The backdoor was propped open when he arrived, but he was hesitant to go in. A few days before graduation, the store was bound to be full of anxious students and whiny parents. His boss, Gary, had been in a bad mood ever since his date had stood him up last week. Gary was trying to play it off, but James was close with the IT guy who was close with Gary, who had finally worked up the courage to ask out his bank teller only to be stood up at a Brothers Osborne concert. Gary didn’t even like country music, but he stood through the entire show.
James Barley smiled at this image. He checked the time on his phone: five of nine. He shook his head and took a deep breath as he pulled open the heavy aluminum door, which swung shut behind him and bounced a few times against the cardboard in its frame.
After clocking in, James made his way through the connected coffee shop and into the mall of the campus bookstore. He was grateful to find only the manager working and no customers yet browsing in the aisles. Hank, the manager, was a twenty-year veteran employee and graduate of the college. He smiled through tired eyes and nodded to James, who made his way through rows of shelves to meet Hank behind the register.
“Morning Hank.” James smiled.
“Morning.” Hank leaned forward on a paper cutter and sliced through a thick stack of flyers for the upcoming summer concert series.
“What are we listening to today?” James indicated the jazz music playing through the overhead sound system.
“Ahh, I actually just threw on the first Miles Davis album from the top of my stack. You’re bound to either love it or hate it. On the Corner it’s called.”
“It sounds pretty bizarre.”
“Yah!” Hank snorted. “Super mixed reception when it came out. You can go ahead and pick up from where you left off yesterday.”
James followed Hank’s directive to the back of the store, where a bin of miscellaneous appliances sat waiting to be shelved and zapped into the bookstore’s online inventory. Leaning over the bin with a clipboard was a French major named Mary-Kate Boisson. Mary-Kate was a member of James’ Christian fellowship, and her employment at the bookstore could only be a bonus in his eyes. She leaned back from the bin as James approached. She turned to face him, and her long brown hair curtained along the bin’s top wire.
“Good morning, Mary-Kate.”
“Good morning.” She smiled at him.
“Thanks for getting us started. Hey, I didn’t see you at the meeting last night. You feelin’ alright?”
“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m fine thank you. Just totally swamped with exams coming up and whatnot.”
“I hear ya.” James reached into the bin and pulled out a stack of phone chargers. “Well, you didn’t miss much. Just a lot of ranting from John about the parables. Pass me those headphones, would ya?”
“Is he still on Matthew? Personally, I find all those analogies to be a bit redundant. The kingdom of heaven is this… the kingdom of heaven is that…”
“Yeah, well, I guess we can understand why he wants to delay the beheading of his namesake.”
Mary-Kate laughed, and James smiled as he watched her bring a charging cable over to a shelf of matching products. Her laugh was somewhat musical, and it paired nicely with whatever Miles Davis song was playing. As Mary-Kate returned from the shelf, James pretended to be focused on his clipboard as he raced to think of something clever to say.
“Remember Mary-Kate,” He gathered the last of the appliances from the bin, “as long as the earth endures, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter…”
“…day and night will never cease.” Mary-Kate finished for him. “That’s always been my favorite from Genesis. But enough of the bible…”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Hey!” Gary, the director emerged from his office. “Good morning you two. Stay focused alright? It’s a big week!”
The two nodded obediently as Gary puffed out his chest and carried a manilla envelope to Hank over at the register. James waited until Gary was out of range and then turned sharply back to Mary-Kate.
“What do you mean, enough of the bible?”
“Just for now I mean!” She laughed again. “Who are some of your favorite poets… since you seem so keen on recitation today?”
“Oh umm… I don’t know…” James nearly dropped his clipboard. “I guess I’ve been listening to a lot of ‘90’s rock lately. Maybe… Scott Stapp from Creed.”
“That doesn’t count!”
“What do you mean?”
“C’est de la merde! Music can’t be poetry!”
“You’re joking right? You must be joking.”
“I mean,” Mary-Kate let her clipboard swing to her side as she looked at James, “I get that lyrics are a form of poetry, but once you add music to the words the definition becomes pretty opaque, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I don’t know. What about Strange Fruit?”
“What about it?”
“Written as a poem and later adapted to music by Billie Holiday.”
“Then it was a poem that became music.”
“I don’t know Mary-Kate…”
“Agree to disagree!”
James sensed the finality in her tone, and as the two wrapped up their inventory checklists, he made sure to give her some space. Half an hour later, as his shift was winding down, James looked around only to realize that Mary-Kate had already left. He let out a curse word under his breath and instinctually crossed himself with a Hail Mary. He had been intending to see if Mary-Kate wanted to meet up with him later. It had been six months since they started working together and not once had he found the gall to ask her out. As he clocked out, he said goodbye to Hank and Gary, feeling an ironic twinge of guilt for having smiled earlier at Gary’s misfortune in the dating world.
A band was playing in the courtyard right outside of the Campus Center. A fair breeze rose from the bayside, propelling students along their paths with the promise of good weather for those who had finished exams, were done with work for the semester or who otherwise just didn’t feel like wasting the clear night inside. Amid the temperate ambiance and pop-punk music, James Barley stood thinking about what Mary-Kate had said about music not being poetry. He listened to several songs and socialized with a few of his fellows, but his eyes swung to the harbor. He gazed in silent prayer, blessing the boats for the nautical members of the academy and hoping to find Mary-Kate somewhere among the reeds.
It was well past four o’clock when he made it to the docks. A few students scattered the beach near the president’s yacht, while the docks in the middle with the two-person sailboats were unoccupied. At the far end of the last pier, a girl wearing a white hoodie stood looking down at the water smoking a cigarette.
James approached the girl, whom he recognized from one of his classes, though he couldn’t quite think of which one. She turned her head when she heard his footsteps and smiled with her lips pursed around her cigarette. As James drew nearer, she turned back to look at the water. Sydney was her name: Sydney Berringer. James remembered that all her friends called her Syd. He walked up next to Syd and peered down at the water she was so entranced by.
“Holy…” James cut himself off.
“Yeah man!” Syd cackled and bobbed her head. “They’re early this year.”
Hundreds of jellyfish were clustered around the dock, bobbing up and down and looking quite extra-terrestrial in the water. Most of them were small, no larger than a fifty-cent piece, with the largest of the bunch having a few tendrils to show for its evolution. ‘They’re early this year’. It was early in May. The jellyfish didn’t usually appear until June. James stood next to Syd, nodding his head in time with her own rhythmic bobbing.
“This is amazing.” He said.
Syd turned to look at him as she ashed her cigarette on the sleeve of her hoodie.
“There’s an old Accokeek myth about times like these. Would you like to hear it?”
James looked at the jellyfish floating near the surface.
“Well I…”
“So basically, the legend says that the jellyfish only appear right before the appearance of a leviathan. You do know what a leviathan is… James right?”
“Yeah, of course…” James blinked.
“Well, the Moyaone once realized this, and so they predicted the arrival of a beast whenever the jellyfish were in season.”
James looked down into the murky waters, then into the eyes of the girl. Syd put out her cigarette and turned to face James.
“Well… it was nice talking to you…” James started. “…Syd Right?”
“A long time ago, the Moyaone pulled too many oysters from the bay. Then suddenly, the bay was flooded with jellyfish. The monster showed up when they were least expecting it, and it laid waste to everyone near the water: woman, children, anyone in a canoe or else just chilling by the bayside. The scary part is… Some people say it’s still out there.” Syd stared at James dead in the eye. “In the wake of the jellyfish bloom, the leviathan finds its harbor.”
“Wow…” James said. “That’s pretty terrifying.”
“Yeah…” Syd beamed up at him with her hands in her hoodie pocket. “Anyways, it was nice talking to you too man. And don’t worry, there’s probably not actually a monster lurking in these… Boo!”
Syd yelled and James stumbled back, nearly falling off the dock. Syd grabbed his arm and helped him to steady himself. He glared at her as he straightened his collar.
“Right. Well, I should get going. Good luck with your leviathan.”
“You alright dude? It was just a joke.”
“Fine thanks. I’ll see you in class.”
James turned and started to walk back down the dock. He smoothed out his shirt against his stomach and made sure that all ends were tucked. As he stormed off, he could feel his heart beating rapidly against his chest, so loud that he almost missed Syd’s last shout: “Class is over dude!” He bore right out of the docks and headed towards Church Point. It was nearing six o’clock and the sun was hidden behind the tree line at the edge of campus. It became visible again as James reached the graveyard, a torch behind the trees and tombstones and a beacon for all seeking solace under the cross of St. Paul, the last manmade structure on the western-most peninsula of the grounds.
He trudged through the graveyard and down the gravel path on the other side. He wasn’t exactly sure what or who he expected to find at the point, but at the very least the cross would keep him company. A pool of cracked-open oyster shells greeted him as he reached the shore, and as he thought of Syd’s tale of the Moyaone leviathan, his heart began to quicken along with his pace. As he reached the point, he noticed two figures sitting, laughing, and throwing oyster shells into the water under the shadow of the cross.
Immediately, James recognized the laughter of Mary-Kate Boisson. In the light of dusk, it took him a moment to distinguish the features of Nicholas Howard, another member of their Christian fellowship. James watched as Nicholas brushed the hair out of Mary-Kate’s face and over her ear, and he remembered how Nicholas had also been missing from the previous night’s meeting. Deciding his night would be better spent elsewhere after all, James slowed his pace and turned to leave but his large feet on the gravel gave him away.
“James?” Mary-Kate called out, and James froze. “James, is that you?”
“Oh,” James turned, “Hello Mary-Kate.”
“James Barley?” Nicholas turned. “James Barley, is that you old boy?”
Nicholas stood and helped Mary-Kate up after him. James stood, still frozen, as Nicholas walked over with his hand extended.
“Hey guys,” James shook Nicholas’ hand, “I was just going for a walk. I don’t mean to barge in on your evening.”
“You’re not barging in on anything.” Mary-Kate called out. “Join us!”
“Yes, join us.” Nicholas smiled and nodded, still grasping James’ hand. “We were just about to start a fire.”
“Really?”
“Sure, why not…”
“Weren’t you just about to go get wood, babe?” Mary-Kate placed her hand on Nicholas’ shoulder, who finally let go of James’ hand.
“Huh?” Nicholas turned to look at her. “Oh, yeah. James, help us get some firewood, would ya?”
“Um…” James eyed the cross warily. “I think I’ll stay here by the beach if that’s alright with you.”
“You sure?” Nicholas glared. “I could use your help.”
“Yeah.” James forced a laugh, feeling his breath growing heavy once more. “Actually, I just came down here for a swim. Anyone else feel like taking a dip?”
“What? James no….” Mary-Kate started to say.
But James was already nearing the beach. His heart was racing again, and he wasn’t quite sure why. Mary-Kate’s nonsensical objections molded into the ambiance as James began to wade into the water still wearing his jeans and collared shirt. He closed his eyes and cast himself headfirst into the murky waters: soothing, reminiscent of the pond James had swum in when he was younger.
‘And not a jellyfish in sight’, James thought as he turned from his back and began doing the breaststroke, now a shell-toss from the shore. Subtly, Mary’s-Kate’s voice was becoming clearer, but she was shouting. Why was she shouting? ‘It’s alright Mary-Kate, Strange Fruit can be either a poem or a song… Hell, it can be both!’ The argument was quite unnecessary.
And James opened his eyes. Thirty yards from the shore the current was pulling him back. The wind was picking up, and the water was freezing. In the distance, the figures of Mary-Kate and Nicholas Howard danced like embers on the beach, golden from the last remaining sunrays. And James struggled against the current, but still it pulled him back faster than he could fight. And James went under when fighting was no longer an option. Down in the murky gray, he looked for jellyfish. And his lungs collapsed as he sank to the bottom.