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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Reasonable_Exam9591 on 2024-11-23 05:04:24+00:00.
Let me start off by saying the ocean and my father make me feel the same way.
My mother drowned in a riptide when I was barely out of diapers, and her loss left my father a volatile, alcoholic shell of himself. Then, when I was the ripe old age of twenty-four, both he and the ocean made me a widower.
I tried to tell myself it wasn’t my father’s fault. Even in the absence of an apology, the guilt of being at the helm when the sea turned over like a slumbering monster must somehow be torture. After all, taking my new wife on that boat with him was supposed to be an act of trust and moving on.
I forgave that man for so much. It wasn’t fair that I survived and Sally didn’t. Fuck, it wasn’t fair that he survived at all.
Existing without my wife in a town I hated felt like sitting still in a burning house. So I left, and for three years I never looked back. It was hard at first. I fell into the same alcoholic vices as my father, but I like to think I made it to a better place.
I might have even eventually rebuilt my life if my sister hadn’t called.
It started when my work buddies invited me out for drinks, which I declined in favor of sprinting to my car. City traffic meant time was limited, and I hadn’t missed a meeting yet, just as the court ordered. My hard earned six-month chip was so close, I could almost touch the proof I wasn’t just a huge pile of shit and wasted potential.
A shrill ring from my coat pocket nearly made me drop my keys, and when I saw the caller ID, my stomach sank.
Jenny never called. We texted occasionally, but after I got arrested for the final time, it was too much energy for either of us.
“Hey, Jenny,” my voice came out tight. “I-Is everything-”
“Dad’s dead.”
“Oh.”
She told me he took his boat out in the middle of a storm the night before and it washed up that morning in pieces. The coast guard wasn’t hopeful that his body could be found with how rough the seas were.
After losing Sally, I couldn’t take hearing his voice let alone the sight of him, but now William Briggs was gone. Time ran out to salvage anything, and I had no way to prepare for how much that hurt despite the conscious choice I made to let that timer run out. He was never going to see me make something of myself, even after all he did to ruin me.
“I need your help going through the house.” Jenny sounded tired. “Pack his things away.”
My throat tightened. “Shit, Jenny, I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?” Her words carried an edge that made me flinch.
“I mean, I have work and Betty doesn’t travel well…” I trailed off. Those excuses sounded hollow even to me. Jenny, having never left the trenches of our hometown except to deal with me, was not impressed.
“Are you kidding me? Who the fuck is Betty?”
“Oh, um, sorry. I forgot to tell you. She's this cat I found.” I didn't add that she was what stopped me from jumping off a bridge. “You know, to give myself responsibility or whatever.”
My sister’s weary sigh reverberated in my bones. “Billy, I hate asking you to come back. I really do. I’m sorry. I…have a lot going on and I need help.”
“You and Dave having problems again?”
It took her a moment to answer with a quiet, “What else is new?”
Jenny wasn’t the crying type, but unlike me, she hadn't given up on our Dad. No surprise her dipshit husband gave zero shits about her grief. Jenny was raised by the decorated sea captain our father was before our mother drowned. I wished I knew that guy. Maybe if I had things would be different.
The last thing I wanted to do was return to that godforsaken town, but Jenny wouldn’t ask me to come back unless she was desperate.
“I can’t.” My attempt to be final about it was a feeble wheeze, and Jenny’s rage permeated through the speaker as she ground out,
“You owe me for what you’ve put me through.”
I had no grounds to fight her on that, humiliating though it was. It sucked to be reminded of how recent my latest fuck up was, and how Jenny, like always, showed up when I called.
“Okay,” I finally breathed. “I’ll be there.”
There was no sign of my father’s body over the few days I took to prepare. I packed up Betty and a few other necessities, and the three-hour drive back to Hell on Earth commenced.
As the city gave way to trees and crop fields, it was impossible for me not to be reminded of all the times Jenny made this drive to get me out of trouble. All while pursued by a flood of passive-aggressive calls and texts from Dave.
Betty was content as could be sitting in the passenger seat. Despite being a street cat, not a great many things bothered her. It made me feel like more of an ass using her as an excuse not to show up.
I opened the top of her mesh carrier and she purred, happy as a clam within it as we passed the old, water stained sign that read, “Welcome to Fisherman’s Bay” in faded font with a peeling mermaid lounging beneath.
Fisherman’s Bay was as gray and bleak as ever, but if you asked Jenny, she swore up and down that the sun made a regular appearance through the storm clouds that blanketed the town. Surely it had to, but I never remembered seeing it. Sometimes it felt like this place warped itself depending on whose eyes it was filtered through.
Even with my windows rolled up, the faint stench of fish managed to force its way through my air filter. I drove through the shops and I slowed the car to a crawl when I saw the state of the police station.
The entire front of the building was covered by an absurd amount of paper, and upon a closer look, they were missing posters. So many, they overlapped, the top layer shriveled by the perpetual dampness in the air.
“What in the world?” I whispered. In a town of only 6,000 people, this amount of loss was substantial, but vandalizing a police station wasn’t something I thought the people here had in them.
The door to the station opened and an officer went to work scraping off wads of posters. He must have sensed my staring, because he looked over his shoulder at me with a glare that said it was in my best interest to move along.
So I did and tried to put it out of my mind. This place wasn't my business anymore.
Past the houses, swaths of rocky cliffs and pine trees, I took the main road down to the ocean side. I had to steel myself with a deep breath at the massive expanse of water that stretched endlessly into the horizon.
I promised myself I wouldn’t panic. I would help my sister with our father’s affairs and then be back in the city by the end of the week. I’d never step foot in this town again.
I pulled up to my childhood house to see Jenny pacing around on the porch. Her dark, curly hair fell around her shoulders as she waved to me.
My dormant memories stirred, and for a moment, Jenny was no longer an adult, but a chubby teenager in overalls. The circular window at the top center of the house was where I often watched her and my dad's front lawn screaming matches.
It all came back so clearly, Jenny’s knock on my window startled me back to the present.
I zipped Betty back into her carrier and exited with her.
“Hey, Jenny.” I got out and we stared at each other for a few seconds. The last time I saw her in person I was bruised, drunk, and frankly, a total asshole. The finality of her disappointment when she posted bail hung over us both.
She cleared her throat and diverted her gaze to the carrier.
“I thought the cat didn’t travel well,” she said.
“Yeah, I just didn’t want to come.”
Her lips thinned as if she were contemplating something to say, but, after a second of deliberation, drew me into a quick hug that felt like a bear trap. She was always physically strong, but working on commercial lobster boats had given her muscles her teenage self could only dream of.
“Thanks for showing up,” she said as she pulled back. “I couldn’t do this without you.” I eyed the house, my chest tight. “Yeah, sure. It’s just weird to be back here.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “It’ll only take a week tops.” The reminder eased the anxiety, but only slightly.
“How are you holding up?” I asked.
“Shitty, but what can you do?” She shrugged, then followed my line of sight to the house and back. “You can stay with me and Dave, you know. You don’t have to torture yourself by sleeping here.”
“It’ll get done faster if I’m here,” I said. “Besides, it’s bad enough I’m back in this hellhole. Last thing I need is to be another reason you kids are fighting.”
My hope was to make her laugh, or at least lightly exhale through her nose, but before she could react, the front door swung open.
“Jenny!” Dave shouted, “Jenny, is your brother here yet?”
I glared over Jenny’s shoulder as Dave descended the steps to stand next to her. His beady, far apart eyes peered at me from beneath furrowed brows. “William.”
“You know it’s Billy, Dave. William was my dad, but good to see you as always,” I said.
Dave was a few inches shorter than me, but wider with more muscle. A beard clung to his cheeks, scraggly and probably peppered with his last few meals. An uncharitable observation, I know, but a good chunk of the walnut between his ears contained far worse thoughts about me.
Dave caught sight of the cat carrier and scoffed.
“The hell is in there?” he asked.
“My emotional support cat,” I said.
Dave’s upper lip curled. “Let’s get this over with.” He turned and immediately trudged back into the house.
I looked at Jenny. “What's his problem? He feeling okay?” ...
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