Salt and Light
H. C. Smith
H. C. Smith
A great veil of fog was swept across the expanse of the sky, shrouding everything beneath its wing in darkness. The clouds and sea bled together as approaching shadows swelled upon the bow of the murky horizon. The breath of a storm fell upon the roaring seas, lifting the waves over cliff faces and beds of jagged rock.
Rachel stood on the beach, looking out upon the wrathful sea. Perhaps the violent nature of the sea was what terrified her. Ever since she was little, her phobia of the ocean pervaded her life. Her toes curled in the sand. One hundred feet out, dark waves churned in masses of foam, mist, and salt. They called to her.
The frigid wind whirled around her as it was expelled from the belly of the ocean. It rushed through the tall grass amongst the sand bar. Its icy fingers clawed at her long blonde hair and clothes, threatening to pull her into the abyss. The whispering wind was barely inaudible amongst the thunder of the waves.
Rachel was of average height. She was thin and nimble, her face slender, soft, and pretty. Her blonde hair was light like the summer and her eyes were remarkably wide and gracious. They were the color of bronze, like fire amongst the gray of the storm.
Rachel’s eyes had grown familiar to the darkness, as though her life had always been in the shade. Standing so close to something she feared was agonizing. Dread grew like a cancer in her mind and heart. The phobia was painful. It was as if her heart was beating against a cage of barbed wire. She clutched at her chest with her hand and moaned. Her blood was racing through her veins, her stomach churning as the sea.
All she would need would be a flex of her toes and a tip of her weight and she would fall into the grip of the waves that were rushing around her ankles. The sea lured her as it tickled her skin.
The air was thick as she peered over the sea. The winds folded around her as it billowed up from the chasm. Her hair rippled around her face and whispered down her back in the grasp of the storm.
The sea can’t get me.
Suddenly, a storm surge rushed toward her. Her eyes widened as her heart beat within her chest like a powerful drum, threading adrenaline through her. The wind thrashed around her, nearly stripping her of her clothes. The storm was a beast, ready to devour her.
In a matter of seconds, the sea went from being ankle-deep to rushing around her waist. The waves crashed toward her, spewing mist and foam like grinding jaws.
God, no.
She took a breath and toppled into the waves.
God, no.
Rachel fell.
Her heart jolted into a vicious beat. The ferocious sea rushed up to her. She did not get the chance to catch her breath before she plummeted into the ocean. The surface of the water broke like paper, but the waves hit her like slabs of concrete. The sea lashed over her head and silence and shadows consumed her.
The icy waters were excruciatingly cold. It felt like she had fallen into a sea of broken glass. She managed to tear her eyes open and the salt burned them. Silver bubbles and foam whirled around her as she sank deeper. As the violent waves above forced her deeper into the dark, she slowly came to her senses.
Rachel began to kick her feet and thrash her arms, hoping she could reach the surface before she was forced to take water into her lungs. But, the crushing waves above kept forcing her deeper into the water, where vicious currents dragged her across the rocky floor and further out to sea.
Rachel’s lungs were burning and she knew the only thing to quench the inferno was oxygen. She could not make it to the surface, no matter how hard she fought. She began to tremble. This would be the end.
Let go. A beguiling voice chimed in her head.
Rachel opened her mouth, the sea rushing through her lips.
Let go.
Rachel sucked the water into her lungs. The salt water tore down her throat like needles. It settled into her lungs, replacing the vacant burning with a heavy fire. The pain was bewildering. With each agonizing breath she took, shadows began to creep in from the corner of her eyes. The darkness began to swell around her as she drifted deeper into the sea.
Rachel could do this. She could let go.
As the shadows began to devour her, she saw a disturbance at the surface of the sea. Something broke through the waves, dragging shimmering bubbles and foam down into the depths of the gnashing ocean.
It was a man. Rachel could see silver light glimmering across his shoulders, legs, and chest as he dove deeper into the darkness. Her vision grew murky as she watched the stranger approach. She slowly lost sight of him.
Let go.
Rachel stopped breathing, and darkness swept across her mind.
***
Wake!
Rachel knew she was no longer in the sea, but all noise was muted, as if she was still under water. She could sense a voice that was unmistakably clear, but she was unsure if the words were actually being spoken.
Wake, precious one. Wake up.
Slowly, Rachel began to realize where she was. Her mind was awake, but her body was still breaking away from sleep. The first thing she noticed was the pain and she was horrified. She knew that she was still alive, for she could not understand why death would be so painful. Her throat had been rendered raw from the icy salt water. Her flesh was in agony from the cold sea.
Rachel awakened, but darkness still lingered over her eyes. She could feel the softness of the sand beneath her. She could sense her wet clothes and hair upon her flesh. She could also feel that she was not alone.
A presence lingered over her, yet shadows still clung to her mind. She tried to speak, but her lips would not open. She tried to lift her arms, but her body would not move.
“This is no time to sleep, dear. Wake.” She was certain she heard a voice this time. The voice was of a man, strong and sweet. She trembled under the warmth of the words.
An angel?
Rachel felt like wax under the light of a flame, melting and consuming the heat with an insatiable appetite. The presence of the man was bright and it cast away the shadows of her thoughts. She could sense his hands upon her face, brushing away sand and salt. His touch was irresistibly warm.
She opened her eyes to what she thought was the sun. As her vision cleared of murkiness, she was no longer looking at sunlight, but upon the face of a man. Her rescuer.
For a moment, all she could see were his eyes. They were wide, bright, and glimmered like droplets of sweet dew on grass. As Rachel watched the man’s stare flicker over her, she knew what he was seeing. He could see into her, into her heart, mind, and soul. And she knew that he loved every inch of what he saw.
When she was able to look past the brightness, the entirety of his glorious face came into focus. She noticed his features; his sharp nose, tall brow, slender face, and powerful jaw line. Salt water dripped from his chin. His gracious lips were curled into a breathtaking smile.
Jesus.
Rachel forced herself upright, fighting against her weariness. She braced her hands upon the sand to keep herself from falling. Before her was the gray, eager sea. The sky was still dark and murky. Behind her, sand dunes and fields of tall grass led to the cliffs and rock beds that were a distance away from where she sat on the sand bar. Rachel turned her gaze back to her rescuer.
“You’re good at names.” He had read her mind. Jesus flashed a blinding grin.
Rachel wanted to speak, but fire seared her throat when she tried. Her breath came out ragged. Her hand clasped her neck.
“Don’t talk, dear.” He kept his eyes on her. Jesus was sitting so close to her that she could feel his breath upon her cheeks. He lifted his hands to her face. A glimmering pool of water was cupped in his palms. He brought his fingers to her lips and Rachel drank from his hands, clinging to his wrists with eagerness. The cool water slipped down her throat, killing the fire and soothing the rawness. The pain was gone.
Rachel breathed. “Better.” Jesus had lowered his hands into his lap, but she was still holding onto his wrists. She analyzed his hands, grazing them with her finger tips. It was then she saw the marks. Upon the smooth flesh, just below his palms, were jagged, rose colored scars. She lifted her eyes again to his face.
“I can’t believe it’s really you.” Rachel whispered. “Am I in a dream? Did I die?” She felt so silly asking these things. Looking upon his joyful face brought tears to her eyes.
Jesus chuckled. The gorgeous sound made Rachel’s heart soar. “No, Rachel. You are very much alive.”
Rachel studied Jesus. She could not believe how strong he was. Thick veins threaded his hands, wrists, and arms. He had the face of a superhero and the haircut of a marine. He was not wearing a shirt, and the sea spilled down his chest and back. On the left side of his body, above his hip, was a long rough scar where a spearhead had once struck him.
He was wearing khaki shorts that were wet with the ocean. His bare feet were dusted with sand and she saw the scars, like on his hands.
“You’re incredible.” Rachel spoke absentmindedly. She was in awe.
“Sweetheart, you’re quite charming yourself.” Jesus’ stare searched her and she knew he could read her. Rachel was an open book when it came to him. She trembled with rapture under his adoring gaze.
Jesus spoke again. “You’re cold.” It was not a question. Rachel nodded.
He hopped up from his crouch with childlike eagerness. He pulled Rachel to her feet with a quick jerk of his arm. “Then, let’s get out of these clothes.” Rachel’s knees quaked and Jesus held her until she was able to stand without aid. He carefully stepped away from her, his hands still reaching toward her in case she needed him.
“Are you alright?” Jesus’ whisper was softer than the mist from the sea.
Rachel nodded slowly. “I’m just a little shaken.”
Seemingly from thin air, Jesus handed her a bundle of clothing. She began to look through the items. Amongst the clothes was a pair of jean capris, a white t-shirt, a sweater, a bra, and underwear. She was hesitant to undress in front of Jesus.
While she had been looking through the clothes, Jesus had managed to lose his wet khaki shorts, and had slipped into a dry pair of boxer shorts. He was cramming his feet into an old pair of Levi’s blue jeans.
His eyes met hers. “Rachel, why are you waiting?”
She bit her lip and felt her face turn hot. Rachel was hoping he would just read her mind so she would not have to say it out loud.
Jesus nodded thoughtfully. A slight smile began to fold the corners of his lips. “Rachel, don’t be embarrassed. I’m God, not some stranger, dear.” He turned his back to her and put his hands on his hips, giving her privacy. She felt more comfortable when his gaze was not upon her.
Rachel quickly stripped and tossed her wet clothes aside. She hurriedly dressed, and was grateful for the comfort of warm, dry clothes. She smoothed the sweater over her stomach.
After she slipped into the jean capris, she walked over to Jesus. He was wearing a gray t-shirt and a dark blue hooded sweatshirt. His nearly black hair still glimmered with droplets of salt water. Rachel enjoyed seeing Jesus in street clothes.
“You look amazing, dear.” His lips curled into a magnificent grin. Rachel could feel her cheeks turn red. Her heart fluttered.
Jesus reached for Rachel’s hand and she took it. His strong fingers entwined in hers and they began to walk. The sand was cold under her bare feet, and the breeze sweeping in from the sea was icy. Rachel walked close to Jesus to capture some of the warmth radiating from him. She watched his steps as he walk beside her. His strides were graceful and he did not stumble once.
“Jesus, why are you here?” Rachel looked at him from the corner of her eyes as she walked. She tucked her hair behind her ear so she could see him clearly.
“I’m here to help you.”
“Are you here to take me?” Rachel asked curiously.
Jesus’ eyes narrowed. “Take you? To heaven?”
Rachel nodded.
Jesus shook his head.
She breathed. “Why not?”
Jesus shrugged and a funny grin stretched upon his face. “I’m not here to take you from the world. That day is a distant one.” He squeezed her hand in his.
They walked near the sea, and Rachel cringed against Jesus when the waves would reach up to her across the sand. She whimpered.
He wrapped a strong arm around Rachel. His face was inches from hers, his warmth comforting to her. She felt extremely thin within Jesus’ grip and stared into his bright eyes.
Jesus’ warm whisper swept against her skin. “You’re in good care.”
Rachel felt Jesus step away from her, but she wanted him close. She reached for him. He noticed her desperation and smiled. He brushed his fingers gently across her cheek and said, “For only a moment.”
Rachel asked curiously, while biting her thumb nail, “What are you doing?”
Jesus smiled. He was digging through the front pocket of his Levi’s. He pulled out a small orange bottle. “I’m going to resurrect you, dear.” He held out the bottle for her to take it. The veins in his hands throbbed, as if the item was as heavy as the world.
She took the bottle and stared at it. Wrapped around it was a white label with print. It was for a prescription. It was familiar to her, because it was the drug that suppressed her fears.
Lithium.
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Resurrect me?”
Jesus stood by, motionless. She could not believe how still he could be. He did not appear to be breathing. Even the veins in his arms were still, as if his pulse had gone.
“How does this thing fix that?” She shook the bottle in her fist. “And why do I need to be resurrected if you told me I’m alive?” She was uneasy and confused. Her nerves felt restless.
“You’re so fractious, Rach.” Jesus stepped closer to her and said, “You’re alive but you’re not living.”
“What do you mean?”
Jesus gripped Rachel’s shoulder. He looked at her straight in the face. His glorious eyes danced with an odd fire. “You need to let go, Rach.”
Rachel was bewildered. “Let go?”
“You need to let go of that.” He pointed to the bottle with a sharp finger. It seemingly cringed under his grazing touch.
She suddenly grew defensive and crushed the bottle against her breast. The tablets inside it rattled.
Jesus shook his head. “I want you to let go of your fear.” His breath lingered in the air. For a moment, all Rachel could hear were the beating waves of the ocean, the hiss of the sea foam upon the shore, and the whisper of the mist falling from the gray skies.
She looked at Jesus with heavy eyes. She knew what he was saying was true. What he said was always true.
Still clutching her shoulders with his hands, he brought her closer to him. “You need to fight your fear, Rach. You need to keep living, but not for this fear. For me.”
Rachel understood and realized that she had known this all along. She was not honoring God by living for her fear. She wanted to cherish life, and she knew the only way to do that was to let go.
“It’s your choice, Rachel.” Jesus’ eyes glimmered as they searched her face. He leaned forward and pressed his lips upon her forehead. Rachel shivered under his touch.
Jesus took the bottle from her hands, and she let him willingly. His eyes never left her face as he placed it into the pocket of her capris.
“Alright.” Rachel’s eyes fell from his. She felt as if the bottle in her pocket weighed ten pounds.
Jesus bit his lip and scratched his head. “Do you wanna go swimming?”
Rachel blinked. “What?”
“Swimming.” Jesus’ eyes were wide. He pulled off his sweatshirt and tossed it into the sand. His glorious face turned to her with a funny expression.
“Did you not just tell me to let go of my fear? And, not only did I just drown a few minutes ago, it’s still storming, and it’s freezing.” She felt like she was talking to a mad man.
Jesus was lifting up his shirt. “Look again.”
Rachel turned to her left to find an impossibly calm ocean. Her jaw dropped. The clouds were gone and the morning sun was clinging to the low proximities of the blue sky. The darkness and murkiness had been swept away, and everything glowed with golden sunlight. The chill of the storm lingered upon her skin until a much warmer breeze swept away the cold. Above her, a flock of pelicans were flying one hundred feet over the beach with grace. The dead world came alive. Within a blink of an eye, Jesus had changed nature.
“You underestimate me.” Jesus chuckled. Every muscle in his body flexed as he laughed; belly, face, neck, and arms. He was absolutely joyful.
“I can’t do it, Jesus.” The fear slowly crept back into her mind like shadows. An dull, aching pain spread through her chest like cold blood. She began to tremble.
“Rachel, you can’t live your life ankle deep in the ocean. You only live once.”
Rachel shook her head. She was suddenly dizzy, her legs felt as though they would buckle. Sweat beaded her forehead. “I… I can’t. You said it was my choice.”
The sea can’t get me. She reached for her pocket to retrieve the bottle of lithium.
Jesus grabbed her arm in a tight grip, stopping her. She turned to him, taking her eyes off the sea. “I’m allowed to make suggestions.” He said thoughtfully. “Rach, don’t let it control you. Why do you question my power?”
Jesus’ words fought back the phobia. All of her past fears of a killing sea were overpowered by the presence of Jesus. “You calmed the storm,” she said.
“I calm every storm.”
With him, she could do this. With him, she could do anything. Rachel quickly pulled off her sweater and tossed it to the beach. The warm breeze was refreshing upon her skin. She took in the air through her nose and it was sweet.
“You can do this, Rach.”
Let go.
Rachel took Jesus’ hand. His grip was strong.
Let go.
She ran to the sea the whole way. The waves rushed up onto shore, as if to meet her and Jesus. Jesus’ sprint was quick and powerful. His feet did not even appear to touch the sand as he skipped across the beach toward the ocean.
Let go.
Her feet hit the waves, spewing foam upon her clothes and skin. Salt and mist swept through her warping hair. She cringed as the cool water rushed around her. She felt Jesus’ grip tighten, sensing her unease. Jesus held her as they barreled into the waves.
The foam was sweeping around their hips and they fought against the current. The water splashed her face and she could taste the salt on her lips. Still clutching onto Jesus’ hand, she tried to calm her breathing. She squeezed her eyes shut.
They plunged into the sea and the waves rushed over her head.
Under the water, all was clear. The sea was not dark, but clear and blue. She could see the white sand beneath her, being tossed by the currents. The waves slowly carried her out further, cradling her.
Rachel was still holding Jesus’ hand. She felt like she might shatter his fingers in her grip. Beneath the waves, amongst the blue, she could still see his wide grin. He was laughing. Rachel could hear Jesus’ words in her mind, but they were still warm, as if they had been spoken.
You’re doing great, dear!
Jesus pointed ahead. A distance away, the silver scales of a school of fish glimmered beneath the waves. Though there were many of them, they moved as one body, whisking across the sand and through the currents. Rachel thought it was beautiful.
The waves rolled again and Rachel was tossed about. As the current pulled the two of them out, there was more room to move between the sand floor and the waves above. Soon, Rachel was able to stand on the bottom and still be completely submerged.
She did not want to go to the surface, but she needed to breathe. She tightened her grip around Jesus’ hand. He squeezed back. With wide eyes, she looked back at Jesus. His legs moved gracefully through the water as he tried to get close to her.
Just breathe.
Rachel opened her lips and took a slight breath, as if she were sampling the sea. The water went through her and into her lungs, but it was like oxygen. She was not drowning. The water soothed her lungs, as if it was fresh air. She grinned.
She pulled the water into her lungs and could not believe what she was doing. If she were not under water, she would be laughing.
Jesus sensed her joy and smiled. Even within the silent sea, she thought she could still hear him laughing. His face wrinkled with delight.
Rachel began to swim like a fish. She kicked her legs and she felt like she was flying. She was in the air with Jesus, flying in a blue universe that belonged to her and him and the fish. She tasted the salt on her tongue and saw the light breaking through the water’s surface. She felt as though she were in heaven.
Jesus appeared to be right at home. He was enjoying himself. His body moved as the sea, as if his arms and legs guided the waves to the shore. The water moved when he moved. It was a dance.
Her hair and clothes flowed in the currents of the sea and she felt weightless. As she laughed and breathed and danced beneath the waves, she realized this was the life she needed to live; a life with freedom and joy, a life with love and happiness. A life with Jesus.
She could be fearless.
Within moments, Rachel and Jesus toppled out of the waves onto the shore. They fell on their backs, into the wet sand and foam. The salt was still alive on their tongues. The sea still lingered in their hair and clothes. The light danced on their skin.
Rachel turned her gaze to Jesus, who was sprawled out in the sand, under the sun’s warmth. She turned to him with reaching hands, gathering him in her arms and they began to laugh while holding each other.
“I have something for you.” She whispered into Jesus’ ear. She dug through her front pocket and found the bottle of lithium.
Jesus sat up on his elbows. The sand clung to his back and shoulders. The sea dripped from his arms to his hands, like glittering veins. “Oh, really?”
She raised herself on her hands. Her blonde hair was tangled with the sea. It dripped down her back. Rachel looked at him with wide open eyes. “I want you to toss it out to sea.”
Jesus’ stare narrowed. His beautiful lips began to smile. “Are you sure?”
Rachel motioned toward the sea with a flail of her arm. She said, smiling. “Toss it. Get rid of it.” As Jesus sat up, sand fell from his body. His wet Levi’s barely clung to his narrow waist, like a child wearing a father’s clothes.
Rachel nodded eagerly. She slowly held out her hands for him to take the bottle.
Jesus took it.
She shook her head. She closed Jesus’ fist around the bottle with her fingers. “I don’t need this kind of a boundary in my life. I don’t want to have to rely on medicine. My life is in your hands now.”
His beautiful grin widened. “You always have been.”
“I’m ready. I love you.”
“I love you more,” Jesus winked. Still sitting in the sand, he raised the bottle in his hand. With a mighty whip of his arm, Jesus tossed the bottle one hundred feet out to sea.
I loved this so much, a great introduction.
Best line EVER!!!
