The Pull-A Short Story

The orb shone its growing fullness on the waters, and she sensed the time had come for her long trek home. Swimming day and night, her flippers cut through the waters, pulling her to a destination eternally mapped in her mind. She could not ignore the quickening in her body as she tirelessly swam.

She had made this journey year after year, when the waters were warm and the air sultry and hot. The barnacles on her back, the freeloaders, were her only companions. Her gigantic mouth swallowed prey that crossed her path, and she paused only when nearing exhaustion.

The moon flirted with the waves on the horizon as the weary traveler reached her destination. As graceful as she was in the water, the land offered her no pity. The packed glistening sand shifted beneath her heavy bulk as she slowly labored to the dunes.

Ruth witnessed the massive leatherback rising from the waves like some creature from a bad horror film. She stood silently by, watching the turtle as she dug with her flippers, leveled her underside with the sandy earth and deposited her eggs. In eyes as ancient as the days, Ruth recognized the fear, and she understood the heaviness of the turtle’s burden, the sacrifice of the journey.

When she had discovered the miracle growing in her womb, Ruth had headed for the solace of her natal waters, the only home she had ever known. Her body was only a weakened shell now, the disease eating the life from her. Her baby would inherit this legacy, and as she stood watching the turtle, she made her decision.

She walked day and night for hours on the shore as the gentle summer waters grew chilly and the mild breezes became harsh winter gales. She traded her flowing cotton dresses for bulky sweaters. She spoke in stories and sang lullabies, barely audible above the roar of the wind, to the life growing inside of her. She nurtured it, but she did not name it. Like the mother turtle, she would never know this child.

The sea pulled Ruth from her recurring dream of swirling aqua waters and turtles with brilliant enameled shells. She arose from her bed, leaving behind her few personal items, and labored down to the beach, walking with bare feet that made deep impressions in the wet sand. She was unaware of the hot tears on her cheeks, the rush of water that ran down her legs into the foamy tide. The clouds shifted and lowered, as if holding out a hand to help pull the glowing moon from the depths of the ocean. Rays of light pierced through the clouds as the earth seemed to stand in wait. As if transfixed, lost in the awesomeness and the powerful pull of the moon and the lure of sea, she offered up her sacrifice.

With a sense of urgency and relief, Ruth waded into the frigid water and disappeared beneath the waves.