It was quiet. The water lapped against the sides of the red rowboat, swaying it slightly. Ocean wind brushed against June’s smiling face. She closed her eyes and sensed everything around her. The smooth oar in her hand. The goosebumps from the wind. The water rolling under her boat.

She was content.

When she opened her eyes everything was as calming at it was when she closed them. Her eyes wandered to the dusty inside of her boat. Then a memory settled into the front of her mind.

An eleven year old June sat in her red rowboat with her mother. They were both silent. The water calmly splashed as the both of them held tight onto their fishing rods. June let out a deep sigh. She just wished that the fish would start biting.

A line began whirring.

June turned around to see her mother struggling with a fish. “June! I caught something! Help me reel it in!”

With one hand June pulled while her mother reeled.

The rod bent further and further into the waves. Abandoning her own fishing rod, June grabbed her mother’s and pulled with both hands. The young June heard violent splashing. She looked and saw the fish’s pale body thrashing just under the surface.

June’s mother got a firm footing on the boat’s floor. “Are you ready?”

June nodded.

“One,” her mother yelled, “Two… Three!”

They pulled back, and yanked the fish into the boat.

June looked at the flopping, six-inch animal. “I thought it would be bigger”

Her mother held the line up, and watched the fish wiggle on the end of it. “It sure put up a fight like a big one.”

Something wet touched June’s head.

Present-day June blinked. She was alone in her rowboat. The shore was still behind her. Another drop of water hit her arm. Then her cheek. She looked up.

A rain cloud hung overhead.

Quickly June put her oar in the water and pushed her way towards the beach. More drops of water came down. She dipped her oar into the hissing ocean. The sound got louder and louder. June got chills as the winds picked up. She glanced into the distance. The shore was getting harder to see. June paddled faster.

“This is okay,” she told herself. “This is fine. I can do this. I can make it!”

The waves got larger and jostled the little rowboat. June tried to keep her head still as she bobbed up and down. The shoreline got grayer and grayer. June rowed faster. The water came down harder, soaking her clothes. White waves grabbed at the sides of the boat, and threatened to tip it over. Salty water splashed onto her face as she turned her boat into the waves. A wave came. The bow of the red craft was sent high into the air before plummeting down into the stormy waters. June desperately searched for the shore, but the rain was too intense. Blind, cold, and afraid, June rode out the storm. Hot pain from rowing ran through her arms. How long had she been fighting the storm? Ten minutes? An hour?

Soon the wind died down.

The rain went away.

And the clouds parted.

June sat there shivering in her drenched clothes. She looked for land, but didn’t find it. She yelled for help, but no sailor heard her. June regretted everything. She wished that she stayed at home. Aggie would be waiting for her to get online. June’s father would come home to an empty house. He would have no idea where she is. Frankly June didn’t know where she was either.

She wanted to cry. But crying wouldn’t help her get home. June rubbed her burning eyes, then looked towards the sun. It was still before noon, so the sun would still be in the east.

Then a bird flew into view. June watched it fly down in a graceful spiral until it landed on the boat’s other seat.

She stayed still and observed.

The bird appeared to be a small hawk. It fluffed up its striped chest and looked at her with amber eyes.

June spoke slowly. “Um, hello, Bird. Please get off my boat.”

The bird cocked its head to the side. It then futtered down to the wet floor of the rowboat and sat in the water.

“No no, Birdie.” June moved her foot out of the way.

The bird dipped its head in the seawater and flicked drops onto its back.

June sighed. It’s gonna do what it wants. She put her elbow on her knee and watched the small hawk take its bath.

When it was done the bird walked over and onto June’s shoe, much to her objection. Then, using its beak as a hand, it began crawling up her pant leg.

June didn’t dare move for fear of scaring the animal.

The little feathery puffball got on her knee and shook off more water. Then it sat down and looked at June again.

“I guess you’re tame,” she said. “I wonder what a tame bird is doing this far out in the ocean.” June resisted the urge to pet the puffed up bird. Instead she turned her boat west, and began her journey home.