Ten Feet

• Inara Ahmed, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2021

“Where are the fish today?” wondered Laxman studying the water curiously. The Sri Lankan waters were renowned for exotic fish; abundant and scrumptious. An indulgent parent, Laxman kept the largest fish for his two children. Suddenly, the waves behaved peculiarly. His palms started to sweat. The boat quivered with fear then vehemently shook. “Help!” he whispered, thinking of his family.The waves cascaded incessantly into the boat, always living and never hesitating. They mercilessly
disintegrated it like chocolate flakes immersed in milk.

Laxman was amongst the depth of the sea. He kept calm trying to swim back to shore, but the hungry waves inhaled and exhaled. Serendipitously, he caught the back of a large wave. Steam rose as his cold body flopped onto the burning sand; his heart nearly plunged out of him. Laxman’s eyes fluttered and closed.

Iman sat crossed legged, fastidiously scrutinising the diverse seashells he and his older sister Mindi procured from the beach. Although he was a light-hearted young man, he took seriously the task of selecting shells to give to his sister who in turn passed them to their mother. They were to be sold proudly alongside their father’s catch.
Laxman entered; drenched. “I’ll explain what happened at lunch” he announced.

As the story ended, the family looked out from their hut to sea. All that was in sight was sand. In the distance they saw something rising from the horizon, growing in size. They froze. “A Tsunami,” they gasped simultaneously, watching in terror. By the time it was close to shore, the gargantuan wave was ten feet tall. It strode towards the village like a king demonstrating power. They ran for their lives as if playing hide and seek; but against a lethal wave. The wave rushed through the house like it was late for a big event. They held onto something sturdy and closed their eyes. Finally, the wave restored, but stole many things. Planks of wood, shells and debris scattered.

Laxman surveyed his surroundings, hoping to find his family, safe from the treachery of the ocean. To his rapture, Laxman’s ears pricked up, like a rabbit as he heard whimpering. He followed the noise and crept anxiously. “Iman,” he said. He hugged him like his long-lost friend. Iman’s head lowered “all my hard work is ruined,” he paused, “let’s find mum and Mindi.” They desperately searched the rooms and under the broken rooftops. “Mum!” Iman screamed, “Mindi!” They all embraced.

After the family exulted, they stood outside, devastated to see the state of their land. The damage was indiscriminate. They saw the villager’s blue faces, filled with sorrow. Shedding tears for lost ones. Vacant stares. Inconsolable feelings.

Suddenly, a sparkle in the sand caught Iman’s eye. He bent down. His favourite shell defied the tsunami. “We will be okay dad, one shell at a time,” Iman reassured his dad. Laxman met his son’s eyes. He held his hand. Gripped it tight and then looked back at the ocean.