The Ocean's Invitation

Julianne Holmquist || Spring 2021

The warm sand perfectly cradled the arch of Ursula's back and the ground rose up to meet her, Ursula felt utterly sunken. Hungover from the night before and still trying to forget the awful things James had said to her and the awful things she had said first. Slowly the night came back to her and... she slowly remembered that she had started it. Perhaps she chose to plop herself down in the sunniest place with shrieking children and crashing waves as a means of punishment for ruining everything. Yet, Ursula had always been drawn to the ocean when she needed comfort. Perhaps, despite the fact that the beach is a completely inhospitable place to ride out a hangover, she needed the sand rising up to meet her and the waves like love rushing in and pulling away in a predictable and meditative cycle. Perhaps that is why when the people she grew up with met the people they loved they moved to places like Arizona and New Mexico to buy houses. Those people wanted to be with one another more than they wanted to be with the waves. The waves. Despite her better judgement she slightly opened her eyes and let the sun shoot its rays seemingly to the very back of her skull. She groaned and pulled down her sunhat as she walked step by step letting shells and washed up twigs dig into her feet. Then she stood there and let the water come to her and pull away.

Ursula really kicked herself when the sun started reflecting on the darker patch of water she had fixed her gaze on in an attempt to fight sensory overload. But then the light shone brighter, as if something was amplifying the sun's brightness. It was gold. Ursula slowly bent down to her knees, now letting the water wash all the way up to her waist. She plunged her hand into the cold water and found a ring tangled in seaweed. Yet, the second Ursula touched the ring, the tangles of seaweed that held it in place seemed to unfold and slip away. This ring had the face of an old man with his mouth open and tentacles or seaweed, pouring out of it and spilling into the band. The spraying and crashing ocean sounded like ever amplifying hums. Voice upon voice humming low and quiet, higher and louder, and then just as the hums began to drown out her ears they slowly dropped off, the beautiful choir receded like the waves, and then they picked up again in this never ending cycle. Unsure why, Ursula trailed off, back to her small condo. The humming followed her. It filled her head and she sang along. When she arrived home, Ursula flopped onto her couch and closed her eyes, head still pounding. James offered her half of his sandwich but she still didn't care much to eat. And, though she did not protest, it seemed her voice was fixated only on the song. I guess we're still not talking then, she thought she heard James say as she drifted off to sleep.

The crescendo and diminuendo of Ursula's humming crept into James' mind and took hold. It made him forget about those horrible things he said yesterday and calmed him down. He looked over Ursula puzzled over how he had never noticed what a beautiful voice she had. Then he saw the golden, gaunt old man wrapped around her finger. Something about the way their lamplight reflected on the ring caught his eye and he slid it off her finger. Humming along with it, finding that his voice sounded beautiful too when he sang along with the waves. Then he trailed off. He left the door hanging wide open as he made that short walk down to the beach as he followed the song down, down, down. As far as he could make it until his lungs filled with water and he gave his voice to the ocean's choir.