The Haunting of Shandy Bay Part VI
My name is Sunny Alexander. And I’m Henry James and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Conclusion
It’s totally amazing how something as simple as water can be so extremely terrifying. We bathe in it, drink it and even swim it. We water our lawns and plants with it.
But here’s the thing about a human and water. Until someone invents a practical way to breath it a human will drown in it.
We should know. It’s about to happen to us.
The water in the cave was shallow enough for the four men to stand on the sandy bottom and cuff both of us to a pylon. Surprisingly the water wasn’t as cold as we expected, which didn’t matter a damned bit. The fact the waves were lapping just below the chest of one of us and the shoulders of the other was the bigger issue.
The other big issue manifested itself when both us were plunged into complete darkness and left alone to die.
“I gotta get out. I gotta…get out. I…can’t…breathe. Oh God…my heart…is, my heart is going…to explode. Henry…I can’t breathe. The walls Henry. They’re closing in…”
“Sunny…”
“Oh my God Henry. I’m having a heart attack. I can’t…I can’t…”
“Sunny will you shut the fuck up for a minute and let me think?”
It was so pitch dark in that cave. The only thing you could see was coal black sheets of nothingness in front of your face. Every now and then incoming waves would press us back against the pylons then pull us away as the water ebbed and flowed.
“I can’t breathe Henry. I think I’m going to…going to pass out.”
“Listen to me. You do that and you’re dead. Your legs are the only thing keeping your head above water. You go down and there’s no chance in hell you’re going to survive. Do you understand?”
“My chest…”
“Goddammit Sunny. I said do you fucking understand?”
“Yes…yes, I understand.”
“Okay where is the water level on you right now?”
“My neckline.”
“Shit, the water’s at mid-chest on me. You’re what about a foot shorter than me?”
“In heels or flats?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake. Barefoot child. How tall are you barefooted?
“Five four give or take.”
“Sunny we don’t have time for give and take. I read somewhere high tide happens every six hours and I have no freaking clue how long we’ve been in this cave.”
“What time is it?”
“How the fuck should I know? My wrists are cuffed behind my back same as yours. Not like I can take a gander at my watch.”
“Henry, I can’t breathe.”
“Dammit Sunny, you’re breathing well enough to talk to me aren’t you?”
“Yes. Henry I don’t want to die like this. Oh dear God, not like this.”
“I know, but I ain’t ready to give up on this yet. There’s got to be a way. Think Sunny. Use that brain of yours.”
For a minute neither of us spoke. The sound of the waves lapping against the cave walls in another life, another situation, would have provided a sense of peaceful tranquility. Unfortunately the sound did nothing but heighten the anxiety vibrating inside us like guitar strings thrashed during a heavy metal song.
“Sunny where’s the water now?”
“The middle of my neck.”
“Damn, it’s rising quicker than I thought. Listen, I don’t know how to get us out of here. Right now I’m dumber than a post. I’m sorry, I just don’t…”
“Henry, that’s it.”
“What, that I’m dumber than a post and we’re both going to die? You’re congratulating me for that?”
“No you idiot. These pylons are made of wood.”
“Yeah and?”
“Remember the boardwalk? They had to replace some of the boards? Why do you suppose they had to do that Henry?”
“Shit, because of the water and weather. The wood rotted out.”
“Right.”
“Okay I’ve got an idea. Can you circle around your pylon so you face the back of the cave?”
“Hang on…Yes, can you?”
“Tough as hell to move my feet. Damned boots are filled with water. It’s like both of them are in cement.”
“Can you get them off?”
“These are two hundred and fifty dollar boots. I ain’t about to leave them at the bottom of this bay.”
“Fine old man, suit yourself. I guess when they come back in three weeks they’ll get to see a real skeleton who died with his boots on.”
“Okay hang the fuck on.”
“Henry, the water’s just beneath my chin. We’ve got to do something quick.”
“Okay, okay. Pull one leg up and see if you can reach the edge of the slip.”
“…Sunny. Can you reach the edge of the slip?”
“No.”
“Shit, let me try.”
“Henry, I’m not going to make it. Another inch or two and I’m under.”
“Henry…?”
“…Henry?!”
“I got you Sunny. Let me raise you up a bit.”
“Oh thank God! What the hell happened?”
“You were right. I pushed against the slip and kept pushing. Finally the damn pylon broke free. Interesting thing about that though. You ever seen what happens to a floating piece of wood with a two hundred and twenty two pound man attached it?”
“Unless you haven’t noticed old man. I’m still attached to this damned post.”
“Okay move to the side a bit. Let me see if I can break it free.”
Unfortunately for the both of us the pylon held fast.
“Shit, what now Henry? Please don’t leave me here to die. Please get me out of here.”
“Shaundrika, I’m not going to leave you. Okay, there’s no way I’m going to be able to pull you up far enough for you to get your arms free so I’m going to have to push you up.”
“What the hell are you saying?”
“I’m going to go under. You raise your legs and put your feet on my shoulders then I’m going to stand up.”
“Will that work?”
“Like I’ve ever tried this before?”
“Hurry Henry.”
“Okay, I’m going on three. One, two…and…three.”
Sometimes even geniuses have to try things a couple of times before they get it right. As dire as the situation was for some reason we both broke into fits of howling laughter at the aborted first attempt.
“Goddammit Sunny. I said my shoulders, not the top of my head.”
“It’s not like I can see under the water genius. You ever thought of guiding my feet into place?”
“Radical concept. Okay on three. One, two…and three.”
Seconds later we were on the deck of the boat slip, gasping for air, glad to be alive and realizing just how close to death we’d come. It’s not every day one gets a noose around one’s neck only to discover the trap door doesn’t work. If there had been a place close by to purchase a lottery ticket we both would have bought one.
But our escape from death by drowning still didn’t get us out of the cave.
Somehow, we needed to make it across the boardwalk, up the cut and back to Sunny’s car.
The Spanish man we both assumed was the infamous Enrique, didn’t strike us as being the kind of man to take a lot of chances.
We guessed he would leave at least one, maybe two, henchmen somewhere along the way to ensure the people he wanted dead, stayed that way.
READ ON THE HAUNTING OF SHANDY BAY CONCLUSION
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