The sun was so low it cast no more shadows near the waves that lapped at the sand lazily, quietly. Rocks and seaweed near the edge settled in a soft darkness. Humid, salty air filled with a cold dampness and Ed knew the fog would probably start rolling in at some point soon, possibly obscuring his view of the billboard in the sky. He suddenly got that feeling he once had when he was young, very young, maybe eight years old. The feeling he could will something to happen, if he just thought of it happening hard enough.
He was looking out the kitchen window, towards the back yard. What had drawn his attention was his father's yells of "God damn it," and "We're infested."
As a young Ed looked, he saw his father walking with the hand-operated lawnmower. An ancient yard tool that he'd told Ed was passed on generation to generation. The roller of blades was rusted and dull, but still worked well enough to chop grass in jagged strips thirteen inches long. As his father pushed the mower, the family of frogs jumped ahead of it almost playfully. There seemed to be an extended family, dozens and dozens of them, but all of them a beautiful shiny green and muted brown, just like the grass. And Ed watched in horror and then numbness as his father ran over the frogs. Ed didn't close his eyes, as most kids might have, he stared in an attempt to save the frogs with his mind and willpower. First he stared at the last remaining frogs jumping in front of the mower, willing them to survive. But as his father moved the mower over two of them, Ed switched his gaze to his father...and willed his father dead. The last three frogs jumped and jumped, one of them got smart enough to jump to the side, but Ed's father just moved the mower over slightly, creating a small curve in the cut grass that would haunt Ed until the grass got cut again weeks and weeks later.
As his father finished up the task, he came inside the kitchen to get a tall glass of water. Looking over at Ed, and noticing the angry, questioning look on Ed's face, his father simply mumbled "That right there is the best way to fertilize a lawn." And then he belched and laughed a low laugh.
The tears on Ed's face were cold as the warmth of the fog drifting in from the ocean held Ed's face in its hands. The fog swirled around him, like a mower swerving to hit a frog, as all around Ed danced the remaining thoughts of jumping frogs, willpower, and hope.
Gazing up at where the billboard in the sky would be, Ed saw the fog was not completely blocking the moon, so there was hope he'd see the lighted letters.
"I will have to forgive my father for what he did." Ed thought as he waited for the ten minute therapy sessions that came each time the billboard in the sky blinked on. "I will have to forgive him for the frogs, and for me."
The night sky was drowning in blackness when the white inky lettering of the billboard in the sky lit up. Ed stared, his mouth open, his eyes squinting in confusion. New website adresses on the billboard sky sometimes took a moment to read.
THREETWOONE.COM
"The et wo on e... an R, whoops, ok, missed that, three, two, one. Three two one dot com," Ed said aloud. He wasn't sure when exactly he'd begun talking his thoughts aloud, but he knew it had been a while because his throat no longer stung when he spoke. He remembered it stung a few times when the ten minute billboard sky therapy sessions had first started happening.
"A countdown. A music site, three, two, one, begin song. A site about," Ed pondered, "space flight. Manned mars missions. Moon trips."
THREETWOONE.COM said nothing in reply, but Ed stared a friendly stare at the lights of each letter, and then he began to speak.
"I have never loved my father. I wanted to, I believe, at one time when I was very young. But I think it became apparent he was not capable of love before I even turned two years old. I think because of that I gave up on wanting the impossible."
Three ducks, at that moment, flew over head in a line with one in front and two lower down on either side. "QuatquatQuat," they each acknowledged Ed's presence on the beach. "It's quack!" Ed shouted up at them, throwing his hands over his head in exaggerated command.
THREETWOONE.COM glowed brightly above the ducks, as if beckoning Ed's eyes and mind back to the discussion.
"And although I'd resigned myself to this fate of being raised by a loveless father figure, I believe I should somehow find it in me to let the anger, disappointment and pity for myself go. I mean, really let it go. Not because he did not deserve to have my anger, my disappointment and my occasional death thoughts upon him, but because I did not deserve to feel that way. I could have been feeling a multitude of other ways. The way he left me feeling, the way I allowed him to continue making me feel long after I left the house. I did not deserve that for myself. I don't know why I didn't see this before. I allowed myself to sometimes feel nothing towards him, and gave what was his to the world. To myself."
The night sky suddenly had less light, in the blink of an eye it takes for a billboard sign to disappear as it shuts off. And then, just as quickly as the billboard in the sky shut off, another light appeared. Lower on the horizon. On the water. A boat light that seemed to be headed directly for the island.
Ed stood up and put his hand to his forehead to wipe a ocean-wind blown strand of hair from his eyes. His feet sunk deep into the sand as his toes stretched to lift himself up as high as he could go to see what he could of the boat the light was coming from.
Then, without explanation, the light started going to the right instead of getting brighter as it headed straight towards the spot on the beach Ed stood. His heart pounding, his mind racing, and his blood flowing quickly to the point he could feel the liquid of it through his veins in swelled gushes and pulsating frenzy, he started to yell at the top of his lungs.
"HERE HERE HERE HERE HERE!"
Finally finding the strength to lift his arms above his head, he did a dance he'd once seen in a car commercial as a little kid, watching old cartoons on the computer.
"HERE HERE HERE HERE! HERE I AM! I AM HERE! HERE!" Ed yelled as the large light went out and smaller lights on the boat became visible. Further and further away it went, oblivious. Ed felt the anger he'd felt when he'd come to the conclusion his father would never be the kind of father he should be. That feeling you get when love and rescue are circling your circumfrence, you see it all around you, yet... there it goes. Not for you. Not for you. Should have, but no. So close, almost. But, no.
"HERE!" Ed yelled. That last gasp of hope you get even when you already know the final outcome. "HERE HERE!"
The little boat lights were somewhat blending in with the tiny reflections on the wave tops, created from the glow of the tiny sliver of moon above.
The night had passed so emotionally violent and quickly, Ed hadn't even noticed he'd not slept at all as the first signs of the sun began in the east. Cold blue seeped into the black of the sky, as if somebody had spilled an ink jar along the flat table of the horizon.
Ocean clouds formed and swelled, floating by in idiotic complacency. Ed hated those clouds. He just hated them. He wished for wind to rip them apart, or for dry air to swallow them whole. Instead, they just did as they wanted to do, as they had done for years and would continue to do for years to come. Ed felt hopeless in his hate.
Sunrise never came easily. The shark-bite of that first glare jutting through the sky like a sword, cutting Ed's pupils into the tiniest of pieces. The shine of the sun made him feel so alone. It reminded him that night was over, that the billboard in the sky was shut off, no longer above him glowing with hope in ten minute intervals. If he could have, he would have spent a lifetime on the island building a machine to destroy the sun. Anything to get rid of the sense of nothing it brought with it each time it lit up everything to reveal how bleak it all was in every corner and shadow.
He was looking to his right to scowl at the morning when he saw it. That damn boat. It had to be the same boat from last night that drew so close to torment him with belief only to speed away out of reach of his eyes and his desire to be rescued. That damn, damn boat. There it was. Ed stared at it and scowled at both the dawn and the boat. Together there on the horizon, the boat steadily bobbing, so close a bob could be seen. The sun rising behind it, with a bob of its own. They looked so gentle there together, the boat and the sun. As if neither of them could ever hurt somebody. "HA!" Ed chuckled with a knowing glance and an uplifted clenched hand. He shook his fist as his tears fell on the sand. "I KNOW BETTER," he said low and deep.