Forever More

The day was young and the people were old. All was quiet and calm at Kana beach and the residents were enjoying the little time they had of nothing but sun and sea. Betty took it all in; the salty air and the cool breeze. The seagull’s cries and the waves roars. The warm sand and the cool foam. The clear sky and the blue sea.
It was a sight she had seen many a time, yet each time its beauty seemed to increase. The golden, sandy bank seemed to go on forever, never quite coming to an end.1

And then, there was them. Their red and yellow caps and sun blocked faces stood out from afar. Their high chairs, goggles and binoculars enabled them to see far and wide.
“Yet you couldn’t see my Mattie,” muttered Betty, her heart suddenly cold and hard. She could feel the tears slowly welling from her eyes, down her cheeks, dropping off her chin and through the air, pummelling softly into the warm sand.2

It had been three months since fate had cruelly taken Matilda. Three heartbreaking months. It seemed like such a sin that the world seemed so pleasant and cheerful at these devastating times. Betty glanced at her watch.
“Quarter past two. The children will be coming soon,” Betty said to herself. “Another chance to relieve the nightmare. Another chance for more heartache. Another chance of another little Mattie.”3

She closed her eyes and slowly, ever so slowly drifted off to sleep.
“Mum.” A small voice drifted through Betty’s head. “Mum. I’m here mum. You must wake up.”
“Mattie! I’m with you at last!” she cried, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks as she held out a hand for her lost child.
“Mum wake up. Wake up.” The voice echoed now merely a whisper.
"No. No. Don’t leave me again! No!” cried Betty.
“Mum.” 4

The voice disappeared and Betty opened her eyes.
She glanced at her watch.
“Half past three. The children are here,” she thought. 5

“JAKE! JAKE WHERE ARE YOU???” frantically screamed a young lady.
Betty sat up and scanned the beach. Over in the ocean she spotted a little hand, slowly disappearing in the waves.
“Not another Matilda,” cried Betty, her voice full of determination. “Not today.”6

She sprinted into the water, swimming as fast as she could. Her arms and legs felt like they were going to drop off. But further she went. Then she dived. She dived into the depths of the raging sea. She reached out blindly until she made contact with the small, cold hand. With an almighty thrust she forced the child up to the surface, then waved like crazy. Strong hands pulled her and the child to safety. 7

Back on the beach, the little boy was revived. He sat in shock as his mother hugged him tight to her chest.
Betty smiled. She closed her eyes and took her last breath. Then she went to join her little Mattie.8

Forever more.9