There’s a Little Green in the Ocean

Harbored Stillness – Izzy Brown

There’s a Little Green in the Ocean

Emma Hessler

July 2, 2025 is the date shown on Boot’s fishing calendar. July 2. Today marks the anniversary of Boot’s marriage with his wife. He misses her everyday. He plans to drive down to his favorite place, the low cliff off of tuna trails. It’s where they first met 12 years ago. Boot had been staying at his woodland cabin with his best friend, Oliver. He was just planning to tell Oliver that he might go fishing near tuna trails, he didn’t feel like explaining much, it was a very sensitive topic. And maybe he would go fishing. Boot quickly strapped his favorite rod and hook onto his bag before throwing it into the back of  his car. “I’m off to fish, Oliver, I’ll be back by tomorrow night!” Boot quickly shouts through the door before jumping into his car. 

Boot is only 30 minutes away from the spot. He decided to pick up a bouquet of beautiful and fragrant red and pink roses to set underneath the tree where they had met. Roses were her favorite. Boot’s mind wanders around that moment, where his wife and he sat under the tree and watched the sunset. Before long, he arrives down the dry and rough dirt-sand mixture road. He stops and parks his car a few minutes away before slinging his backpack over his shoulder and walking the rest of the trail. A few minutes pass and Boot can finally see the big oak tree shading over the low cliff. What a sight. Boot thinks to himself. He sets his bag down against a nearby barrel. What is this old thing doing here? Boot gives the old barrel a curious kick with the inside of his shoe, and a small splash of water drenches the side of his jeans. 

Boot sets the bouquet down underneath the tree and sits down. He stays a while, pondering about what life would be like if his wife were still there. He sighs a sad sigh to himself. He knows he’ll never find another woman like her.

By the time Boot had finally gathered himself, the sun had moved at least halfway across the sky. It still sits high above the horizon, but will sink down into the waters in a few hours. Boot is reminded of the time he sat under this very tree and watched the sunset with his wife. “How beautiful” Boot says aloud, as if his wife were still sitting next to him, and would respond. He stares off, not into the distance, but into the stunning swirling waters in front of him. Many people say that the ocean is blue, but Boot could see faint streaks of green in between waves. The ocean is too scenic to just be a big, solid area of blue. It moves in a beautiful rhythm, and has veins of green that seem to swim underneath the surface. “There’s a little green in the ocean” Boots whispers towards the beach, and in reply the soft waves lap against the shore. There are no people around for miles.

It’s an hour until sunset, and Boot decides he should explore the area before settling down to watch the bright orange ball dip behind the horizon. He skids his heels in the sand. Gentle sprays of the ocean mist his body. He walks for what seems to be hours. Boot is fatigued and the glistening cave in front of him might as well have been a bed and blanket. The sun had been intensely shining its hot rays on him the whole walk. This shady cave is the perfect retreat. I can watch the sunset on my way back. I’ll only stay here for a bit and should be able to watch the last moments of the sunset under the tree. Boot lays down in a shallow pool of water inside the cave and rests his eyes. It was perfect. The cool salt water soothes his burnt back, and the cave protects him from the harsh beams of the sun. He thought he wasn’t tired enough to doze off, but when the faint smell of lavender wafted in the air around him, he couldn’t help but let his consciousness drift away. How odd, lavender. His eyes grow heavy. A stabbing grip snatches Boot out of his slumber and drags him deeper into the water in an instant. The unknown figure ripped him from his peace in a fit of anger and, almost, revenge? In his last breaths, all Boot could think about was the overwhelming smell of lavender, and the sunset he never got to watch.

Ever since she’s been swimming closer and closer to the surface, Marina kept on bugging her to be careful. They’ll see you. Marina had hissed. They’ll fish you out of the water and filet you. Her sister had told her all these things, but she always exaggerated. “I’ll be fine”. Pearl said under her breath. She felt that affirming that she’ll be okay will ensure her safety. She didn’t understand why her sister was so strict about swimming near the surface. All the other mermaids did it. So why couldn’t she? Well, who’s stopping me? I can go near the surface if I want, actually, I’ll go beyond the surface. Pearl always wanted to prove her sister wrong. This would be her chance. If she were to go to the surface and return  unarmed, surely her sister will trust her to go closer to the surface unbothered. She did feel a little guilty. She’s never been above the water before. As a compromise, Pearl quickly carved a message on a leaf of seaweed with the pointy end of her seashell charm and set it on her sister’s favorite flower necklace. Pearl never understood why her sister loved those bunchy purple flowers so much. They smelled so strong. 

Pearl swam as fast as she could to the surface, her green tail was almost getting tired, and she never got tired. Pearl leaps out of the water and far from the ocean onto the beach. There was a low cliff, more like a heightened area of land. Pearl climbed up and sat on a large rock. She looked out at the horizon. She then looked behind her, and saw the tip of the sun rising up. It was sunset. She then looked back at the ocean. How beautiful. She thought to herself. She’d never seen the ocean from above, let alone the sky. She knew why her sister came to the surface so often. Well, for one, to get more of those purple flowers, but also, to see this view. No people came here often, so it should be normally safe. 

She felt bad. Her sister must’ve read the note by now. Pearl reminded herself to bring her sister back some of her favorite purple flowers. All of a sudden, what she thought wouldn’t happen, happened. From afar, she could clearly make up the figure of a man walking down the trail towards her. She had to hide. But where? There was a tall wooden container that the fishermen used to store their wine placed behind her. It looked old, and sort of dirty, but what other choice does she have? Pearl can’t go back to the ocean. Not yet. She still hasn’t gotten the purple flowers for her sister yet. She managed to drag her legless body across to her hiding spot. It wasn’t too difficult. Her smooth scales slid easily across the fine strands of grass. She lifted the lid, and climbed inside, just before the wandering man was able to notice her. 

It’s been a few moments. She should’ve just gone back to the ocean. It was filthy inside. She couldn’t see much, except for a small slit at the top. Her view of the ocean is blocked by a sharply curved rod. She hears walking, and eventually the footsteps fade away. She must be safe…? She waits a little extra just in case before crawling out. Finally, fresh air! She knows she has to find those flowers now. It was like a magic genie had heard her wishes. Out in front of her, a fresh bouquet of roses were laid under a tree. They weren’t purple, but pink should be similar enough. What a view Pearl thinks to herself. She can’t help but admire the beauty of the ocean from the surface. She places her hand on her chest in admiration. It feels…empty! Her seashell necklace? Pearl realized it must’ve fallen off while inside the container. She hurries back over and reaches inside, but she finds that it’s difficult to reach deep inside and hold a big bouquet. She reaches at the wrong angle, and falls into the barrel.

Frozen by fear, Pearl shook at the thought of leaving the barrel. What would she do if someone saw her? Nothing. There would be absolutely nothing she could do, she would simply be caught and eaten. She knew that she should wait out for at least two or three days, just to be safe. Fishermen tend to only stick around this area for a day.  Locked inside for a while, Pearl remembers how her sister told her that if a human were to catch her, she’d hunt them down and drown them. Pearl knew deep down that her sister would kill any fisherman who she even suspected of harming her.

After what feels like hours of being locked inside this wooden prison, Pearl starts to think that she may never escape. She could technically leave, if her mind let her. She was trapped, and she was her own captor. Images of the horrors that could occur if she left too soon were on a constant repeat in her mind. At least she got her seashell necklace, and fell in with the beautiful bouquet. She thinks about how her sister would have loved the flowers. Her sister. She remembers a stern lecture her sister gave her once. Pearl had mentioned leaving the ocean and Marina warned her about the dangers of the cruel fisherman who would easily be able to catch her. The reason her sister was so set on scaring Pearl about the dangers of the outside world is because a close friend of hers was actually taken by a cruel fisherman and turned into sushi. She knew that her sister must be looking for her by now, worried sick. She wouldn’t let any fisherman get to her. Pearl knew that Marina would go as far as to kill a fisherman herself.

It’s been days since Boot has left. Oliver knows that he’d be back by Thursday morning. He said so himself. Worried, Oliver realizes he should’ve driven to tuna trails with his friend. He didn’t want to at the time, he’s never really liked that place. “That place is run-down and sketchy, I don’t know why he likes it so much down there!” Oliver yells aloud to the emptiness of his friend’s cabin. He isnt used to how lonely it is there. Overwhelmed with guilt, he finally takes action and heads outside to his beat down, red truck. It’s cloudy outside, a nasty storm will be right behind him. 

Oliver finally makes it down the rough, muddy road. The storm had caught up to him, he knew he had to search for his friend in this violent storm, but that was the least of his worries. He was completely fixated on finding his friend. He sees a leafy tree swaying its big, heavy branches in rhythm with the storm. He doesnt think about how dangerous it could be, and parks under it. Oliver rips the car door open and takes a look around. A red ribbon catches his eye. It’s attached to a big, leather backpack. It’s Boot’s backpack. His sharp hooks and long fishing rod are still strapped in. What in the world was he doing down here, if not fishing? Oliver briefly snapped out of his fit of determination to think. Who does he think he is? Lying to me, saying he’s fishing. He didn’t even take his rod out! I’ll be having a long talk with this guy when I find him. Oliver turns to the raging ocean. The giant white waves harshly crash against the rocky sand. His confidence slightly diminishes at the sight of it. He realized that his friend might not be okay. Angry with himself, he yells tragically and beats his fists into the ground, as if the land around him might feel bad for taking his friend, and decides to return him. He then gets up, and walks over to Boot’s flapping ribbon. His bag is propped against an old barrel. Oliver takes a look at the ribbon. 1st place winner, tuna county fishing competition, Boot Jackson. Oliver grips the ribbon in his hands and leans his head on the barrel. It smells disgusting. Like rotting fish that had been sitting for too long in cold water not cold enough. And, strangely enough, he gets a whiff of roses. Then he sobs. Overwhelmed and afraid, he continuously wails, hoping that some miracle would occur. The sudden and nonstop booms of thunder further overwhelm him. He gets up, his old white tank top sticks to his skin. Even in the storm, there were more tears on his face than raindrops. Frustrated, he kicks the nearly rotting barrel over, spilling whatever was inside over the side of the supratidal zone and onto the shore, sure to be quickly washed away by the roaring waves. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind brutally knocks Oliver over into the stagnant water that was just inside of the barrel. His shirt that was just wet with fresh rain, now reeks of marine life and…roses. He feels hopeless. He props himself against the head of the barrel, still sitting in the marinated ocean water. He looks beyond the low cliff he was on, and amidst the grayish appearance that the storm created around him, he sees a sliver of shiny green slip from the shore into the ocean and underneath the harsh waves. What is that? He thinks to himself. His gut tells him there’s something fishy about this place, like something was hunting him. He is only able to see a flash of dazzling green before it disappears into the wild waves. I’m never going to be able to find Boot in this storm. Oliver realizes the severity of the situation. He decided he should come back with a rescue team. His determination returns, and he gets up to run over to his truck. He feels like an injured bunny being stalked by a hungry wolf. Something definitely wasn’t right. Before he can get more than a few paces away, sharp nails, almost like claws, grip him from behind and drag him toward the shore. He thrashes wildly, but his efforts are no use. He gets pulled under the viscous blanket of white. He is only pulled deeper underwater, where it is all blue, and all he can smell is the saltiness of the deep sea, and bunches of lavender.