Stars and Shadows

The lake was a black mirror, scarred with the shadows of trees, and the moon a bright smudge on its surface. A boy stood on the sand, letting the cool water lap over his bare feet. The air was heavy with the smell of damp earth, and a hush fell upon the world. He looked out, and the dark made the lake an ocean, with the distance to the other shore as unfathomable as its depth.

A flicker of light caught the boy’s eye. Probably nothing, but ... No, there it was again! Far out across the water, a shining beacon. He watched it flash: on and off, on and off. His heart jumped, matching the rhythm. Quicker, then slower. Dots and dashes - Morse code, just like they had learned together. And then the boy was running.

Sand gave way to slippery pebbles underfoot, then to dirt. His dark hair flew wildly, and he paid no attention to the stones jutting through the dirt road. A velvet curtain of trees drew across the lake behind him as he cut across the corner and started up the hill. At the top stood a little wooden house, as much a part of the surrounding woods as the axe-scarred stump in the yard. When the boy reached the front door, his breath was ragged and his heart pounded.

Inside, the house was still. Moonlight drifted through the bare windows of the living room, casting a cool blue light on the simple furniture. The boy moved as quickly as he dared, still breathing heavily, running his hand along the rough timber walls to find his way to the back of the house.

He passed his brothers room, and stole a glance inside. Everything was clean and tidy, and the bed was neatly made. On the bookcase, a bronze trophy gleamed from the shadows, propping up a row of adventure books with brightly coloured dust-jackets. The boy remembered staying up late to read them, nestled under the bedsheets and holding the flashlight while his brother turned the pages. Huckleberry Finn had been their favourite, with its woodcut illustrations promising excitement and freedom. He hadn’t been able to read it since.

Spotting his brother’s satchel just inside the room, he grabbed it and dumped its contents onto the bed. Chewed-up pencils, exercise books, a piece of gum as hard as a rock - nothing useful. He took the yellow flashlight from the bedside table and tossed it into the bag, along with his brother’s favourite woollen sweater in a loose bundle, then he slung the bulging satchel across his chest and smiled. On his way out of the room he paused by the bookcase, pulled Huck Finn off the shelf, and stuffed it down into the folds of the sweater.

Dad’s workshop filled the back of the house with the smell of sawdust and linseed oil. Familiar old tools littered the workbench: a hammer, a trusted pocket knife, a little box of nails. The boy walked over to the corner and looked up at the narrow birch logs leaning against the wall. These would do. He took a coil of thin rope from a hook on the wall and got to work.

It took a couple of hours to build the raft; the boy’s hands ached, and he felt the sting of a splinter in his palm, but he stood up and surveyed his work proudly, checking the lashing for strength like Dad taught them. It was just about big enough for two people. He pulled it across the room and unlatched the back door. Outside, the air was cool and still, and the moon was a soft glow behind silver clouds. The raft dropped over the threshold and cut into the dirt, and the boy shivered with excitement as he dragged it down the hill. Inside the house, Mom and Dad slept soundly, dreaming of the family whole again.

At the shore, the boy tipped the raft onto the ground and tested the water with his toes. The smell of the lake washed over him. He looked out towards the other side. No sign of the flashing light, but his brother was still out there. He’d seen it. He was going to see him again. Pushing the hair out of his eyes, he kicked the raft out onto the water and watched as it dipped beneath the surface, then floated. He flung the satchel onto the logs and clambered aboard, then kicked off against the sand.

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Awarded second place in the weekly short story competition on the 'Writer's Block' Discord server.