sealed my lips and put it back. Where could I get a bowl of cereal? Maybe a banana? I rummaged around the small fridge. Strange meats and cheeses. Condiments. Smoked fish. Creepy amount of dill and radish. I pulled out two cucumbers and two apples and handed one of each to Elin.

She lifted a note from the counter and read it aloud in Danish. “Good morning Elin and Serena. Didn’t want to wake you. I’m at work. Enjoy your smørrebrød and this lovely morning. STAY on Hardrada property. I’ll show you more around the island tonight. See you for another late dinner. Dad.” Elin dropped the paper and switched to English. “So much for bonding with Dad today.”

Why did he even want us here? He hadn’t been home yesterday when we arrived after the never-ending voyage from Utah. We’d moved here for him. We’d left our lives to make a new one with Dad. He cared so much he had his assistant pick us up from the local island heliport. I hated feeling like an orphan.

“Let’s go,” I said, ripping off a chunk of apple with my teeth.

“He says to stay here.” Elin’s blue eyes were sharp and disapproving.

“I’ll explode if I do.” After yesterday’s flights and this cramped cottage, I needed to move. The ocean and rugged coastline beckoned. “Stay here if you want.”

Elin puffed out a disbelieving breath. “I’m not letting you go alone. I’m coming.”

“Then let’s go.”

The day boasted sunny and warm. We changed into shorts and sneakers. Outside, I peeked through the windows of a small shed.

“Now we’re talking.” I opened the rusty door and tugged a couple of old bicycles out of the shadows.

“I haven’t ridden a bike in years,” Elin said.

I filled the flat tires with the hand pump. “You’ll be fine. It’s just like riding a bike.”

Elin rolled her eyes, but took her hands off her hips and put them on the handle bar I offered. “What about helmets?”

“None in here.” I eyed dust mites and fishing gear.

“That’s safe, Dad.”

“We’ll be careful,” I said.

“And we won’t go far,” Elin said.

We’ll see.

Even though Elin was eleven months older than me, I led out on our bikes. I was five inches taller and hewn from stronger material. Lean muscle, lithe, and athletic.

And I knew where I was going.

The beach I’d seen last night on Dad’s brief island tour called to me. A narrow strip of black beach nestled among the crags. I wanted to stand where sea meets land—where two worlds collide.

Growing up in landlocked Utah, I hadn’t been to the coast. Mom never took us to the ocean. Ever. Seeing the deep beauty, I thought maybe she stayed away because the memories were too painful. But today, for the first time in my life, I would touch the ocean.

We pedaled away from the whitewashed cottage, past Hardrada Energy, Dad’s mining company. The steel buildings looked like alien invaders on the sleepy island. The main gate of the company compound opened as we approached.

Enjoying a false sense of escaping, I took the curving road south along the rugged coastal cliffs. We passed verdant pastures and red and white houses, but few cars. The wind woke me and the pounding of my legs brought me back to myself.

Elin constantly told me to slow down, and I silently pushed her faster. Far out to sea, Dad’s mining barge looked like a toy boat surrounded by a world of shimmery navy. He’d pointed it out last night when he’d finally graced us with his presence.

We rode for an hour before I found a path leading down the cliff. I stopped in front of a handwritten sign that read, Beware the beach below. Danger. Go to Freya Cove instead. Danger of what? I wanted to see this beach. Find out why I couldn’t stop thinking of that strip of black sand I had seen from the cliffs last night. I blocked the sign from view, determined I would be careful. I waited for Elin to catch up.

Scowling and panting, Elin rolled to a stop. “I’m ready to turn around.”

“Just down this path a little ways. Then we’ll take a rest before heading straight back.”

She wiped at a thin layer of sweat on her brow. “Fine.”

The path turned to packed dirt and shifted steeply down as it cut into black cliffs. Exhilarated by the beauty, I loosened the brakes and flew. Elin whooped behind me. She cheered when having fun. When we went sledding, she was the loudest on the mountain. People flocked to her for it. I enjoyed the pleasure in silence—that made the riot bigger inside my chest.

At the bottom of the cliffs, the path ended abruptly at a swath of small rocks. I slammed my brakes and skidded to the side. Elin wasn’t so quick. She hit the gravel.

 “Whoa!” Her wheels twisted and stopped with a jerk. She jumped off as the bike slid to the ground.

Well we found the danger. “Nice move.” My heart thrummed. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Banged my leg is all.” She panted and grimaced as she surveyed her scratched shin and red knee.

I picked up her bike. Flat tire. Rats.

“I didn’t want to bike home anyway,” she said. “Call Dad.”

Last night Dad had given us a flip phone from the dinosaur age. I pulled it out of my sports bra and wiped off the sheen of sweat. “No service.” I flipped it closed.

“We can try again up on the main road.” She looked up. “Out of this canyon.” The way back disappeared between towering rock faces. The way forward was a jumble of massive boulders.

“First, we are checking this out.” I left the bikes and eagerly started for the crack of blue visible between massive rocks lining the path. Sneakers crunched on sharp gravel. Protective Plexiglas covered the sheer face of a slanting boulder. Engravings etched the rock underneath.

“Super rad,” I said. Viking carvings. The Vikings were intense and admittedly brutal, but pretty awesome considering their genius and prowess. I pressed my hands over the glass, wishing I could trace the curves and slashes with my fingers. I loved myths, Norse most especially. There was the Yggdrasil, the world tree. Crude animals and weapons surrounded it. The symbol for Rán, goddess of the sea.