Discovering a Shore and a Castaway

Author’s Note: This is the fifth part of a series about Farren’s journey through a limbo world where everyone is trying to reach the peak of a mountain but have a rope tied to their ankle. Catch up by reading Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4.

After leaving the company of the hanged man, Farren continued to walk and ball up his rope. It was a slow and arduous process, and the slack he managed was growing.

The further away from the mountain Farren traveled, the fewer people he encountered. Additionally, the ones he did meet were having less trouble with their rock and rope. As Farren noticed a pattern as he traveled, the fewer problems people had with their stones the sillier his plan to find his rock seemed. He eventually started wondering why he was doing it himself. Then he remembered how slow the progress Sarah was making the first day he was here and how hopeless the hanged man seemed.

Day after day Farren grouped up rope slowly and meditatively as the old balls of slack rolled behind him like ducklings. Each traveler he passed questioned his sanity, but he was confident he was on the right track. What he wasn’t sure about though was how long the rope was and when he would eventually reach his boulder. His rope balls numbered into the teens and didn’t seem to be stopping. The only positive thing he could think of was that he wouldn’t have to use logs to roll his boulder around as Sarah had initially suggested. He had enough slack that the rope itself could work as a rolling mechanism.

The downside was he didn’t think that his rope balls would be able to navigate between some of the thick trees he had started at near the base of the mountain. He thought about these problems often on his daily walks following his rope. Each night he sketched out ideas in the sand of how he might move his boulder up the steep sides of the mountain along with play with the rope to find more efficient ways to wrap them and roll them. The pattern and habits were comfortable for him. Farren knew he would have lost track of time if his balls didn’t document its passing so well.

The comfort of the day to day all came to an end when the forest thinned to nothing, and he found himself picking up his rope on a sandy beach. Farren looked around, and the shore was expansive and empty. If it was the same one he had started at he wouldn’t be able to tell except for the lack of a line of people. The beach was littered with wet ropes coming out of the water. Each one was coated in sand as it crawled into the forest.

He followed his line, picking it up loosely and unsurprisingly he found that it went into the water. Out of curiosity he tasted the water, it was salty, and his mind came to a conclusion he wasn’t expecting. This body of water was an ocean. The realization filled his heart with dread.

He looked at the nearly two dozen balls of rope that were sitting behind him on the beach and asked himself one last question before giving up. He pushed his newest ball into the ocean wading in up to his knees and keeping the ball of rope ahead of him. The entire time the ball rolled on the sandy floor of the sea. He pulled the ball back to the shore and laid down in the sand.

Hopeless he looked up and the clear blue sky. His rope balls didn’t float, and there was no way he would be able to swim across the sea especially with them dragging him down like an anchor.

As he laid on the sand, he thought about how he would handle this new and unfortunate situation. Without much luck, he eventually was sweating from the sun and rolled his slack into the shade under a tree where he could cool down and rest. He looked at the expanse of the ocean and the endless shore, and he noticed that there were a lot of logs laying in the sand.

After he stopped sweating, he let out enough slack to freely move around the beach without his balls of rope following him. Farren approached a log and inspected it. The wood was different than the trees that lined the shore. It was smoother and lighter in color than the ones in the forest he just exited. He didn’t know what this meant, but it gave him a little bit of hope.

Before he could invest more thought into the exotic wood, he heard something splashing in the water. Looking around Farren noticed a person swimming towards the shore. Had they been there and swam out without my noticing? he wondered.

He walked towards the person to make sure they were okay. It was a woman holding on to a smooth light log as a flotation device. Walked up to the shore she dropped the wood on the sand when it was clear of the water. As Farren approached she laid down in exhaustion leaning against the soaked piece of wood. He announced his arrival in an effort not to startle her.

“Hey,” she responded giving Farren a small welcoming wave that looked like it took all the energy remaining in her.

When he was close enough to speak without shouting, he noticed that her breathing was heavy and her white clothes were soaked showing her body underneath. “How far did you swim?” He asked looking out at the see to avert his gaze from her near nudity.

“The whole thing,” she said starting to catch more of her breath.

Farren looked at her in shock. “Really?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” the response came as if it was the only reasonable answer. “It wasn’t like the gods who run this place were going to let me drown.”

Farren couldn’t believe his ears, he stared at her in shock then realized he might be making her uncomfortable and looked back at the ocean. “How long did it take?”

He heard her let out a sigh. “I don’t know,” she answered, “Maybe a year, it felt like forever. I have no clue why I did it. But there was no mountain on that side of the water. My rope leads away from the water, so I figured I had to cross it.” She stood up and stood next to Farren to see what he was looking at. “You’re the first human I’ve seen in all that time.”

Farren thought about it, “Yeah I guess I would be.” Recently he was passing people on a monthly basis, but that was likely because he was traveling, as some said, against traffic. Not to mention that he was on land and it was easier to seek people out if he heard movement.

“What are you looking at?” She asked not able to find anything of interest.

“Nothing it’s just that,” Farren didn’t know how to put the situation into words. “Your clothes are wet.” He gestured at her shirt.

“Yeah, of course, they’re wet; I just got out of the,” she looked down and realized the issue. She blushed lightly and crossed her arms to cover her chest. “Sorry about that. As I said, haven’t seen a lot of people.” She let out a small and confident laugh. “I’m Gesa.”

“Nice to meet you,” he responded, “I’m Farren.”

“So where’s the mountain?” She asked turning to face the forest.

“Well, you’re definitely headed the right direction,” Farren said. Counting up the balls he had stored in the shade he added, “It’s going to be over a year’s walk at least.”

“That’s fine, at least I won’t have to hold onto a log the whole time and have nightmares about letting go and drowning,” she said with a laugh.

Farren shuddered at the idea then realized he was about to have to face the same thing. “I have a problem,” he said.

“You and me both,” she responded lifting the rope that was attached to her foot.

Farren laughed and saw that she was smiling too, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But my specific problem is I have to get all those balls of rope across the ocean.” He gestured at the balls he had left sitting under the tree.

“That’s all slack?” She asked in amazement. “How on earth did you wind up with that much slack? What am I doing wrong?”

Farren explained why he had balls of rope and was headed towards his rock instead of up the mountain.

When he finished Gesa’s clothes were dry, and they were both leaning against the log. “You’re going to need a boat. But I don’t know how you’re going to build one. I tried, but I couldn’t find a way to hold the logs together. Once I realized we were effectively immortal here, I decided to swim across.”

“I guess I have enough rope to tie the logs together.”

“Yeah, I’d say you have enough. Can I see them?” She asked while getting up.

“Sure,” he said not knowing what would be so interesting about over a dozen balls of rope.

The two got up and walked towards the balls of rope. However, they only made it a few steps before Gesa’s line went taut and she couldn’t move it anymore. She bent over, picked it up and tugged at it.

“Shit it’s stuck. Hold on.” She tugged at it some more. Gesa buried her feet in the sand to get traction. After a few minutes of trying without much success, Farren lent her a hand. The two of them pulled at the rope without making any progress until the backs of their shirts were dripping with sweat.

“I think it’s stuck,” Farren said when they decided to take a break.

Gesa didn’t say anything she just sat in the sand and tugged lightly on the rope by moving her foot. Her forehead was wrinkled in distress.

“We’ll try again in a bit, I’m sure we’ll get it unstuck in a bit,” he said attempting to cheer her up.

They caught their breath and tried again. But after only thirty minutes Gesa gave up and plopped herself in the sand. “It’s pointless. It’s stuck at the bottom of the sea.”

“What?” Farren responded confused about her conclusion. “Why do you say that? Maybe it’s between some trees and someone will loosen it.” He had passed by his fair share of those in his time here and had cleared out every one.

“No, it’s not. There’s nothing on that side of the ocean. The trees thin and beyond that is desert. There’s no way a rock could get stuck. It’s been dragging along the bottom of the ocean, and it’s stuck there. I’m sure of it. No one is going to pass it, and no one is going to unstick it.” She looked longingly away from the ocean. “I can’t even make it to the shade of those trees, let alone the mountain. I’m going to be stuck on this beach in the sun for the rest of eternity.”

Seeing how upset she was Farren added, “I could bring you some leaves you could make yourself some shade.”

Gesa laughed at his sentiment, “Shade isn’t my real problem.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Farren looked at her ankle and the wet sandy rope that had come out of the ocean only a few meters away.

“So, um I was wondering,” Gesa said and for the first time, Farren saw worry and embarrassment on her face. “Do you think you might want help building that boat? And that you might have some room on it for me?” Then quickly adding, “I think I’m going to have to go find my rock too.”

Farren beamed with excitement, “Yeah, totally! You can help and come with me. I’ll probably need it.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon drawing out design ideas in the sand. As dusk came Farren brought his balls of rope to the shore and built a bed for Gesa, then another for himself.

Before he fell asleep, Gesa said, “This all kinda sucks, but I’m glad you were here, and I’m glad I can sleep on solid ground tonight. Even though I still have to listen to those damn waves.”

Farren smiled, agreed. He fell asleep remembering how pleasant it was to have someone to traveling with him again.

Author’s Note: This is the fifth part of a series about Farren’s journey through a limbo world where everyone is trying to reach the peak of a mountain but have a rock tied to their ankle. Read the next part here: