She was too far out for Aunt Betsy to hear her. “Mama! Come back!” Her tears mixed with the salt water on her soft cheeks. “Daniel?”
A few more strokes and Eliza stopped swimming. She was farther out than usual, bobbing about in the salty water. Before her life changed, she and her family would come to the beach four times a year. At the start of each season. A holiday, her parents had called it.
But this was no holiday now.
Clouds grew darker in the distance. A storm was on its way, which meant her time at the beach was about to be cut short. She swam out a little farther. Not yet. She didn’t want to go back. Again she looked out across the ocean. If God had her mother and brother, then maybe He would give them back to her. Out here on the waves.
If only she could yell loud enough.
“Daniel?” Eliza caught a mouthful of seawater and she started to cough. “Mama, where are you?”
Suddenly beneath the water something grabbed her legs. Not a fish or a shark, because it didn’t have teeth. It was strong and warm and it had a terrible hold on her.
“Stop!” she yelled but her voice got lost on the wind. What is it? What’s happening? She put her face underwater and opened her eyes. And that’s when she saw the terrible truth.
A monster didn’t have hold of her legs.
The current did.
Watch out for the undertow, Eliza. That’s what Aunt Betsy always told her. Don’t swim out too far or the water will take you away forever.
“No!” Eliza screamed. “Let me go!” She could kick her way out of this current. She was a strong swimmer. She moved her feet in frantic bursts, and made big grabs at the water.
But the ocean wouldn’t let her go.
The fight was too much for her so she stopped. Stopped kicking and pulling at the sea and she turned on her back. Suddenly the scared feeling inside her melted away. “You guide me in paths of righteousness”—her words were quieter now—“for Your name’s sake.”
Storm clouds moved overhead. Dark gray layers and flashes of lightning. If Aunt Betsy was calling, Eliza couldn’t hear her. The only sounds were the wind and waves and thunder. A voice called to her from the horizon. Her mama’s voice.
Whenever you’re scared, Lizzie, recite Psalm Twenty-Three. God is with you. He is always with you.
“Even though I walk through—” A wave washed over her face and knocked her deep into the water. Again Eliza fought the pull of the current, and finally she pushed her face free. Breathe, she told herself. Breathe while you still can.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death”—each word was a gasp, an attempt at staying alive—“I will fear no evil. For You are with me; You comfort me—”
Another wave.
“Mama!” Eliza clawed and kicked, but it took all her effort just to keep her head above the ocean. “Mama, help me!”
Then she remembered something. If she could see God at the back side of the ocean, if that’s where her mother and brother lived, then that’s where she wanted to be, too. This wasn’t a bad thing happening to her. God was calling her home. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Yes, that was it. If she gave herself to the current, she could be finished with Aunt Betsy and the Palace and her terrible father. Maybe the thing pulling at her, taking her under was God. Anointing her head. Making her cup overflow.
She cried out louder this time. “Surely… goodness and love… will follow me…”
The sea was rougher, but the current no longer grabbed at her. Finally, she looked back at the shore. Aunt Betsy and the Palace guards were waving their hands at her. Eliza had to finish the Psalm because the best part was at the end.
Other people ran toward Aunt Betsy. Tourists, probably. Stay away from the tourists, Aunt Betsy always said. You’re not for sale. A bigger wave knocked her under and Eliza used all her strength to get back to the surface. Mama, I’m coming for you. God, help me find them.
She gasped and spit the seawater from her mouth. Her legs and arms were too heavy to move, and her words came out like a whisper now. “Mama! Daniel?” She was too tired to yell.