About Jack

Ever wondered what drives you to keep holding on to your personal routines or rituals? Jack never did. Until an unexpected encounter on the beach turned his life upside down.

When the warmth of the springtime sun had melted away the last patches ice from the Baltic sea, Jack pursued his Monday morning routine. Something he did for the past 40 years.

He woke up at 5.30 am, got his swim trunks on, drank a large glass of water, grabbed his keys, his waterproof duffel bag and closed the door behind him. At the small beach it was mostly him, accompanied by a flock of seagulls who were busy flying in and out of the sea. For a moment he stopped and took a deep breath. The fresh wind blew through his curly grey hair, revealing little patches of what used to be blond.

His corner of the beach was a huge rock situated at the far end of the beach. Especially in the early spring, when the seawater was still challengingly cold. Warming up on that sun heated rock was just divine.

The first swim of the season was always the hardest. The moment his feet touched the freezing cold water, his body shivered, making him instinctively hesitate to continue. Yet he merged himself into the sea until only his head came out. That was the moment the magic began. All he could hear was the sound of his own breathing,  the whistling of the wind and the crying seagulls. The soothing hush of the waves hitting the shore behind him felt like the hug of an old friend. Slowly he breathed it all in.

During his working life this fed him with much needed energy. It helped him get through the long stretching workdays. Year by year he was stuck behind a desk on the eighth floor of a gloomy looking building. Even though he was now retired and had turned 71, he still needed to feel this magic. He was convinced it would slow down the process of his deteriorating body. He was not ready to leave this earth, yet.   

Photo by Erika Patrikainen

It seemed like an ordinary Monday morning. Assuming it was the normal time to get up, Jack took a glimpse at the clock. To his horror the display showed it was already 6.30. Never in his life had he overslept! Confused he jumped out of bed. Ignoring the dizziness in his head, he did his morning routine and rushed of to the beach. Out of breath he quickly took off his sandals and hastened to his corner. Only to find a black duffel bag lying there that was exactly the same as his. To his surprise a blue towel was draped around it, just like he always did.

Dazzled he looked around to find its owner

There was no one to be seen. Can this day get any worse?! He now not only overslept. Someone had taken his corner of the beach! Never had this happened before.  Angrily he threw his duffel bag a little further away. While quickly getting undressed, his eyes kept scanned the beach and sea hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. But he was all alone.

Diving into the water the magic washed away his anger and soothed his mind. After swimming for a few minutes he stopped to catch his breath and turned to face the shore. At that moment a tall man walked out of the sea. Jack watched him walk to the duffel bag. Then, with the same movements as he would do, the man grabbed the towel and slowly turned around to face the sea. On seeing his face, Jack was gobsmacked.  A sun-tanned muscular body, broad shoulders and lightly curled blond hair looked towards the sea. It was as if Jack saw the younger version of himself.

‘No, this can't be!’ Jake shouted out. At the same moment a big wave swallowed his face, pulling his body into an upcoming wave. Gasping for air Jack started swimming back as hard as he could. When his feet touched the sand, the man was already gone. 

‘Am I dreaming?’ Jack wondered as he walked towards the rock. 

The rest of the week this event kept his mind busy. The following Sunday night Jack set two sets of alarm clocks. The next morning, by the time he got to the beach the black duffel bag was already lying there. Jack gazed around to catch a glimpse of the man in the sea. Disappointed, he dived into the sea.  On turning his face to the shore, just like the week before, a man was walking on the beach towards the rock.

‘He man! Wait for me!’ shouted Jack as hard as he could

By the time he reached the shore, the man was already gone.  

The following weeks Jack obsessively tried everything to meet this mysterious man. He woke up earlier. Or he would swim with backstrokes, facing the shoreline all the time. It was all in vain. Spring turned into summer and the mystery remained unsolved.

Jack did not give up. One Sunday evening he decided to camp out on the beach. When he woke up the duffel bag was there. Determined to meet the man, Jack decided to skip his morning swim. Instead he just sat there, staring at the sea and waited. The sun was already high and the beach was filled with the cheerful sound of children running in and out of the sea. Jack must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes, the duffel bag was gone. Mission failed.

A few days later, while sitting in the park, he pondered:

‘Why did I let myself go this entire summer?’ This whole obsession, had taken away his joy of swimming. It felt as if the magic of the sea had stopped working. Reminiscing the moment he told his two best friends about his weekly swimming ritual, he had explained to them:

‘Swimming in the sea makes me stop thinking’ 

Of course there was a deeper meaning as to why he kept swimming. It brought him more than just getting him through another week. When he still worked, he sometimes tried to guess what his colleges would be doing to feel this same kind of vibrant energy. He was convinced that every human being had some sort of a personal ritual that nobody knew about. And in those moments no other human being was present. Just you and that calm voice inside of you.

The silence was roughly interrupted by a group of teenagers. They all hunched for a moment over a phone and then jumping away laughingly. Suddenly he felt old and alone. Slowly he walked home.

That night Jack lay in bed staring at the dark ceiling. 

‘What is my legacy to the world if I die tomorrow?’ 

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he fell asleep restlessly. Jack dream he was swimming. Suddenly he spotted the man just a few hundred meters away from him. Exited he started to swim towards him. But no matter how hard he swam, he seemed to make no progress. ‘Who are you!’ Jack shouted. The man looked at him but remained silent.

The next morning Jack woke up feeling exhausted.

‘What is the universe trying to tell me?’ He sighted deeply.

While making breakfast Jack turned on the radio filling the kitchen with the clear voice of Tina Turner:

So, what do we do with our lives
We leave only a mark
Will our story shine like a light or end in the dark?
Give it all or nothing

We don't need another hero (hero, hero)
We don't need to know the way home

From that moment on Jack knew what his legacy was going to be. The next Monday morning he went for his usual swim. Far out of the shore a cry for help caught his attention. A few hundred meters away from him he saw how a young woman was struggling with the waves. Immediately he started swimming towards her while shouting: 

‘Don’t swim against the waves!’

When he got nearer, the woman managed to turn around, letting the waves push her back towards the shore. 

‘Thanks! I don’t know what happened. Suddenly I found myself surrounded by a deep and calm yet energetic feeling. I was so taken that I forgot to keep swimming. Have you ever had that before?’

Jack smiled and answered: 

‘Yes, for the past forty years I have let myself be surrounded by the magic of the waves, the warm lights of the sun rays and the cheerful cries of the seagulls shearing over the sea.’

The moment Jack finished talking, he turned to face the shore. And there he was; his younger self, smiling at him. He waved. And Jack waved back.  

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A big thanks to Katja from Ridge Writing Retreats and her online group of writing women for inspiring me to write this short story.