Daniel, at the Great Jetties

It was half an hour later when Daniel finally arrived at the Great Jetties, his heavy legs slowly pounding sluggishly to a stop. His cheeks were numb from the cold, and his vision was blurry and unsteady. Fatigue sat heavily on him as he panted and wheezed. His left side was burning from the long jog, and he pressed his palms there, bending slightly.

Dusk was gathering, and a lone bird crossed the grey sky.

Daniel looked around wildly, perspiration soaking him through. Fishermen loitered near their boats, some mending nets, and others smoking languidly, swapping stories. It was quiet except for the ocean and the lapping sounds of water against bobbing fishing boats. Now and then, the group of men near the Tim Boarman's red skiff made rowdy cheers as coins were being tossed out and lost in a fast game of dice.

Daniel panicked and checked his Casio. It said 5:32PM.

Father should have arrived by now.

His pulse raced from the strain of running and nervousness. He felt awful, queasy even, like the time when he ate a can of expired chillii tuna and vomited all over Mabel.

"Hey Danny boy! What's you doin' ere at this time 'o day?"

It was Mister Sweeney, the baitshop owner, with his gap-toothed smile. He was tinkering with the dredge with a lamp overhead, as light was failing fast.

Daniel liked the old man. He had kind eyes and and a permanent bristly stubble that could sand any surface smooth, or so Daniel thought. Mister Sweeney also taught him about rods, reels and casting flies.

"Mister! Has the 5:15 barge arrived? My father's on that boat!"

Mister Sweeney's grease-smudged hands froze over his ministrations. The smile disappeared as he dropped one of his spanners, losing it noisily to the mechanical bowels of his beloved machine. A shadow passed over his face as he regarded the boy with a deep concerned frown.

As long as Daniel could remember, that was the face people make at the mention of Father. His name was like the blight, and his heart bleeds just a little everytime they reacted so.

"Your pa, y'say?" "Yeah..."

Mister Sweeney was still not smiling and Daniel felt unease.

"...and mum's cooking up hell in the kitchen since morning!" Daniel laughed forcefully and then faltered as the older man's eyes burned into him. He dropped his gaze to the tops of his muddy boots. He felt his face turn red, a sick feeling deep in his belly.

Mister Sweeney looked away, stretching long and hard, his bones cracking. He pushed back his grimy woolen cap and rubbed his bald pate, a determined gleam in his rheumy old eyes.

"Well m'boy, I din mean t'speak ill o' your old man but I was one of them folks who thought twelve bleedin' years in the Counties weren't enough to make up for one dead Lorelei Trevors."

Lorelei Trevors, found tied, gagged and dead in Father's pickup truck.

Daniel wanted to punch the man, beat the living daylights out of him until there was nothing left but blood and pieces of mangled flesh everywhere.

"I-I think I'd l-look for h-h-him elsewhere, M-Mister Sween-ney!"

He stumbled away from the old man and ran along the wooden walkway, his boots hammering loudly on the damp planks. He ducked behind one of the boats, slipping out of sight, squatting in the shadows. He buried his hot face in his hands, thin shoulders heaving in unvented anger.

The briny wind teased his mousy hair, lifting them in tufts. He remembered how thoroughly he combed it with his fingers during recess, and how the water dripped from his hair into his starched collar.

Daniel sobbed, a large ugly sound tearing from his chest. He had faithfully ticked off days in the calender for the past few years, and today was finally the day. All the imaginary meetings in his mind were not supposed to be like this: Mister Sweeney hates him, mum's waiting at home alone with her pretty floral dress, and he could not find Father.

In the distant, the lighthouse glimmered into life, throwing Hope into the restless sea. All along the coastal area, houses lit up as families sat down for dinner. Not this family, he thought, and the waves seemed to sigh in agreement.