short story

Three humpback whales lay on their sides like glittering trophies, slick with seaweed and sea scurf. Blood seeped into the damp sand. Sharp objects protruded from their smooth bellies, like the blade of a rudder or a fishing wire. The air smelt as it always did, of salt and fish, but this time rotting carcass flooded Alicia’s nostrils. She knelt beneath the whales, silent and tense, her hands digging into the saturated sand. She let the blood dry on her fingers. Seven turtles also lay nestled under the mangled whales’ flippers, protected like a child in their mother’s arms in their eternal sleep. Their heads sagged under the plastic bags that had strangled them and bottle rings spilled from their mouths.
     A small voice rocked back and forth on the frantic wind. More voices joined it, squashing against each other in urgency alongside the endless clicks and claps and dissonant scrapes of the camera crews. Photographers from every media company lined the beachfront, camera shutters and scribbling pens working rapidly to document the “most tragic natural catastrophe ever seen”.
     Alicia stood up and picked her way across the pebbles towards Gareth, who didn’t look away from the carnage as she approached.
      “My condolences, Doctor Green.” He was squinting at the marine conservationists and fisherman on the beach, who were attempting to assess the damage. Gareth took out a notebook and began scribbling shorthand. Alicia drew in a breath and crossed her arms across her chest. She coughed, paused, and tried to keep her voice level.
      “Your first ‘big scoop’ then?” Alicia said, her mouth in a grim line.
      “Yep. This’ll be my shining moment.”
      “This is a nature crisis you know,” she snapped.
      “I know. There’s no need to get emotional.” He eyed her and wrote down another note. “Seems like you’ve finally cracked under all this pressure, eh?”
      “If anything’s got me cracked, it’s you sticking your nose in everywhere.”
     He shrugged. “I’m not just a pretty face. This nose has led me towards some juicy headline material.”
     Alicia gritted her teeth and looked away. She couldn’t stand journalists. At least, not Gareth Davies, local reporter of Arrowsmouth. He took his little notebook everywhere, always ready to dramatize the scene but never to empathise with it. Alicia snatched the leather-bound book from his hand.
      “And what about these whales?” She said, turning pages with slow precision, “What does this story mean to you, exactly?”
      “I love the whales as much as you do.” He paused, then added, “Someone has to write it.”
      “Are you kidding me?” She flipped the book shut. “Here. You can have this back.” Alicia tossed the book into his chest. He pocketed it and looked at the whales, and then at her.
      “I’m just here to do my job.”
     Alicia walked away, muttering under her breath. The sun began to drop onto the horizon. Purple swirled through the sky and a pink glow illuminated the long curve of the whales’ bodies. All the other journalists stood far from the scene, some of them wiping tears or sand from their eyes – she wasn’t sure which.
     One journalist shouted after her: “Miss Green, do you have a moment to discuss the repercussions of sea pollution?”
      “It’s Doctor Green,” she said, fixing her eyes on the ground, “and my team are doing all they can to prevent similar scenes like this across all shorelines in Britain.”
      “What measures are you taking to protect sea life? Is what the organisations say true? Are the turtles going extinct?”
      “I don’t wish to discuss it at this time. Thank you.” A layer of sea shells crunched underneath her feet. Gorse bushes crept over the sand dunes as she distanced herself from the scene. A small inlet appeared amongst the dunes, sheltered from the wind. It had always been her favourite spot. Alicia sat down and let herself breathe again. She turned her head away from the beach to look at Arrowsmouth behind her. Beyond the roads and the trees, the shadowy town beckoned her with twinkling fingers of light, stretching through windows as the sky darkened. From where she sat, she could see her childhood home on the crest of the hill, no light emanating from it. She imagined the walls bulging, the rooms writhing with cobwebs and memories, the happiest of those memories being shared with her best friend. She looked up at the pea sized moon and thought of him. Too much time had passed since she’d last stepped on this beach, in this very spot. For the first time in years, she allowed herself to remember his death.

Up until her 12th birthday, Alicia’s life was a colour palette. Every morning she watched the sea from her bedroom window, splashes of ultramarine and teal stretching two miles across, splashing up against a burnt orange cliff to the left and fading away to the right. Further up the hills, untamed pines glistening with sea spray nestled between rocks. She loved everything about nature – especially the ocean – and had a wall mural and a personal library to prove it. Books tumbled and burst from her laden shelves, rows of which contained encyclopaedias and nature magazines. When she wasn’t reading, she was with Ben. While her mother wasn’t looking, they would steal cakes and take them up to her room. They would paint the walls with monsters and daisies that twirled around the skirting boards and then stretched outside around the ice white mottled walls. Whenever her mum found the crumbs and paint drops scattered around the house, she would drag Alicia and Ben by the ear, send them landing on their behinds onto the garden path and yell: “Go play on the beach like a normal pair of kids!”
     Ben would dust himself off and pick up his bike. “Race ya?”
      “You won’t win.” Alicia would say, picking up her bike too.
     And every single day of their summer holiday had played out like that – paint, laughter and the wind massaging their faces as they pedalled downhill.

Alicia’s skin dried out under the sun and the blood on her fingers cracked and crumbled. She let the sun pull at her bones and stood up, squinting at the mellowed sea. The back of her head throbbed, and she knew she would have to sit down again.
      “Alicia!”
     She turned. Gareth waved to her from the dunes above her.
      “We wondered where you’d got to!” He lost footing and slid down a dune, gripping a flask that sloshed as his boots threw dry sand in all directions. “Coffee?”
      “Please leave me alone.”
      “Just ten minutes.” He shook the coffee towards her face. She sighed.
      “Promise?”
      “I promise. Then I’ll leave you alone.”
     She watched him struggle with the flask as he fished out his notebook and his phone. With his hands full, he squatted in the alcove, flattened the sand and spread his items out in front of him.
      “Sit,” he said, patting the ground and finally managing to seat himself with his legs stretched out. “Looks like a good place to remain undisturbed.”
      “You have no idea,” She said, sitting.
      “Oh, have I stumbled upon your hiding spot? Apologies.”
      “You really have no idea, do you?”
      “Sorry, you’ll have to fill me in, Doctor Green.”
      “This place… Ben Mortimer? Please tell me you remember.”
      “Oh…”
      “Fourteen years ago, I watched my best friend die.” Alicia twisted her body round and pointed to the road directly behind the dunes. She pointed diagonally, towards the carriageway junction. “That’s where he – where he was –” She swallowed.
      “Ben Mortimer? The turtle rescue. I remember.” Gareth put his hand on Alicia’s arm. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” His jaw clicked as he chewed on his words, jotting something in the open notebook not quite out of Alicia’s eyeline. “Can we – do you want to discuss it?”
      Alicia leant over and tore the page off. “Did your parents teach you to be this obtuse? I don’t want to discuss it with anyone. I’m here to talk about the whales.”
      “Come on, Alicia. You know this place better than any other person on this beach. You have profound connections to the sea that could make this column a three-page spread.”
      “You mean… you want to use me as an emotional hook for your audience.”
      “Hook, line and sinker.”
      “So, you want use my childhood trauma to get you a promotion.” Alicia shook her head. “No thank you.”
      “No… that’s not what I want. I want – I want you to tell me whatever you want to tell me. Impart your wisdom. Share your professional opinion.” Gareth stood up then, gathering up his items. “Don’t you see what you’ve uncovered? A link from the past to the future. All those lives lost for the sake of one. That turtle your friend rescued could be out there now. Or it could be dead, amongst those whales. Don’t you see? You and Ben had so much passion for the life of one tiny turtle. Once the rest of the world remembers this, they’ll want to do something about them being killed. I’m trying to help you.” Gareth turned up his collar and walked away. He climbed over the dunes and shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll be in the café. When you’re ready for an interview, I’ll be waiting.”

Ben and Alicia’s common ground had always been nature. Every day after school they would always cycle to the cliffs, the meadows, or the beach. They’d stay until the sun passed through the stooped branches, until they’d coalesced with the ground and the bark and the stones around them. That final summer holiday together was when they began to fight for their precious world. A bypass was built that cut through the meadows, so they stayed on the beach. Then piece by piece, plastic began washing ashore and deposited along the slope of the bay. Every day, they cycled down to that beach to pick up the water-logged bottles and nets, and every day there was an animal to be saved. Usually, it was a fish or a crab trapped down there. But then, Ben found the baby turtle - in the wrong place, at the wrong time – and had to make a decision that would end up killing him.

As the night drew in, Alicia and the rest of the marine life team packed up the last of their equipment. They had hoisted the whales away from the beach and buried them in the disused quarries, now overgrown and perfect for hiding the huge carcasses. It didn’t get rid of the stench, though. The oily, fleshy smell permeated through Alicia’s clothes, and the back of her throat and nostrils ached. A fisherman handed her a sandwich and a cup of water, which she didn’t touch. She knew that Gareth was probably still waiting for her, hoping she’d cave in. There’s was nothing left for her to do, so why not?
     Gareth quickly wiped away the coffee dribbling down his mouth as she entered the café. He stood up and hurried to pull out her chair.
      “I didn’t think you’d come. Coffee?”
      “Please.”
     When he returned with two fresh mugs, she leant towards him. “So?”
     He pressed the mug into her hands, and eyed her sandwich. “You eating that?”
      “No.”
     He unwrapped the sandwich, engulfed the whole thing in two bites and polished off his fingers. “Godth, iths bin a lonn day,” he uttered, through a mouthful of bread.
      “You should try my job,” Alicia replied, resting her head on her free hand.
      “No, trust me, it’s been awful.” Gareth leant forwards. “I’ve learnt so much more about ocean life in between the space of having two meals, six coffees and three toilet breaks than I have in my whole life.”
      “That’s a good thing.”
      “None of it was good. I found out that when a whale dies it sinks to the bottom of the ocean and gets scavenged and ripped bare by smaller creatures.” Gareth shuddered and stared at his coffee. “Intense.”
      Alicia raised an eyebrow. “I imagine you were traumatised when you went on that beach, then. It doesn’t get any uglier than that.”
      “Oh, I was. I couldn’t stay out there for long.”
      “Really? Didn’t think it would affect someone like you.”
      “Well, you were wrong in the end.” Gareth rubbed his eyes and stared out of the window. Beyond the large pane of glass was blackness. “That’s why I came to find you, I suppose. Everything looks a lot less terrible when you’re far away from it.”
      Alicia looked out at the blackness too. They listened to the soft murmur of the radio underneath the clattering and hissing coming from the kitchen.
      “That’s not true,” Alicia whispered.
      “What?”
      “That things don’t look as bad from far away.” They turned to face each other again. Alicia clutched her mug of coffee to her chest. “Fourteen years ago, it happened, and it still hurts.”
      “Of course.”
      “He was my best friend.”
      “I know.” Gareth sighed, rubbing Alicia’s hand. “Look, forget about this- this whole interview thing.”
     Alicia shook her head and pulled her hand away. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll talk.” She sipped her tea and sat up.
      “You’re totally sure you want to do this?” Gareth’s voice was hesitant, but his hand already hovered at his jacket pocket.
      “I need to air it out. He deserves to be remembered.”

The end of August was approaching. Ben had knocked on Alicia’s door every day, jumping up and down about the next animal he’d found and was itching to save. When he found the turtle, he pedalled all the way through Arrowmouth to tell Alicia. Although the turtle might have run away as he did so, this was something he wanted to share with Alicia. She fled from the dinner table, leaving her pie to go cold and grabbed her bike. They tore down alleys and footpaths. Ambling country folk quickly parted and flattened themselves against the wall to let them pass. Around the next corner, a group of tourists stood with their backs turned. Alicia twisted her bike violently to the right and onto the high street as an approaching car screeched to a stop and the driver blasted its horn. Ben caught up and cycled across the road too, mouthing an apology to the driver. He called after Alicia.
      “Look where you’re going - you could have died!”
      “Forget about it. Come on, we’re nearly there.”
     They cycled downhill through town, carefully this time and sticking to the cycle paths. As they approached the beachfront, they jumped off to wheel the bikes to a shelter. Once they had locked them in place, Ben grabbed Alicia’s hand.
      “What are you doing?” Alicia asked. Ben had a mysterious look on his face as he dragged her along. “Where are we going?” She pressed, not wanting to sound too pissed off as he almost tugged her arm off from his eagerness. He glanced at her shyly.
      “Let’s explore the dunes first.”
      “Why would we do that?”
      “I want to show you something.”
      “Ben, you’re being weird!” Once they’d trudged over the dunes Ben guided her to an alcove and sat down, patting the ground beside him.
      “Ben, I think I should warn you – I don’t like you in that way.”
      “Don’t be stupid, I don’t fancy you!” He blushed nevertheless. “I wanna show you something.”
      “Alright well what is it, then?”
      “Sit here and stay quiet.”
     She did. They waited for half a minute. Through the gorse bushes, a little turtle head popped out.
      “Woah!” Alicia exclaimed, shuffling back and kicking up sand.
      “Sshh, keep still.” Ben placed his hand out flat. “Come on out, buddy.” Another minute passed. The turtle still hid in the bush, pawing the gap that led down to Alicia and Ben.
      “How did you…?”
      “Was down here this morning. While I was having a rest, this little fellow came to say hi.” As if the turtle had understood, it shuffled out and trod across the alcove towards Ben and Alicia, examining them with its gentle eyes, then looked away with disinterest and nibbled at a small straw-like tuft next to Alicia’s foot.
      “It’s tiny!” She exclaimed.
      “It’s a baby.” Ben added. “Mother turtles lay their eggs on land.”
      “I know,” Alicia said, rolling her eyes.
      “So, why’s it here all on its own? Ben asked.
      “Probably got left behind.”
      “Aww.” Ben plucked it off the ground, one finger curled around its delicate belly and his thumb grazing its shell. On closer inspection, this was a very unusual looking creature. The edges of each hexagonal plate were a bright orange and the rest merged into dark brown towards a pear-green centre. One plate in the middle was bright orange with a thick brown border.
      “It’s beautiful,” Ben said.
      “We should probably put it back in the ocean.” Alicia glanced up and saw three girls appear over the top of the dune, sneering and laughing at them. Alicia saw Ben freeze and clutch the turtle tighter.
      “What’s goin’ on ‘ere then?” One of the girls said, rolling a piece of chewed gum between her fingers and flicking it at Ben. He flinched. “’aving a lovey-dovey date?”
      “No, nothing like that.” Alicia said, “We found this-.”
      “Don’t tell them!” Ben tucked the turtle in his lap and out of sight.
      “What? What’ve you got?” The girl jumped down and skidded along the loose sand, putting her hand out to Ben. “Show me.”
      “It’s nothing. Just a toy.” At that moment the turtle wriggled out of his lap and clambered over his legs.
      “A turtle! ‘Ere, look girls, they’re ‘avin an animal date.”
      “It’s not a date!” Ben’s face turned bright red. “Stop saying that.”
      “She’s just trying to wind you up.” Alicia said. Ben stood up and backed onto the flatter part of the beach.
      “Come on Alicia, let’s put it back-”
      “Can I have a look?” The girl said.
      “No,” Alicia said, “This turtle is a baby and needs to find its mother.”
      “Oh yeah? Come on then, nerd, tell me another fact. I’m fascinated.”
      “Don’t call her that,” Ben said, walking towards the girl. That was his mistake. Once he was within a metre’s reach, she leant forward and snatched the turtle.
      “Cute.” The girl sniffed and turned it upside down, sneering at Ben as she noticed his eyes widen. Ben’s legs jolted in preparation to take it back, but Alicia put a hand on his arm and shook her head. “Can I keep it?”
      “Of course not!”
      “Thanks,” she said, turning and walking up the beach with her posse. Ben instantly rushed after her. The girl and her friends picked up speed until they were across the dunes and heading towards the dual carriageway.
      “Don’t, Ben!” Alicia called, catching up. “It’s dangerous up there.”
     Cars whizzed by at full force along the road, the tires a blur and barely appearing to touch the ground. The girl danced on the edge of the road, dangling the turtle over the white line with a vile expression of satisfaction spreading across her face.
      “Come and get it.”
      “Don’t kill it, please,” Ben begged, his voice thickening. A sickly cough pushed out of his throat that faltered and became a shrill sob.
     This was all the encouragement the girl needed – she flicked her wrist and the turtle landed in the middle of the closest lane, upside down. It rocked back and forth with its legs flailing. Ben edged across the road.
      “No Ben!” Alicia cried out. A car horn blasted in their ears and the passing Land rover blew him back to the roadside. Alicia grasped his arm and slapped him lightly. “You idiot! You could have been killed.”
      “I have to save it.” Ben broke away and tried again. As soon as the road cleared he ran across. On the roadside, Alicia put her hands on her head and bit her lip while the group of girls just smirked. Ben edged further and further out, eventually bending to grab the turtle.
      “Ben, look out!” A Land Rover hurtled towards Ben. The driver’s eyes widened as she saw him stand up straight at the last minute. She slammed the brakes on, letting the car shudder metres forward as it struggled to stop.
      “BEN!”
     It was too late. Ben lay on the floor, broken and bruised with the turtle still wriggling in his hands.

Alicia brushed away tears as she watched Gareth write down the end of her story. “My twelfth birthday was a week after that happened. I didn’t celebrate. I couldn’t.” After a few seconds passed, Alicia excused herself, stood outside and let the wind dry her eyes. Gareth followed her out.
      “Thank you,” he said, “I’ll pay tribute to him. Make sure he gets the recognition he deserved.” Alicia nodded, treading towards the seafront. “Thank you so much.”
     Alone, Alicia made her way back to the spot belonging to her and Ben. The beach was shrouded in deep blue and tiny flecks of moonlight. She looked up towards the quarries in the hills, where the graveyard of whales lay. Each mound of dirt was marked with tall pine trees as their headstones. The turtles were buried amongst them.
     She heard a scuffle from behind her. Alicia searched for the sound and saw a turtle head emerge from the nearby grass tuft. It crawled into the clearing and chewed happily on the piece of seaweed to its left.
      “Hey buddy. What are you doing up here?” She smiled. She carefully checked for tags on his legs. There were none. But, there was something else. Something she recognised. A bright orange mark in the centre of its shell with a brown border. Alicia lowered to the ground and shakily extended one hand, waiting for it to come closer. Eventually the turtle shuffled closer, turning its head and studying her. Alicia smiled. The warmth of a hand ghosted over her arm, a phantom sensation that mixed with the gravestone-cold wind enveloping her.
      “Ben”, she whispered.