“Twelve years,” he thought to himself, “Twelve long years since I left home.” He stood on the deck of the ship, turning this over in his mind. Maxwell Luthor VanVendrig was standing on the deck of the ship destined to bring him back to the home he had abandoned long ago. Twelve years ago he had fled the small town in which he had grown up in, secretly joining the crew of a hauling ship. He had let a few of his closest friends know the time he was leaving, and as the ship had pulled away from the dock they ran after it, crying out various farewells. “Goodbye Max! Have an adventure!” “You bastard! Running away without taking me with!” “Stay safe, and don’t forget us!” “I haven’t forgotten you,” he mused. “Especially not you…” Lena McCorskova. One of the local girls, and if not the prettiest or best dancer, doubtlessly the most artfully inclined. She was always making sketches of whatever happened to be about in her notebook, and writing small couplets as captions beneath them. And that was only one of her intriguing qualities in the eyes of Maxwell. She had long hair that looked black, but if you looked closely was simply an extremely dark brown. Under certain light it was possible to detect a sheen of red permeating through it. Her eyes were hard, and oddly colored, with a watery green that sparked with many colors when she was excited or angry. Her skin was milky white, burning light pink in the summer. Some of the other boys said that she looked strange, but Max always beat them until they changed their opinion, or at least learned to hide it. He thought the combination of her features and the light, flowery dresses that she was always wearing made her seem exotic and supernatural, like an elf that had decided to take up life among humans.
“Yes, it has been a long time,” he murmured. “But now I’ll see you again, and how much all of you have changed.” The island was coming up, and he returned to his cabin to finish packing up his few belongings. Some clean, practical and thoroughly without airs clothes, a pair of dark leather boots, a journal, the hunting knife his old captain had given him when he had left his service, and a copy of the Bible, blessed by the priest of his old parish. This was all his worldy possessions, not including a fairly heavy bag of money that was hanging from his belt. A member of the crew called out that they had reached land, and he straighted up, and walked through the corridors up to the deck of the ship.
Looking out at the dock, he saw that his letter had arrived in time, and he had a greeting party. John MacCutcheon, Phineas Franklin, and Gerry Ladlen; his best pals in the world when he had left. And down the road came Lena, walking onto the dock as the boat was made fast by the crew. She looked almost completely the same as he remembered her, except maybe a bit taller and more slender. A slight thinning of the face, which only improved her beauty, he thought to himself. And then it hit him, in strong, unquenchable waves, like the ones washing in from the sea. He had missed her. More than anything else. He knew what the feeling deep inside him that he had lived with for years was now. He finally recognized it for what it was, namely, a deep, aching loneliness. More accurately, the absence of Lena McCorskova in his life. And now he had her, and he was finally going to be content. He laughed out loud and barged down the ramp like a drunken man, staggering with the shifting of the boat and the ruckus in his heart.
He clasped hands and then embraced in a bear hug each of his old friends. Then he came to Lena. His eyes swiftly ran down her face and her body, and then they moved into a close, strong hug. As they parted, he noticed a glint of gold on her finger. He stared at it, as it revealed itself to be a ring. John lifted up his hand, laughing as he showed off his own matching ring, and stated, “Married last August! What a surprise, eh? That she chose an old ruffian like me.”
For a couple seconds, no one moved. Then he replied, slowly and carefully, “Well. That is a surprise. I had no idea. Congratulations.” They closed in around him, and the group began to walk up towards the town.
That night, there was a returning party at the MacCutcheon home. Many old friends had gathered once they heard the news, and at eleven o’clock the party had still not even begun to break up. However, Max took his chance to have a few private words with Lena once most of the others had started to feel the effects of the beer that had been consumed all evening, and they slipped out into the night. He asked, “Mind if we walk while we talk?” She nodded, and they went out onto a path leading into the woods that started at the back of their property.
They walked in silence for a while, and then Maxwell began to speak. He had some difficulty finding what words he wanted, though, and just choked out some garbled words. He was trying to form his thoughts into coherent words, when Lena spoke up. “Max…Please don’t say ‘I love you’ because if you do, that will make everything I’ve done be pointless, useless, and impossible to take back. I’ve married, made a name for myself under his name, and begun to really live life. And if you say you love me, that will turn all my plans upside down and then I have no idea what I’d do.” “But Lena…” he murmured, “That’s all that I can think of to say…”
He grabbed her in a tight embrace, kissed her on the lips, she returned it for a moment, then broke away sobbing. She started to run, losing her shoes in a mad dash to stay ahead of him. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the darkness. He chased her through the forest, and then they broke out into a field. There was a ring of stones standing in the middle, and a hole leading down into the earth at a slope. She dashed through the ring, and swiftly ran down into the hole. He followed a couple seconds behind. Once inside the hole, he witnessed her beating on a stone table, crying out “Father! Mother! Please! Let me come back to the fold! I realize now this was a mistake! I am not meant for life among mortals, for love! Please, let me return!” Her hair was flying about like in a high wind, and her eyes were sparking brighter than he had ever seen them before. When nothing happened, and she saw that he had followed her down into the cave, she cried out and pushed past him, knocking him into the wall. He recovered, and raced out to follow her.
As they reached the other side of the field, he became aware of a dull roaring. The Great Drain, the waterfall which all the mountain streams gathered to supply. They drew closer and closer, until she was standing on a large stone at the edge of the river. “Please, Lena…just come with me, we can try to make it alright,” he begged. “No! No! Stay away!” she shouted to make herself heard over the roar of the waterfall. “Stay back! Don’t come any closer!” she cried as she shuffled backward to match his forward pace. “I don’t want-“ Her words were cut off as she slipped on the wet rock, and fell into the river. He lunged forward, grabbed at her hand, pulled it out of the water and saw that he was gripping a branch. He looked down the river, saw her floating for one last second, then she went over the waterfall. Though he knew he was too late to save her, he jumped in after her anyway.
