Chatterbox: Inkwell

Hey, so I haven't been on Cricket in a long time. Been kinda too busy writing on my own and for school to post anything.

But I submitted a story (that I literally wrote in less than a week) to my school's literary magazine, and it got first place. My mom thinks I should submit it to other stuff, but I honestly don't think it's that good (pretty boring actually).

So I was wondering if I could post it here, and you guys could tell me what you think? Honest thoughts please, I'd like to hear an objective assessment from someone who doesn't know me personally. Thanks. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Kate pushed the kayak off the sand and balanced it in the shallow water before stepping into the seat. The narrow sides wobbled a moment as she drew the prow forward with a deep stroke of the paddle. Switching hands, she pulled through the water again, sending the boat on a glide through the gentle waves. Ahead, the opposite shore of the bay rose low on the horizon, a blurred green strip. Push, pass, push; the kayak oar swung rhythmically side to side. Smoothly the boat sailed across the glittering sea, a dot of color on the green waves.

The sun blared bright in the clear sky as the shore ahead grew closer. Behind strips of white sand left by the lapping water, rushes and scrub stretched away over mudflats to merge into sparse pine forests. The constant rise and pull away of the tide had shaped out coves and points from the wet shore. Propelled by occasional strokes, Kate drifted by these quiet inlets. The passing reeds rustled in the balmy salt wind and the thin trees stood dark, away behind the wild swath.

Kate let the kayak be pushed along the shore for a few minutes, then turned into one of the larger coves to wander around its curving edge. It took longer than she expected to round it. Coming to the opposite side, she turned her kayak around and started to head back into the bay.

As she slid past the point of the cove into open water, a blast of wind hit her face and a wave swooped the kayak’s front quickly to the left. Kate grabbed the paddle and struggled with short repetitive sweeps to turn it back around. Another gust of wind swept across the bay, whipping her hair into her face and once again impelling the boat to the side. With a growing feeling of trouble, Kate dug her paddle into the water, urging the boat against the coming waves. She had forgotten about the tide.

The water was incredibly heavy with each deep stroke forward. The waves, intent the opposite way, pressed against the rocking prow. There could be no pause between weighted swings for fear of losing any momentum. Pull, pull, the boat slid forward, rocking up and down with every successive battery of white-foamed rollers. Kate’s arms strained with each long heave.

Another blast of wind ripped alongside, and her stroke stalled midway as the salty breeze surged past. She clenched the handle in an attempt to hold the craft braced against the swell. It was useless; the wind continued to push. After one long second of battle, the kayak started to slide back. Kate watched helplessly as in a few seconds her craft slipped entirely by the cove, erasing the painful work of minutes.

She was sent past successive mini beaches before she picked up her paddle again. Halfheartedly pulling on one side, she slowly turned its receding course towards the shore and slid into the shallows. The rushes clinging to the pitted clay bank waved sadly as the prow ground to a stop on the beach. Kate sat there for a minute, trying to calm her frustration.

Eventually she stepped into the water to drag her boat higher onto the beach, before sitting with a sigh on the warm yellow sand. Across the ruffled bay, she could see her house, tiny and blurred but there. She glared at its frustrating farness, trying to will herself across the sea. How many hours till the tide reversed? She hadn’t noticed its direction on the way, it might be night before she could get home. Though that might not be too far off. The sun had been steadily sliding its intensity down the sky during her cruise and the full golden warmth now beamed directly in her eyes. The afternoon was getting late.

Kate closed her eyes, took a deep breath of the salt air, inflating her lungs until they hurt, and let it out with an explosive sigh. Then, strangely tired, she flopped back on the beach. Above, white cotton-drifts of clouds puffed gently across the blue sky. They wandered aimlessly, serene in the huge stretch of space. She watched them glide, finding shapes and letters in their changing billows. To the right, an oyster-shaped cloud slowly morphed into a sailboat, which gusted across the sky until its mast floated off and became a strawberry. Kate involuntarily smiled.

The sand was warm beneath her back. Far away, gulls called over the rumble and shushing of the sea. The rushes waved and whispered, leaning with the breeze to shade her face. Keeping her eyes fixed on the Protean clouds, Kate relaxed. She didn’t know how long she stayed there, half asleep, sinking into the summer day.

Eventually she was brought back to consciousness. Something was different. She realized the sound of the lapping waves had grown quieter. Drowsily sitting up, she could see how far the water’s edge had receded. The light had also changed, more golden, and the sun was imminently close to the horizon. The afternoon was ending, and the tide had turned.

It was only a minute before she was in the kayak, paddling towards the open water again. She held her breath as she slid out past the point. But instead of resistance, a wave caught her up, continuing its sweep across the gulf. After a few more paddles, she could put the pole down, trailing her fingers in the cool water and watching her house come steadily closer. She smiled again, while the waves gently rocked onward.  

As the sun slipped below the horizon and the clouds turned orange and gold, a lone kayak glided across the bay, homeward bound.