*Author's Note: So, I randomly had an idea about this story about two months ago or so. And that's exactly how long it took me to write it because I struggled to get it right and make it exactly the way I wanted it to look and feel.
But here it is and I hope you like it!
In the meantime, between posting my last work and this one, I read some really awesome books like Dandelion Wine and Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, The Call of Cthulhu and other stories by H.P. Lovecraft, Ten Little Indians and The Murder of Roger Ackroyd by Agatha Christie; and Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte - really recommend those if anyone is interested (though the Call of Cthulhu might be a bit questionable in my opinion, but it's the classic of horror genre, so due to that fact alone is worth reading I suppose - that's why I read it anyway).*
WHAT IF?
Gentle waves of the Gulf crashed lazily against the shore. The warm waters washed over Nate's bare feet, steadily pulling sand from under them with each ebb of the surf.
Nate was fourteen and it was the middle of fall – the time of year when cold snaps already took hold of much of the country – or at least the parts where Nate and Sam typically resided the most if they were not overseas on some shady job.
And then there was winter…
Winter was extremely inconvenient since, the Drake brothers often had to spend the nights in their beat-up old wreck-of-a-car as their only shelter, considering how unstable their living situation was and how unreliable was their income. While as long as it was warm outside, it wasn't much of a problem, but as soon as temperatures dropped and blankets became no longer adequate enough protection from the cold – they always headed South.
Miami was where they would stop – with plenty of warm sunshine and low risk of hurricanes during winter months, it was an ideal place for two young snowbirds. The city was big, it was crowded and full of life. And it was rich, which granted plenty of opportunity for them to make some money. There was a widening network of "connections" they began to acquire there. Mostly Sam, since Nate was still "a kid" not worth being taken into serious consideration, albeit a rather slick one and surprisingly skilled in the subtle art of minor scamming and pickpocketing.
Another year. Another migration. No rest for the wicked.
They crossed the Florida border late last night and decided to take a small break before the long drive down Panhandle that would take them further South. And so they stopped at a cheap motel and upon waking up, discovered the motel was but twenty minutes away from the beach!
They sat there, side by side, soaking in the sunshine of that warm day, enjoying the rare calm in their otherwise chaotic life, looking out into the ocean that seemed to stretch as far as the horizon itself and beyond. Nearing the shallows, the tranquil blue waters turned turquoise, coming into stark contrast with the sand that was almost as white as snow and formed sprawling dunes with random patches of sea grass swaying gently in the breeze.
Nate's fingers absent-mindedly played with a sand dollar he found earlier that day – smooth and round, polished by tide, almost as big as the palm of his hand and (most surprisingly) fully intact. Sam always joked at how Nate managed to pick up random treasures like that anywhere he went – Lady Luck must have followed him in his footsteps!
Nate wiggled his toes, observing their movement and letting tiny pieces of broken shell escape and get trapped within a swirling murky cloud of sediment before the bubbly froth covered everything up again.
His interest was completely feigned.
His genuine interest lay in the conversation between a man and a woman seemingly in their early thirties - their beach neighbors. The couple lay on reclined beach chairs under a striped umbrella and chatted casually about this and that and the other.
Nate had been observing them for a while, curious at the phenomenon that they were – a perfectly normal family with a father, a mother and three happy kids. The mother, a petite blond woman, lay relaxed with her eyes closed and an expression of serene contentment on her esthetically pleasing face. The father, a bulky tall bear-of-a-man, lay propped up and his eyes watched over the kids vigilantly even as he never lost thread of the conversation.
Three kids played before them. A blond boy, around ten years old, splashed in the water, trying to ride his surfboard – unsuccessfully so, since the waves were too low, but, to his credit, he did not give up trying. A dark-haired little girl, fresh out of toddlerhood, was building sandcastles for her Barbies. The third kid – a blond girl of seemingly seven years old or so – stalked birds with caution of an inexperienced housecat, with a finger of her right hand at the ready to hit the button of the little camera she held in front of her face.
"I can't believe this is where she decided to spend her birthday at," the woman mused without opening her eyes and her voice betrayed a slight accent, "With all the options she was presented with, even a trip to Disneyworld!"
"Well, beach is her happy place," the man responded as his gaze shifted to an older girl and he smiled, "Besides, she knows Disneyworld is exactly where her sister will want to go for her birthday in a couple of months, so she'll get that anyway, might as well pick the beach," he chuckled.
"You know," the woman said with a coy glance, "Something is telling me the reason why she picked the beach is because she knows you're exhausted after coming back from deployment and the last thing you want to do is travel down to Disneyworld right now. She's such a daddy's girl."
The man didn't say anything, he only grunted vaguely, but with evident pride and it was clear to see his wife stroke the right cord as the older daughter appeared to be the apple of his eye.
As they talked, the younger girl suddenly screamed in frustration as one of the towers she had been working on decided to collapse. She stood up and began kicking the sandcastle with her little feet, throwing wet sand into every direction as she whined away and then squealed in horror when her Barbie slipped from out of her hand and landed several feet away in the water and began floating away, "No! Not Ariel, no!"
The mother sighed and moved to get up from her seat to tend to the little girl, but her husband stopped her with a gentle push on her shoulder.
"Relax, baby, you've got your hands full with all three of them at the same time while I'm deployed, let me take care of it this time."
The woman smiled softly, leaned in for a quick kiss and stretched back out on her sunbed, while the man walked over to their younger daughter, rescued the doll from sailing away into uncharted lands and sat down on the sand to help her rebuild the castle.
What a curious little phenomenon.
Nate tore his gaze off the happy family and stared out into the distance, deep in his thoughts. The seagulls played over the water, their trills bounced off the waves as they dived down, hunting for fish. Nate shuffled on the sand uneasily before he turned to look at his brother.
"Do you think maybe if Dad was supportive like that…" his gaze momentarily switched to the father and daughter building a sandcastle nearby before he hesitantly continued, "then maybe Mom wouldn't do what she did? Maybe she wouldn't…you know," he finished his thought awkwardly.
He couldn't say it. Sometimes he wondered if he ever would.
Distracted from his own contemplations, Sam slowly followed the direction of Nate's gaze, "Oh that?" and, as they both looked away, his face turned an expression it always acquired when spoken of the №1 Persona Non Grata on his list – their father. With a mixture of contempt, disgust and loathing, as if he just sipped on the most disgusting coffee, a cup of which also happened to contain a stinkbug decaying there for hours, Sam fished a pack of cigarette from out of his pocket and struck the sparkwheel.
Nate quietly waited for his answer, watching as his brother pulled on the cigarette looking bitterly inward and, as the smoke streamed thinly out, Sam's face gradually smoothed out. Nate could see the effort. He could even bet his brother bit his tongue to keep himself from blurting the angry words out.
"It's hard to tell," Sam said carefully instead, "Mom wasn't quite…alright, herself. But I do believe if he was there more that he could convince her to get some help… But he wasn't home much. And when he was he wasn't really "there". Now that-," Sam motioned at the family nearby, catching a clearly disapproving look from the blond woman in the beach chair as she squinted at the spire of smoke coming from their direction, "What you see at first glance might not be what it really is behind closed doors."
Nate side-eyed the family with evident doubt and Sam smiled with a corner of his mouth.
"The husband could be neglectful. The wife could be vain and self-absorbed. One of them – or both – might be cheating – the other realizing the fact, but pretending to not know," Sam shrugged, "They might be hating each other's guts, but keeping the peace for the kids. Or simply living together out of habit when there really is no love left," Sam's smile turned cynical and apologetic at the same time as he looked at his brother and then at the ocean in front of them and the sun reflected in his light brown eyes, "Love," he added with a rise of his brows, "Marriage," he shook his head as he turned to Nate again, "It's a joke."
The cigarette was not even half-way finished, yet Sam slowly sank it into the sand next to him, twisting it until it was out.
"If you ask me - there's one thing I am absolutely certain of," the older Drake said resolutely, "I will never get married."
Nate was silent as he processed Sam's words and the ghosts of his thoughts danced in his warm blue eyes. And then…
Sam watched as his little brother smirked a similar cynical smile that matched his own, "Yeah," Nate nodded agreeably, but, as he looked away, the smirk quickly vanished from his face.
He looked at the family again. Carefully. Making sure his interest stayed unnoticed.
Or so he thought.
"Hey!"
A small voice startled them both, coming seemingly out of nowhere, and they had to turn back to find its source.
Several feet behind and to the side stood the older sister – the blond seven year old who had been so immersed into chasing birds for pictures. As the attention of two sets of eyes set on her, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other uneasily, before she spoke again.
Then she smiled warmly and somewhat shyly and her light hazel eyes sparkled with coy twinkles like ripples on water.
"I'm sorry but your sand dollar-," she said, focusing her eyes on Nate and he looked down at his newfound trophy, "-would you mind if I take a picture of it?" I've never seen a whole one before – not in the wild anyway, but those store ones are not the same and they don't count!" she explained her logic and bit her lower lip expectantly as she dropped her eyes for a moment, waiting for their answer.
"Yeah…sure," Nate found nothing else to say, taken aback by the sheer sincerity of the girl's request.
The blond girl beamed with a smile and quickly approached them, taking the sand dollar out of Nate's extended hand. Her brother watched them all from the distance, slowing down his attempts at saddling the surf board and not even trying to hide his protective stare. The girl's parents on the other hand kept on doing what they were doing – with the father helping the younger girl with the sandcastle construction and the mother peacefully laying on the beach chair – only skidding looks in the older girl's direction gave away their attention.
Meanwhile, the girl positioned the coveted sand dollar on the sand and begun circling it with her camera.
"I'm Elena by the way," she said and shot a warm look at Nate and Sam in between the clicking of her camera.
Nate smiled. It was a look of a child who had never seen evil or cruelty. To whom the world was as white as snow on Christmas morning. …Or sands of the beach dunes in this particular case. The look was endearing and appealing in its sheer innocence.
"Nathan," Nate replied with a small smile, "And this is my brother Sam," he added and Sam nodded to his words.
"Nice to meet you," Elena said politely, her eyes fixed on the camera display.
"Likewise," Nate and Sam answered in unison.
For a while it was just the clicking of the camera that broke the silence – the squawking of seagulls over the water and occasional squeals of the younger sister as the volume of her voice bounced up and down like a ball in contrast with her father's quiet fluid speech.
Nate and Sam watched as Elena hovered over the photoshoot scene. Then she straightened up and looked over it appraisingly, shaking her head in disapproval in the end and squatting down to fix the issue at hand.
Carefully, she pushed the sand together into a small mound and then placed the sand dollar on top.
The clicking resumed.
In the end, the blond girl focused the camera as close to the sand dollar as she could, plopped down on the sand scout-like. Nate could see the display of the camera and the beautiful scene Elena was trying to capture.
In the dotted camera square…
Nate's head inched closer.
… was the giant sand dollar overlooking the ocean shore; water gleaming with sunlight; seagulls diving in the distance; tiny diamonds of sand and shards of shell swirling in the surf with one single speck closest to the sand dollar glaring brightly at the camera and… Nate's left foot caught in the spotlight.
Frozen in the thrill of the hunt, the blond girl reluctantly tore her eyes off the camera.
"Would you mind…?" she said sheepishly, but Nate's foot was already gone, leaving but a small sandy cloud behind, "Thank you," Elena smiled.
Then she clicked the camera one last time and, with a look of complete accomplishment on her face, rose from the sand.
"Thank you," Elena said again, letting the camera dangle from the cord on her neck. She measured the sand dollar in her hand with one last admiring look and reached it back out to Nate, "That's one awesome find!"
Nate took the sand dollar from her hand and the girl stood for a moment in front of them. Then she raised her hand open in goodbye, dropped it back down and with a soft smile slowly turned around to leave.
After a split-second of hesitation, Nate clutched the sand dollar tightly in his hand and quickly stood up, sand streaming down from the creases of his clothes.
"Hey, wait a second," he called out and the girl stopped in her tracks and turned around, while her brother took a worried half-step in the direction of the shore.
"Huh?"
Nate walked over to her, extending his hand out.
"Here. You should have it. Happy Birthday Elena," he said in sudden determination and placed the sand dollar into her hand.
The girl's face turned serious as she looked up and down from Nate's face to his present and back, "Uhm… ," she hesitantly looked back at her parents for a moment, but they didn't bat an eye, giving her the full freedom to respond on her own, "Are you sure?" she asked as she looked at Nate again and he nodded.
"One hundred percent. I'll probably lose it anyway. It will be safer with you."
Elena smiled and the same innocent twinkles shone at him from her eyes.
"Thank you. Again. Really," she said and her fingers clutched around the sand dollar.
"Sure thing. Keep it safe."
Nate smiled back and in that smile there was no thorn of cynicism left.
Behind him he heard Sam shuffling to his feet. It was time for them to leave. Get something to eat, get some sleep before getting back on the road again the next morning. Another year. Another migration. No rest for the wicked.
"Bye."
"Bye. Good luck," Elena added though she herself didn't know why.
Catching up with Sam, who had already picked up their few belongings, Nate turned back to look at the family one last time. The blond girl had left her camera on the beach towel, with the sand dollar placed on top of the screen. She was already playing in the water with her brother. Their father scooped up the younger sister and sat down on the chair next to his wife, who was laughing happily at something he said. Her laughter stroke the breeze like wind chimes as the two brothers walked further and further away.
"You're one good guy, little brother," Sam nudged him on the shoulder good-naturedly.
Nate would forever remember the words Sam spoke as they sat there on the beach that day…those words about love and about marriage, yet…
…The curious little phenomenon of a perfectly normal family with a father, a mother and three happy kids – it was an enigma to him. And, harbored deep down within his soul, carefully camouflaged with indifference and hidden behind a brick wall of disparaging humor for good measure, was a sincere childish hope that, despite what Sam said, this phenomenon could really be what it looked like at face value – loving and happy. Could it be? Perhaps one day he would find out.
The fourteen year old Nathan Drake smiled and nudged his big brother back.
"All right, here's another one…"
The forty-five year old Nathan Drake grunted, as he lifted a heavy box out of the way and into the pile of similar boxes stacked next to the opening of the attic ladder.
They would soon be taken downstairs and loaded up on the utility trailer to be dropped off at the nearest thrift store.
"I honestly have no idea how we managed to accumulate so much craa- I mean stuff," Nate smiled innocently at his wife, whose brow was already arching up in warning at one of the forbidden words.
He wiped a bead of sweat off his temple as he turned back to their ten year old daughter"So, yeah – and that's how I met your mother!" Nate finished the paused narration with a cocky look on his face as he beamed at Elena who walked past them with a smaller box in her hands.
"That is not how it happened," she interjected with a shake of her head, "I don't remember any of it!"
"Oh c'mon honey, you wound me," Nate grabbed on to his chest with both hands, sending conspiratory looks at the little blond girl who snickered at her Dad's performance, "It was meant to be, from the start!"
"I don't doubt that," Elena smiled coyly, "But that is not how we met. It happened when-" she suddenly paused and looked at their daughter after which her gaze dropped to the side as she thought carefully of what information she could safely give out, "…at that restaurant in New Orleans, remember?" she added extra meaning into the last word as she looked at her husband and his face adopted a knowing look as he suddenly switched the topic.
"All right Cass, how about we go get some ice cream? It's hot as hell in here. We can finish going through all this stuff later when we cool down a bit."
Under normal circumstances Cassie Drake would drop everything and run ahead of everybody upon hearing the magical word, but…
This time was different.
This time, sitting on the warm attic floor, circled by a fan of her Mom's old comic books and a neat pile of other little trinkets she repossessed from her parents during the big cleanup they finally committed themselves to, Cassie couldn't care less.
She felt the thrill of the chase and the grip of investigation. The fascinating rummaging, scavenging, foraging through her parents' stuff and exploration of their faded past captivated her mind and the only way she could stop now was if her Dad threw her over his shoulder and carried her downstairs.
Which he apparently had no intentions of doing.
Both Nate and Elena glanced suspiciously at Cassie, then looked at each other and finally Elena shrugged in capitulation.
"All right then, just make sure you don't look into your Dad's questionable magazines if you happen to find them!" she said and stepped in the direction of the attic door.
"What?! I don't know what you're talking about," Nate protested jokingly and Elena rolled her eyes with a sly smile.
As they both headed toward the exit, Nate looked back for a moment – taking in the sight of his daughter. Sunlight pierced the attic in sheets of light that fell from an angled window on the right. It dressed the space in warm golden tones and bathed blond strands with a glowing halo, painting shadows under long dark eyelashes. Cassie picked some old book out of the box in front of her and turned it around in her hands before she slowly opened it; she studied it carefully, flipping through the pages with a serious focused look on her face that was identical to her mother's.
Nate's heart filled with pride, with awe and adoration and it reflected on his face. It never ceased to amaze him how sometimes a random mundane moment could cause him to stop in his tracks and gaze at his daughter in awe of the wonder that she was.
Cassie raised her eyes briefly, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and looked to the side with a mysterious little smirk that she always got when catching her Dad staring at her.
"Is there something-"
POW!
Cassie didn't finish because a small plastic ball suddenly flew in her direction and popped her on the shoulder.
"Ouch!" she squeaked in surprise.
The bullet was shot out of a compact nerf gun that hung in the holster on the beam next to the attic door. At that particular moment it was clutched in her Dad's hand and he was fully enjoying the effect his attack had on his daughter with a mischievous grin he had spread from ear to ear.
"DAD!"
Nate blew imaginary smoke off the gun barrel, "Couldn't resist. Don't stay here too long – I'll save some ice-cream for you…maybe."
He stuck the gun back into the holster and followed his wife down the ladder steps. Cassie heard giggling; a sound of something being slapped; her Mom's hushed voice; more laughter and then some pretty distinct smooching.
Cassie rolled her eyes. Sometimes she wished her parents were less… affectionate toward each other? Well, at least this time they tried to be affectionate a respectful distance away from their kid for a change. Though… while some of her classmates were going through their parents' divorce, it didn't seem as if Cassie had anything to worry about on that front.
"I guess that's a good thing," Cassie mumbled to herself and put the book to the side.
She pushed the box to the side and it dragged noisily on the wooden planks of the attic floor.
"All right, let's see here…"
Cassie walked several paces down the row of cardboard boxes until she narrowed her choice down to a medium sized one that said "Elena childhood stuff".
"Well that sounds interesting."
The box wasn't particularly heavy and mostly contained notebooks, pictures and a bunch of old National Geographics for kids, spruced up with occasional small trinkets.
Cassie moved into a shadier spot and placed the box on the floor for her own more confortable perusing pleasure. Her parents' voices could still be heard from downstairs growing more and more faint as they walked away towards the kitchen.
And then it was quiet.
So quiet Cassie could almost hear speckles of dust bumping into each other as they floated lazily in the sunlight.
Her fingers sorted out through the contents of the box.
… a deck of cards… a mood ring… a scratched up case of a PS1 game…a tamagotchi toy… a booklet from Amicalola Falls State Park…and so many photos…
Suddenly, she came upon a jewelry box that was hidden on the bottom.
Cassie quizzically scrunched up her brows as she leaned down to take the box out for a closer look.
It was plain, without any embellishments and locked with a simple brass-colored clasp.
The clasp turned easily and the box opened with a small pop.
Inside was a perfectly preserved and fully intact sand dollar. And a series of pictures of the same sand dollar inside a bright beach scene.
Cassie flipped through the pictures, feeling her heart treacherously skip a beat as inkling of understanding tugged on its strings.
She came to the last picture and on the top right corner of it was a foot accidentally trapped in the photo.
Cassie realized she was holding her breath this whole time.
She breathed in, staring at the picture and the sand dollar in bewilderment as excitement filled every nook of her body and she couldn't contain it anymore.
"Mom!"
She yelled and, skipping over boxes, ran for the ladder door.