The Marina | Rowan Wasserman

Alex was up at the cabin for the week. Standard practice for the family, long

weekends ended up on the marina. Martin Luther King Day, Veterans Day, not

important really, all that mattered was the “family time” spent avoiding each other

on the coast. With her sister back from college, it was a bit more fun than normal.

Still Alex couldn’t help but wish to be back at home. The pull out couch was not

as comfortable as her bed.

The cabin was small and lacked a teenager's necessities: snacks, alone time,

reliable internet, etc. Alex wasn’t one to complain, but she always tried her best

to get out of the vacations here. It wasn’t any sort of aversion to her family, no,

she just wanted some decent personal space.

The marina was not a place of peace and quiet. It was roadside and always busy.

A wide curving highway with too many streetlights and too many cars. With only

windows to separate her sofa-bed from the road, sleeping here was a challenge.

How she had managed to lose her room privileges to her sister, she had no idea.

The house had two bedrooms, one for parents, one for whichever kid got to it

first. The bedroom wasn’t a great option either, and Alex usually ended up taking

the couch. Of course the bed would be comfier, but she didn’t like the way the

wind tapped at the window. No one else seemed to hear it, how unnervingly

irregular and quiet it was... She didn’t like it.

So, here she was, sleeping on the pull out couch. The sheets were itchy and the

cars were loud. Alex turned over, searching for that perfect position that would

whisk her away to her dreams. Alas, she couldn’t find it.

An hour went by and she had no such luck. The cars remained and the old house

creaked and groaned in its recognizable fashion. She heard the dog running

down the stairs, heard her whining. Hoping to go outside most likely. Might as

well, thought Alex. Nothing better to do.

She turned on her phone's flashlight, grabbed the dog leash and headed for the

door, sliding her frozen feet into a pair of her dad's shoes. Opening the door, she

immediately regretted her decision to leave her stuffy sofa bed. The air was

bitingly cold and the world was too dark around her. Without her glasses she was

incredibly nervous about the prospects of tripping in her dad's huge shoes. Alex

walked the dog slowly around the house, standing in the small patch of grass in

front, directly outside of where her pull out was. She leaned against the house,

closing her eyes and adjusting to the coolness of night. A car passed by, turning

her closed eyes blindingly white.

She stood there, taking in the silence and peace of the night as her eyes

adjusted to the dark. She looked out towards the marina, examining the

streetlight and the moths gathering under it. She watched a moth's flight path,

saw how it wavered on shaky wings to land on top of a parked car in the lot. Alex

blinked. I wonder if that car's owner knows how illegal it is to be parked here

overnight, she thought, laughing to herself. Better watch for the towing truck.

As she turned her head towards the dog, ready to head back inside, she froze in

her tracks as her frostbitten ears picked up something strange. It sounded like,

whistling?

She stood there, completely still, straining her ears for that sound again. After a

moment she was certain she had made it up, her tired ears tricking her into fear.

It’s nothing, it’s nothing, go back in and sleep. But then, there it was again! Slow,

steady, clear whistling. A simple four note pattern, repeated and slowly gaining in

pace. Alex stood up straighter, looking out at the marina, searching for that other

presence. Who else was out at 2 in the morning, watching the marina? Another

moment passed. The whistling continued. Her dog whined, soft fur brushing up on

Alex’s cold legs, shocking her back to her senses. What am I doing? Standing

here in the middle of the night jumping at my own shadow? Go to bed, Alex!

She shook off her paralysis and willed her legs to move, to carry her back into the

house. She ripped her gaze away from the marina and told her legs firmly, Move!

She ran back into the house, locking the door behind her and dashing to her bed.

She curled up, covering her head with her blankets and shakingly held the dog to

her. She regained her warmth, slowed her breathing, and eventually fell asleep.

She fell asleep, trying her very best to ignore the whistling. Trying to ignore the

way that the tune stuck in her head, clinging to her thoughts. She fell asleep, not

quite managing to ignore the quiet and irregular tapping on her windows.