If Only She'd Loved Him

Chapter 55

Saturday 3:20 pm

Megan was at the seashore. Waves lapping between her toes. She giggled as the water forced sandy grit under her feet. The ocean was beautiful. Aqua and turquoise, the waves rolled like pearlescent cliffs, scooping up and then scooping down. She wanted to feel closer to the sea. She waded in a few more feet. Now, it was up to just below her knees.

Tangy salt scented the air as she breathed deep. In the corner of her eye, she could just see a fish swimming close to the shore. It was so pretty. She watched it swim, tail swishing like a gauzy fan. If she could see the fish in the shallow water so could other eyes. A gull pounced upon it, beak diving like a knife, clamping deep upon its back. The fish spasmed. Yanked away from its home, away from where it could breathe, it fought to return.   But now Megan watched as a second predator entered the fray. Another seagull fought with the first one over the fish, playing tug of war up in the air. The fish's scales glinted in the sun, looking like tiny jewels. Its back rocked up and down, fighting the birds' play till at last it hung dry in the air.

The water felt so good! It rushed upon Megan, calling her deeper. The sun was hot on her back. It drilled heat into her bones. She wanted to cool off further. The first seagull switched tactics in mid-air. Letting go of the fish, it dove at the second seagull. Bayonet-sharp it drew blood and feathers. The wounded bird gave a harsh squawk. Then, admitting defeat, it dropped the fish, half bones and half sparkle, on the shore. The victor dove upon the dead fish. Orange webs planted, it ate out the eyes, then flew away, leaving its victim to bake in the sun.

The dead fish landed near Megan and she became curious. She scuttled ashore, backwards like a crab, till she could peer at its face. Gnawed apart, the fish wore its scales in a tattered dress. Two large black holes remained where its eyes had been. Its mouth was open, squawking silence. If she poked it, would it come back to life? she wondered. Jump upon her, its back snapping like a rubber band as it fought to get back to the sea?

The waves rolled up. Watery fingers outstretched, they almost touched the dead fish. She'd better hurry. Scurrying to her feet, Megan ran up the beach looking for a stick, but couldn't find one. She glanced backwards: the waves had started to take the fish back home. She had no choice. Running back to the fish, she shut her eyes and poked it with a chubby finger. It felt slick from the salt, though its tiny scales prodded at her skin.  She poked it again. The fish just lay there. The water came back, higher up shore. Buffeted by the waves, the fish danced back to its home. Megan watched it go. The bones and faded sparkles traveled out of her sight, and five-year old Megan returned to the ocean, up to her knees and no deeper. She didn't want to follow the fish out to sea.

Still tasting salt on her tongue, Megan shook herself awake. The fish felt dead and rubbery beneath her fingers. She rubbed them trying to get rid of the feeling. What time was it? She'd give anything just to know what time it was! When had Erik left? When would he be back? What time was it? Still feeling the sun from her dream, Megan realized she was thirsty. She reached for the can of soda but it was warm by now. Thanks to him, she couldn't even have a cold drink! Furious at such a simple thing being denied her, she popped the cap off with more force than she'd intended, snapping it right off the can. But as she raised the can to her lips, she suddenly stopped. The can tab lay hot and sweaty in her palm, giving her a strong feeling of deja vu. Megan examined the piece of metal in her hand. She admired its size, its shape. It looked a lot like a paperclip, a nice fat paperclip. Smiling wider, she fingered the metal happily. Her drink tasted much better now.

Putting the soda can back on the table, Megan resumed admiring the push tab. She quickly discovered that the metal was too hard for her to bend with her fingers, so she tried to insert the whole thing into the slot of the handcuff. It didn't fit. Bending, twisting, she tried again and again. Finally, she got a piece of it in on a diagonal. She twisted her makeshift key hard in the slot. It snapped in two. Megan swore, but didn't give up. Left with two pieces of metal, one like a rounded L, and one resembling a Y, she chose the one like a Y and pushed it inside the lock. Erik had filed down the tabs on the outside of the cuffs. She had no way to gauge her progress, except by how loose the handcuff got. It didn't get loose at all. Giving up on the Y shaped piece, Megan tried the piece shaped like an L. This piece created an instant dilemma. It was too hard to bend with her fingers, but it twisted so easily up against the metal, she was afraid she'd snap it. Her task had just gotten harder.

Time was passing. She knew hours had gone by since she'd given up on her puzzle magazines and fallen asleep. The sun winked at her, striping the bed with slits of light. It was getting dark in here. The bedside light seemed brighter. She might never get another chance. She kept trying. Thirty minutes later, she knew how lucky she'd been to unlock her wrist in the car before. The metal tab dug into her fingers, poking them with tiny holes. Her wrist ached and stung. Her fingers were so sweaty, she was sure the tab would slip to the floor, and she'd never be able to reach it. Rubbing her hands dry on the sheets, she tried again. Push, twist, pray. Her eyes blinked as the handcuff notched a slot. Not daring to believe it, Megan pulled hard on the side of the handcuff and twisted again. It opened just far enough for her to pull her hand out. She was free.