Long Beach, CA. -- August 23, 1985

The number one reason that most people went to the beach was because of the heat. The second was because they wanted to impress whoever accompanied them with their swimming attire. Jorge Cervantes was of the first reason. At fifteen, the scrawny, tan skinned teenager did not have a body that he believed was meant to be shown off at all. Thin, with little to no muscular tissue on his body and with peach fuzz he tried to pull off as a “goatee”, Jorge was usually an embarrassed teen who wanted nothing to do with any part of himself in public. But in this unseasonably hot weather, even those most conscientious are willing to throw caution to the wind. Especially when their girlfriends are willing to sport bikini’s in front of them.

Nichole Santos, the young girl he had always had an eye for, was the only creature on this earth with enough force to make Jorge strip down to swim trunks and walk out to the beach. The young girl was thin, with flowing black hair and deep hazel eyes that Jorge immediately fell in love with. Well, he was not so sure he could call it love, since he first had these feelings in Kindergarten. Yes, Nichole was the girl next door, the one whom he shared most every class with, whom he became best friends with. This past summer though, his deepest wish finally came true…they started to date.

“Come on, you’re such a nerd!” Nichole said with her voice filled with mirth.

“No, come on! I want to see it,” Jorge pleaded with a grin, his braces flashing across her face.

Nichole shook her head and crossed her arms across her pink swim top. A hot pink fanny pack was strapped cross her waist. “No, Jorge! I’m not going to watch ‘Back to the Future’ with you again!”

“But it’s sooo cool!”

Nichole crossed her arms firmly and raised her eyebrow. Jorge immediately knew then that it was time for him to stop. He glared back at her, just as firmly. The two of them, teenagers locked in a stare down that would only end when one of them buckled. Finally, after almost a minute of this, their bodies began to tremble. Limbs shook, lips quivered, and before they could help it, the pair of them descended into a fit of laughs and giggles that seemed to lighten the mood greatly. After they were done and finished, they sighed as they stood looking at each other. Suddenly then, Nichole stepped forward and gave Jorge a quick kiss on the lips.

Both immediately blushed as they stepped back from each other, the sun glistened off the roaring water off to their right, forcing them to keep from looking away. There was another shared smile as Nichole reached into her hot pink fanny pack and fished around until she pulled out a small object wrapped in paper.

“Here, I know your birthday passed but…I figured I could still try.”

“Thanks!” Jorge said, all asmile, as he took the small package and immediately unwrapped it. Inside was a brand new cassette tape with the letteres A-C-D-C printed large on the paper cover inside. “Awww thanks! I don’t have this one!”

“I figured you didn’t,” she said warmly. She then tugged on his arm. “Come on, Jorge, let’s go swimming!”

“Oh, uh, y-you know I don’t know how to swim,” he said a little embarrassed.

“So? I’ll teach you!”

“Um, no, it’s okay,” he said shyly as he started to wander further up the shore, but still watched. “You go ahead. I’ll watch.”

He sighed as he stepped back and noted the disappointed expression on Nichole’s face. He did not like the idea of saying ‘no’ to her when she just wants to go out and have fun. But after all, she knows that he has problems with water. Ever since he was a kid and nearly drowned in his uncle’s swimming pool on Labor day, Jorge has stayed away from bodies of water larger than a bathtub. He had no inclination to try and change that now. Still, part of him really did feel bad. Nichole only wanted to have fun…why did his phobia have to get in the way of that. He sighed as he planted his butt on the sand and watched Nichole as she watched him closely.

“You know Jorge, you are really unbelievable,” Nichole said with a small roll of her eyes.

“What? Because I don’t want to swim?” Jorge responded as he sat on the sandy beach and had turned his head to avoid her scathing gaze.

Apparently the tone he had used had a little more bite than what he had actually wanted to use because Nichole took a step back and merely stared at Jorge all the harder. Her gaze bore holes into the side of his face as he turned the AC/DC cassette over and over between his fingers. He did not want to look at her because he had a feeling that this would descend into a fight but he knew that he could not avoid it forever. He had made the stupid comment and used the tone, she he knew he was going to hear an earful from her.

Finally, unable to take the stare anymore, Jorge looked up and, of course, she was still there with her arms across her chest.

Nichole just scowled slightly. “Why are you being such a jerk?” she announced and stormed away from him.

“Hey!” Jorge replied as he made the motions to stand, but he instantly thought better of it and merely sat back down on the gritty sand.

If there were one thing that Jorge hated it was getting into fights with Nichole. Over the years of friendship, there was one thing about them that was a constant, they fought. Though these usually ended up being harmless, there was the occasion or two in which their arguing reached a whole other level…hurt feelings. Too many times they vowed never to speak to each other again because of one or another stupid thing uttered, and Jorge felt this to be one of those times.

He looked up once again and spied Nichole as she headed for the water. A trio of muscular teens passed by, behind her, they all checked her out as she walked, one even whistled at her. Nichole had turned to see who it was but Jorge could not gauge her reaction. She had turned back to face the water too fast. Before he knew it though, she had walked straight towards a small, rolling wave and dashed into the churned up, foamy water. He could smell the ocean and while that scent tantalized him, there was still that small tingle of fear at the base of his spine when he looked at the sparkled water.

He did not mean to make Nichole so angry with him, but part of him just sincerely believed that she simply did not understand what he was going through. He nearly drowned! Part of him really wished that she would just get that. But as he looked out over the rolling waves, he had to pause. Through the majestic shine of the water’s surface, the thunder of the crashing and the cool spark of the mish, he had to ask himself one question…

Where did she go?

Frantic eyes scanned the surface of the water as Jorge glanced left and right, trying in vain to catch any sight at all of Nichole. At first he merely thought he was over reacting. Maybe she dived just for the fun of it. But that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise. He had always trusted his instincts and right now they were alerting him that something was very wrong. On his feet he continued to scan, focused hard on the spot he last saw her…then he caught sight of the flail of limbs.

And that’s when everything turned into a blur.

Before he knew it Jorge ran headlong straight for the oncoming waves, but before the spray even touched him he stopped. Fear had gripped his heart, kept him from moving any closer to the water. Nichole was too far out and he did not know how to swim. He screamed loud, trying to alert someone, anyone to what was happening, then he felt it.

His chest tugged when he saw the water flow out from the tide, almost like it was taking part of him with it. It felt as if a chain had been attached to his insides and connected to the water, that flowing, churning water he saw in front of him. It was odd, he had never had a feeling like this before. He felt connected, in tune with the water. He knew the motions it made and would make in the future and he felt at calm, peace with that rhythmic ebb and flow. The smell of the water, the roar of the waves, there was no more fear anymore. Well…at least that is how he felt until someone behind him screamed and pointed out to the water.

Again Jorge saw that flail of an arm and he returned to reality with a new sense of clarity. People were alert now that someone was in trouble but they would never get there in time. That is when he felt something take control, something that told him he could do more than just stand at the shore. Before he knew it, Jorge thrusts out both his arms and faced his palms towards the water.

And nothing happened.

But, despite that fact, Jorge continued. Arms extended, his focus unmoving on the churning water as he felt that connect in his chest turn and tug his insides. He did not know what possessed him but he would not move away. Then, he felt the water churn, knocked off its usual rhythm. He was having an effect! It had to be him. He concentrated as hard he could then, when he felt his grip as tight on the water as he could make it, the scrawny Hispanic kid shot out both his arms to the side and watched in awe…the water responded.

Everything in the natural world has to abide by a law or two and this is especially true for one of the abundant substances on the Earth…water. Water flows, follows the path of least resistance, and…well…is wet. But as Jorge stood on the shoreline of the beach, his hands outstretched towards the waters, he felt that the old laws didn’t apply anymore. He felt a connection with them, one that no normal human should have but there it was. The gentle ebb and flow, he felt every single motion of it and knew precisely where it would flow to next. Then…that was when he raised his hands and threw them out to his sides.

Laws of nature state that water does not follow the command of a common man by mere thought and gesture alone. But despite all that, despite what textbooks and scientists and common sense say…Jorge Cervantes watched it respond.

The crash was deafening and at first people at the beach did not notice. Most would rather play it off as being little more than a passing helicopter overhead or maybe even a car accident back in the streets behind them. Then slowly, scream after scream issued forth as an entire beach of citizen’s leapt up from their tanning and fun times in surprise. Before them, they watched the waves do the oddest of things. Instead of lapping up towards the shore and scaring little children who would run from it giggling, the water stood high.

The towering monolith of frothy, bubbling water stood high, towering towards the sky enough to partially block out some of the sun’s light (depending on the angle at which a bystander stood by). In doing so, a riot of sparkling rainbow flecks were cast out amongst the beach goers. Their terrified and awestruck faces were bombarded with a cascade of colors as they all stared wide eyed at the ocean’s answer to the tower of Babylon. Then…without a word, they watched in shock as the water split itself down the middle and ushered itself off to the sides, parting with such majesty as can only be described as an act of god.

And that is exactly what people believed that they were witnessing.

Jorge Cervantes, on the other hand, did not think that. Instead he merely stood at the shoreline, arms outstretched as water obeyed and began to part for him. From his perspective, all he saw were the towering guardians of the oceans, rippling and churning in two solid walls and reached up to seemed to hold the sky in place. He would have been awed at the sight had he taken more than a second to glance at it. Instead though, his eyes fell to the formerly ocean covered sand at his feet.

He scanned, eyes roamed and searched frantically for what it was that he sought: not the wet rocks, or the flailing fish, or the glistening seaweed…but the still, lifeless seeming form of the teenage girl whom was his best friend and recently his love. His movements became robotic as he stepped forward, feet stepping onto the still wet sand, squishing between his toes as leaving his print behind his every uplifted step. Despite the discomfort, he did not care. Instead he walked boldly on, caring not that to his left and right the towering walls of water seemed shudder threateningly. Instead he focused only on the unmoving form of Nichole.

Shaky limbs reached down as knelt and stared at her water dotted face. She looked pale, like a sleeping princess had he seen in picture books as a child. But a kiss was not going to wake her up. Her unmoving chest and lips proved that. Still…he was not going to leave her there. Carefully his small arms slipped underneath her and with a grunt he stood and hefted her up into his arms.

The water shuddered violent above him and groaned with anger at being held at bay from their natural state. But despite the protests, Jorge paid them no heed. Instead, he turned and walked towards the dry beach, Nichole in his arms and an unexplainable pressure at the base of his skull. He tried to ignore it, to block out the pain and focused on the expansive shoreline that stretched out before him. But with every step, he could feel his brain pulsating in pain inside of his skull. The water shuddered again but he did not dare turn back, instead he continued on…

Step…Pain…Squish…

Step…Pain…Squish…

The shoreline got closer, he focused on the beach blankets, the umbrellas, the stands, the terrified and awestruck people…it would only take a few more steps…then he smelled blood. That ruby red, precious fluid of life began to flow down from his nostrils as the pain became so blinding in his skull that he saw nothing ahead of him. Eyes winced in pain, he could only continued to take steps…and this lasted until finally he set foot on dry land.

With as gasp at feeling the gritty, dry sand under his feet, Jorge, sapped from all his strength, could do nothing other than simply…collapse into the blackness of his unresponsive mind.

The ocean roared in freedom behind him, crashing back down to its rightful place covering the wet sands below. The crowd of people screamed and ran backward as water sprayed up on everyone, dotting and splashing all who was too close. Most stood in shock, staring at the empty sky where the water had once stood up high, almost as if waiting to see if either it were a prank or it would happen again. Others ran for their cars, fearful of a repeat performance, and still others…those ones dropped to their knees and uttered every prayer and confession they knew, praising the utmost glory they had witnessed.

Few if anyone immediately took knowledge of the fallen, comatose boy the pale or the drowned body of a teenage girl whom lay next to him. But as they lay there, warmed by the sun high above, their hands lay upon each other in one last time.