Chapter One: Memories

  “Mikey! Hurry up or your father’s gonna leave you!”

  “Be there in a second, Mom!”

  Micah burst out of his room, a hat far too big on his head and a small toy fishing rod clutched in his hand. His grin stretched wide, his tail flicking with excitement.

  His mother, a woman in her mid-thirties, beamed at her son. “I can’t believe you’re eight already,” she crooned, ruffling his hair. “Feels like just yesterday you were fresh from the crib. Oh well, no matter how old you get, you’ll always be my baby.” She scooped him up and spun him around, laughing.

  “Mom! I’m not a baby anymore. And I have to go!”

  “Alright, alright. Have fun!”

  “Okay!”

  Micah darted out the front door into the warm summer air. The breeze carried the taste of salt, sharp yet fresh — a flavor he had grown used to. He slowed his steps as his feet sank into the dry sand. A few yards away, his father stood beside a canoe, staring at it with a serious expression, as though the canoe had personally offended him.

  “Hi, Dad!” Micah called, his voice bubbling with excitement.

  “My boy!” His father’s booming voice carried easily across the shore.

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  Micah ran to him, and his father lifted him high with pride. “Ready for your first fishing trip, boyo?”

  “Yes!”

  His father set him down and pushed against the canoe. It shifted only slightly. “Give your old man a hand, will ya?”

  Together they shoved the canoe into the shallow water, climbing in just as it drifted into the deeper waves.

  “Today,” his father said with a grin, “you’re getting a VIP lesson from yours truly.”

  Micah’s eyes shone as he listened to every word.

  “Okay… so like this?” he asked, mimicking his father’s movements.

  His father chuckled proudly. “You’re already getting the hang of it. Making me proud already!”

  “Dad! I think I caught a fish!” Micah shouted, reeling in the line just as he’d been taught. A small fish flopped awkwardly onto the canoe’s floor.

  “Amazing! But you need to hold it—” The fish wriggled free and splashed back into the sea.

  “Aww, man!” Micah groaned, staring at the ripples where the fish had vanished.

  “Don’t worry, son. It’s your first time. I was far worse than you.”

  Micah sighed, gazing out at the endless horizon.

  “Remember this,” his father said, his tone suddenly solemn. “The ocean gives, but it also takes. Never forget that.”

  Micah nodded, smiling. “So, if I give the ocean a piece of candy, will it give me a gazillion more?”

  His father laughed. “No, that’s not what I meant…”

  I never understood what he meant.

  Not until that day.

  My nineteenth birthday.