Turquoise Void

When a deceased child is discovered on a beach, the small town of Whangara is thrust into a world of lies, rumors and mystery. But when an answer finally arises...will they be able to accept the truth

There I stood. A vast expanse of water stretched in every direction to the horizon. I, a mere speck, wading through a turquoise void, free of gravity. I breathed deeply, submerging myself into the bleak, yet inviting world that lies beneath. I had grown accustomed to my morning outings. The beach was quiet at this hour, in fact the only other life forms were the fisherman preparing there boats for the strenuous day ahead. Bubbles of oxygen escaped my nose, and brushed past skin. The opening of my eyes is met with a brief stinging sensation. I looked down at the scattered collection of shells and rocks surrounding my feet. I dipped my head closer, trying to make out the patterns and colours, but a hard kicking sensation emerges at the back of my throat and my chest feels hollow. I poke my head above the water and take a deep breathe. I look behind me. A comprehensive stretch of sand. The occasional scrap of seaweed juxtaposing against the beige tract. However, I am fixated on something more than a mere scrap of seaweed. Surely it can’t be. I blink rapidly, and rub my eyes, in reassurance that I am not hallucinating. I open my eyes, and yet...it is still there. My heart begins pumping with anxiety. I leap from the water, and a symphony of splashes erupt harmoniously around me as I bound from the water. I run. I am drenched with a feeling of sickness.My eyes throb. Ringing screams vibrate in my ears. The pulsating beat of my heart grows faster as I sprint, closer and closer. I shiver. Perhaps it's the brisk winter air, or the growing fear saturating my body. I stop suddenly. I have reached my destination. I peer down at a body. The body of a young boy.  

I kneel down beside the boy. I sense of reluctance enters my mind, but is swiftly ignored. His neck is bruised and there is a slight cut on his upper forehead. His lips are blue and his skin is abnormally pale. He lays motionless. His arms dropped to his side. His legs slightly bent.  A pool of tears began to surface, but I refrain. I needed help. He needed help. I stood up and peered down at the body. He didn’t look familiar. He certainly wasn't one of the local boys. My head went cloudy with theories concerning the identity of the poor child. I tried to block them but I was powerless. I felt sick in my stomach. Mere moments ago I was indulging in the very article that possibly killed the boy. What I interpreted as harmless...That turquoise void, was the very entity that killed the child.  What was I going to do. The nearest Police Station was in Apple Bay, and that was at least a 7 minute drive from Whangara. I left the boy, and ran the steep ridge dividing the velvety sand of the beach and the frosty morning grass of the village. There was an eerie silence...then again, what was I expecting. The village hardly had peak activity at 7.10 on a Saturday morning. I ran to the phone box. I can’t remember the last time it had been used. I stepped inside, and hastily dialed the emergency number. A robotic voice echoes through the telephone. “You have dialled emergency Triple One. Your call is being connected.” It said. I paused for a moment, and took a deep breathe.  I could barely talk. What could I even say? The soft voice of a male operator squeaked through the phone “Do you require police, fire or ambulance?” He said. “Police” I murmured. “Okay. What is your problem?” He uttered.  “Umm…well..I was just down at the beach and...uhh...I found a body.” I mumbled nervously. There was a brief patch of silence. “Are you calling from Whangara?” he asked. “Yes” I replied. “An officer is on there way.” The operator said.

I head home and dry myself off. This feeling of pure disgust and fear flushed my body. What was merely an innocent morning swim, had developed into the gruesome scene of a crime. By the time the police arrived and carried out the investigation, the village had awoken from its blissful ignorance and been shaken by the harshness of reality. I returned to the beach and was introduced to an assortment of police officers and detectives. The gentle click of a camera shutter and the subdued scribble of pen interacting with paper was amplified as journalists swarmed to capture the frontpage story. How could people be so...careless? A boy was dead, and it seemed that the majority of scenario was merely a topic of gossip. Sergeant Spears approached me. He looked shocked. He had been working in the area before I was born and it was obvious that nothing could of prepared him for the horrors that he had seen that morning. “How are you going Pia?” He said, trying to spark up a friendly conversation. I remained silent. Not because I didn’t want to talk...but because pathetic small talk was the last of things I wanted to partake in. I had questions and yet there was still no explanation. He could sense that I was agitated. Sergeant Spears gazed up into the overcast sky. The clouds, painted of various shades of grey,  looked bitter and dense, pouring a soft, yet menacing light onto the world. Journalists walked home and the investigators began to pack up. The boy's body was covered in a sickly green fabric, and removed on a stretcher. All that could be done, had been done. The beach that had been inhabited only moments ago had returned to its empty state, much like the previous hours when I discovered the boy. Silence. It was just me and the Sergeant. He turned to me, staring nonchalantly. “How about I take you home?” He muttered gently. “I’ll be fine” I said. Spears frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. Pia...You’ve had a rough day, and your alone. At least let me take you home.”

Sergeant Spears walked me home. The walk was mostly silent. What was there to discuss? What in reality was actually quite a short walk, considering the house was so close to the beach, felt like a lifetime. My legs felt cramped and throbbed with pain, but the pain was easily ignorable. No physical pain could equate to the sheer terrors I had seen earlier.

“What were you doing down at the beach anyway?” said the Sergeant taking a sip of coffee. “I always go swimming in the morning.” I responded. The Sargeant smiled, oddly amused with my practises. “On freezing winter mornings?” He chuckled. The Sargeant took another sip of coffee. I felt reluctant to talk about it. But...I had to ask. “Sargeant...what happened to...the boy?” I asked, hesitantly. He paused, almost as if to contemplate his answer. “Well...we’re not quite sure. We are having the autopsy and then hopefully we will be able to identify him. But…” He stopped suddenly. “Doesn’t matter” he mumbled. I was intrigued. “What?” I asked. He glanced up at me. “Well...Obviously, you have been through a lot..and the last thing I want to do is startle you...but I just have to ask you something…” He said, with a look of concern in his eyes. “Did you kill the boy?” Sergeant Spears asked hesitantly. I was shocked. Was he serious? I had a feeling deep down that he might suspect I had something to do with it. It makes perfect sense. I was the only one down at the beach, suddenly a dead child is found. It all aligns perfectly. “ No! Of course not!” I cried. He nodded. “I didn’t mean to upset you Pia...but everyone's a bit worried. A child's been found dead and you were at the scene of the crime.” Spears said, reaching for his coffee. Tears dripped down my eyes like rain dripping from a tin roof. “I can guarantee you Sargeant...I did not kill that boy!”

The next day

I didn’t go swimming today. I could barely bring myself to look at the beach anymore. So I am sitting at the kitchen table. Its 10:44 and I can barely bring myself to do anything. I was planning on visiting the school today to have a meeting with some of the teachers about Mauri Integration month...but with regards to recent incident, I hardly think that it is the time.  I hear the obnoxious ring of my phone, and whip it out of my pocket. Its Sargeant Spear. I take a deep breathe, anticipating bad news. I answer. “Sargeant?” I say awkwardly. “Hi Pia...Is this a good time?” He asks. “Yeah….it is fine,” I say. Concern and anxiety looms in the back of my head, and begins to creep into my conscious. What possibly could he want to discuss? “I have the results from the autopsy...and there's something important we need to discuss. Meet me at the station”

I grab my coat and leave for the Station. I am not sure why I feel so anxious. Typically I wouldn’t be so nervous, especially in the hands of authority. After all, I am a chief. Never the less, I guess in spite of yesterday, I have just been anticipating the worst. I barely slept last night. I kept on having these bizarre dreams. But it all felt so real. I was there at the beach again...exactly where I was that morning. I turned around to look back the shore. I was expecting to see the boy and I dead….except he was alive and standing close to the water's edge. He stood there. Staring at me. He raised his arm and motioned me. My heart pulsated with fear. I rose from the water and approached him. He then said something to me. But I can’t remember what. I woke up.

I took the trail into Apple Bay, and make my way down the main street. I pass the News Agency, and see the headline story “Deceased Child Found At Beach”. Apple Bay was your classic small fishing town. It was hardly known for such macabre murder mysteries. I cross the road, and reach the Police Station. I enter the administration office. I see Sargeant Spear. He approaches me reluctantly, as if ready to tell me that I have a horrific disease and am going to die in 3 hours. “Hi. come this way” He says abruptly, leading me down a series of hallways into an office. The mid-morning sun shines through a window perched high in the walls, displaying the stripes of the blinds onto the opposite walls. It feels like I am in a crime film. The office smells sanitary, and everything seems perfect. To chairs sit opposite to the desk and one of them holds a well-groomed woman. She is dressed in a suit and her hair is is formed into a perfectly symmetrical bob cut. The woman has a bizarre scent of Chanel and cigarettes. Our hands reach to shake, but instead meet to form an awkward fumble. “Ms Apirana. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Dr Suzannah.” She says welcomingly. I smile. Sergeant Spears sits behind the desks and opens a folder revealing a series of documents. “Thanks for coming Pia.” He says, removing three papers from the folder. “You may be wondering what this is all about?” He adds. “Well...where do I begin. Dr Suzannah conducted the Autopsy...and discovered some shocking details. Now...I am not going to bore you with the facts...but, upon testing the boys internal DNA, we found that the cells match exactly with the DNA you left at the scene.” He explained. “What exactly are you saying?” I ask, confused as to what he is saying. Dr Suzannah turns to me. “What he is trying to say is that your DNA matches exactly with the boys. He is your son.” She adds.

Chills run across my back and down into my arms. My heart begins to pump with sheer anxiety. I feel sick to my stomach. It makes no sense. A child? I shake. My body is drenched with fear. My mind rings with yelling voices all screaming the same words…

“he is your son”

Author's Note

All reviews are appreciated