Why Jesse Tuck Hates The Ocean

3 Reasons

Miles and Jesse had pledged to spend more time together. Family was the only consistency in their eternal life, and every few years they decided to plan a vacation together. They've visited the African safari, climbed Mount Everest, kayaked down the Amazon, and seen countless other sights. Miles remembered how much his brother had loved the ocean. He used to talk about it constantly, rambling about the countless creatures that lurked in the waters that would remain unknown. He used to say that he would go down in a submarine one day to see what it was like, and if he couldn't find one, he would swim to the bottom of the sea himself. As the years went by, he talked about it less. Miles assumed he'd just forgotten about his dream with time. After all, they've been alive for over 200 years and they didn't always remember certain things. So he decided that he'd do something nice for his brother, and asked if he wanted to go to Australia with him, where they could go surfing, relax on the beach, and even get in a shark cage next to some of the world's largest great whites. Jesse used to say how he always wanted to do that, but in recent years, it was as if his brother had completely forgotten that the ocean even existed. But when he asked if he wanted to go, his brother had a panic attack. It took 20 minutes to get him to calm down. He didn't know if he wanted to talk about or leave it be, and he decided to leave that up to Jesse.

"I hate the ocean," those were the only words he could choke out between sobs. And just like that, all the reasons came flooding back to him.

Reason 1: 1912
He had bought a ticket for the maiden voyage of the biggest ship to date. History was being made before his eyes, and he was gonna be a part of it! History was made alright, and after days of gambling and fun, it all came to an end. He felt the boat strike something large and heard a terrible metal scraping. Everyone else dismissed it for the most part, but he could tell something wasn't right. Hours past and suddenly they were sinking. Chaos on deck as people rushed to the lifeboats that there were too few of. Women and children first. Jesse knew he couldn't get on one, it would be too selfish of him. He would survive no matter what. Someone else needed that seat.

He jumped early on. The boat was just beginning to capsize when he plunged himself into the icy waters. His body froze instantly when he hit the water. Just because he was immortal doesn't mean he can't feel, and even though he couldn't really feel pain, it was the most excruciating thing he had ever felt. It was the closest thing to physical pain he could feel. He almost missed it. He sunk for a good bit before coming to his senses. His eyes shot open and all around him he only saw black. He  tilted his head back and saw the boat lights above the water, illuminating the lifeboats and bodies floating. Suddenly, half of the ship broke off and sank quickly past him, startling him as the metal brushed past. He had ran out of air a long time ago, and even though he couldn't die, it was a frightening feeling. His lungs yearned for air, and when he opened his mouth, water rushed inside, filling his body and making him weak from the cold. He tried to cough but found he couldn't, the taste of salt overwhelming him. He was 25 meters below the surface but found he couldn't swim anymore. He needed to rest. It wouldn't hurt to rest, right? He felt his eyelids flutter as the urge to sleep and give up grew more and more.

He shook his head, forcing himself to stay awake. He forced his numb limbs to move through the water until finally, he broke through the surface. The air was sharp against his cold skin as screams and cries rang out in the night, calling for help that didn't come. He looked up at the dark moonless sky dotted with stars and closed his eyes, silently praying for mercy. He forgot which way land was, so he picked a random direction and started swimming.

89 days. That's how long it took to swim back to shore. 89 days of swimming constantly until he couldn't feel his arms and legs, letting himself drift with the waves, staring blearily up at the sun. He was so cold, he forgot what warmth felt like; he was so wet, he forgot what being dry felt like. And even though he didn't necessarily need food to survive, his stomach rumbled so loud, he was shocked it didn't attract sharks or other creatures. He saw a pod of blue whales swim past, breaching close by. It was a beautiful sight, the only good thing to happen to him since he started his swim. He hoped it was a sign of good luck, and that good things were coming his way.

He cried when he saw land on the horizon. He arrived off the coast of Delaware, surprisingly close to his home in New Jersey. His money was soaked, but he had enough to pay a cab driver to drive back to his house where he finally got to rest. He drank two whole gallons of water, and ate all the food in his pantry before sleeping for three weeks straight.

Reason 2: 1945
Jesse had been drafted in the second World War. It wasn't his first one, but after the Great War, he hadn't been too eager to get back to fighting. He was on a secret mission on the USS Indianapolis to deliver the atomic bombs that were said to bring an end to the war. After a successful arrival, they were all ready to celebrate. Then things took a turn for the worst. Two torpedoes struck the ship, and they started sinking. This was so much faster than the Titanic. The boat was sunk in 12 minutes.

Jesse and his comrades clung onto ship wreckage, donned in life jackets. He looked at the men around him, noting that a large chunk of the crew didn't make it out. He yelled out asking for names, hearing the voices of his friends and relaxing a bit. Until he felt something brush against his leg. And someone else did too. And someone else. And then there was the first attack.

By the light of the almost full moon, Jesse watched in horror as his brothers in arms got picked off one by one by ravenous sharks. Blood in the water swirled around them, drawing in more hungry predators. Pain filled screams filled the air as the men were ripped apart and drowned, and the heart wrenching sobs of those who were forced to watch their friends die before their eyes. There was nothing Jesse could do but watch.

"Quint! Over here!" Jesse called out to his friend, pulling him onto his piece of driftwood for safety. The pale moonlight illuminated the scene, and saltwater and tears drenched their faces. And then Jesse felt himself be pulled down. Quint reached out to grab his hand and Jesse tried to cling on, but their grip was no match for a shark's jaws.

It's a strange thing, not dying: being able to feel, but not feel pain. He could feel the teeth sunk into his thigh, ripping and dragging him down only, it didn't hurt. He felt the pressure of each tooth that pierced his skin and tore away the flesh. Jesse tried to get away in a panic, but another shark bit through his arm. Another grew in it's place. He stared at the new appendage before getting struck from behind by the original shark, taking a bite from his side, only for more flesh to grow and replace it. Jesse looked up, staring into the blank and empty eyes of the shark, it's mouth opening wide, showing him all it's teeth, chunks of flesh stuck between. Jesse screamed, the last of his air long gone and swallowing mouthfuls of sea water. His lungs would ache if they could. He reached back as far as his arm could reach, and with all his might thrust his fist towards the shark, punching it on the nose. It swam off, leaving him alone and allowing him to return to the surface. Everyone screamed, not knowing what to expect.

He coughed and sputtered, "It's okay, I'm okay." By the time they were rescued, only 317 members of the 1,196 person crew remained. And out of all the people who went under the water, only Jesse made it back to the surface.

Reason 3: 1985
By this point in time, Jesse had a rough relationship with the ocean. He still loved splashing along by the shore, but refused to get in water deeper than he could touch. He was swimming along a crowded beach in Florida, trying his best to calm his swarming mind. And then he felt something brush against his leg and he froze. Memories came flooding back as teeth dug into his leg, spilling blood into the water for all to see. His skin and flesh instantly healed and the hammerhead swam off after the exploratory bite, but the damage was done. Mothers were gathering their children from the water and lifeguards were already coming to his rescue as the entire beach watched on. Everyone was expecting him to be injured, to have a piece of him missing, to have meat hanging on by the skin. They were all preparing themselves for something awful. Only he didn't have a single scratch on him. Not a single solitary flaw on his smooth perfect skin. His blood was still lingering in the surf, proof of what had happened. He was panicking, thinking of excuses he could use for why he wasn't injured.

He ended up telling the lifeguard that the shark got a fish that happened to be near his leg. He still looked concerned and skeptical, but after looking him over, believed his story. But after that day, it had been proven to Jesse that the ocean was not a safe place for him. It brought nothing but bad luck and traumatizing memories, and he refused to step foot in it. It served as a reminder that no matter what he goes through, there truly is no way out.

Miles didn't know this. He made a point not to tell his family any of this. But he decided now, maybe it was time to share his burden. His brother listened, not uttering a sound, instead listening to Jesse's words spoken through sobs, all the while holding him in a tight embrace. When he was finished, all Jesse could say was, "I used to love the ocean..."