The Tide Turns Twice

Chapter 1: The Bucket Falls

⟨Character 1⟩ stops under the shop sign and reads the crooked letters: “⟨Character 1⟩ Makes Sawdust, Not Sense.” He laughs once, but the laugh falls away. The paint is still damp under his fingertips. Marek has been missing three weeks.

⟨Character 1⟩: Sal, come look at this. Marek painted my sign again. Third prank this year, and he still cannot keep his letters straight. But this one feels different, because he is not here to watch me find it.

Sal: That is Marek’s handwriting, sure. But ⟨Character 1⟩, he has been missing three weeks. Missing people do not climb ladders to repaint signs. Maybe someone else is playing a prank, or maybe you are seeing jokes because you miss your friend.

⟨Character 1⟩: It is exactly the kind of thing Marek would do. Last spring he filled my work boots with sawdust, then labelled them “⟨Character 1⟩’s spare sawdust, do not walk.” He once swapped my varnish for seawater and my bench smelled like the tide for a month.

Sal: You are not listening. The man has been gone three weeks. The coastguard has no sign of him. Chasing a prank will not bring your friend back.

⟨Character 1⟩: Then I will make a prank that calls him out. We fill this bucket with seawater and rig a tripwire across the doorway. He walks in, the wire pulls the bucket, and he gets a cold reminder that I still know how to fix a fine knot.

Sal: Fine. I will help you fill it, but only because you will not listen to reason. And I am not cleaning up the seawater when it misses him and soaks your floor.

At the harbormaster’s office, ⟨Character 1⟩ finds Leena at the counter, sorting tide tables.

⟨Character 1⟩: Leena, has Marek’s boat come back? Any sign of him on the water?

Leena: No, ⟨Character 1⟩. Not a hull, not a line. But a dockworker found this bucket half-sunk by the pilings this morning. There was a tide table tucked underneath it, and one date is circled in red.

⟨Character 1⟩: Tonight. Low tide. That is his hand, Leena. Marek is still playing, and he wants me to find him.

Leena: Or someone wants you to think that. Be careful, ⟨Character 1⟩. Low tide at the old slipway can be a dangerous place.

⟨Character 1⟩: That’s tonight. Low tide at the old slipway. I left a bucket of seawater rigged over my workshop door, Sal is watching it. If Marek walks in, he’ll get soaked and then he’ll have to explain this tide table to me.

Leena: Then go, but call me if you find anything. And ⟨Character 1⟩, the tide waits for no one.

Chapter 2: The Wrong Catch

⟨Character 1⟩: The bucket's full to the brim, wire is taut across the doorway, and my best cleat hitch is holding it to the rafter. I tied it slow, the way I'd hang a heavy door, so it won't slip until someone trips it. Now I just wait and listen for footsteps on the gravel outside. Patience, ⟨Character 1⟩, that's what Marek always said I lacked, and tonight I'm going to prove him wrong.

⟨Character 1⟩: There's a word for that rising water outside, tide. I don't use it much, but tonight I can feel it, cold and patient, slipping under the door like Marek would. The concrete is turning slick, and my boots keep sliding a little on the damp. I can hear it lapping against the workshop step, like someone knocking very softly.

⟨Character 1⟩: I could wait all night if I have to. Marek once hid in a wardrobe for two hours just to jump out and scare me. He said the waiting was the best part, because he knew I'd be imagining worse. So I'll wait here in the dark, listening for the creak of the door hinge and the rustle of his jacket.

⟨Character 1⟩ shifts to check the line under the bench, his boot slides on the wet concrete, and he knocks the wire. The bucket tips, dumps cold seawater over his head, and clatters to the floor. Inside the bucket, a note is taped, its ink running but still readable.

⟨Character 1⟩: Wait, there's a note in the bucket. It says, 'Low tide, old slipway.' That's Marek's hand, but he didn't leave this tonight, because I triggered the trap myself, not him. He left it here earlier, hidden in the bucket so I'd find it after the prank. The ink is smeared but I know those letters.

⟨Character 1⟩: So the prank wasn't meant to catch Marek at all. He set this up before he vanished, knowing I'd rig a bucket and trigger it. That means these pranks are not from a friend who is still hiding and laughing. They are pre-set clues, left for me like breadcrumbs, and I've been chasing his ghost.

⟨Character 1⟩: And the tide table Leena gave me had tonight circled in red. Low tide at the old slipway. That note is telling me to go there now, at the lowest point of the tide, when the mud is exposed. But if Marek left these clues before he disappeared, then he's not waiting to laugh at me. Something really has gone wrong.

⟨Character 1⟩: I'm wet through, and the workshop smells like a tide pool, but I have to go now. The tide is going out, and if Marek is at that slipway, I need to find him. I'll grab a crowbar and a lamp, and I'll walk down there myself, because I won't wait until morning. Patience is its own kind of brave, they say, but sometimes you just have to move.

Chapter 3: Low Tide, Old Slipway

⟨Character 1⟩ reaches the old slipway at dawn, just as the tide bottoms out, and sees boot prints in the grey mud leading to a rusted grate.

⟨Character 1⟩: Those are Marek’s boot prints, clear as day, leading straight to that rusted grate. The tide is so low I can see every shell and pebble, and the note said low tide, old slipway. I’ve got my crowbar, and I’m going to pry that grate open. The smell of wet timber and salt is thick, and something tells me those prints are not leaving here.

⟨Character 1⟩: There’s his tool belt, left in the mouth of the tunnel, the leather cracked and salt-stained. And here’s a half-built wooden sign, the letters carved but not painted. It says, ‘I’m Sorry for All the Pranks.’ Marek was building an apology, not a prank. My chest goes cold, because he would never leave a half-finished sign unless something stopped him.

⟨Character 1⟩: Wait, I hear something. Tap, tap, tap, like a nail on a pipe, and it’s coming from deeper in the tunnel. Marek, is that you? Tap again if you can hear me. My heart is pounding, because that tapping is too steady to be the tide, and too deliberate to be an animal.

⟨Character 1⟩ follows the tapping through the dark, crouching under low timbers, and stops when he sees a yellow rain slicker half-buried under a collapsed section of boards.

⟨Character 1⟩: Marek, I’m coming! I see your yellow rain slicker, and the boards have collapsed on this side, like the whole tunnel gave way. Keep tapping, don’t stop, that’s the bravest thing I’ve ever heard. I’m going to dig through with my crowbar and my bare hands if I have to.

Marek: ⟨Character 1⟩? Is that really you? I thought nobody would find me. My leg is broken, I can’t move, and the tide is coming back. I tried to leave a trail, but the water washed it away, and I’ve been tapping for days, hoping someone would hear.

⟨Character 1⟩: Stay awake, Marek. I’m here, and I’m not leaving. I’ll dig with my hands if I have to, but I’ll get you out before the tide turns. You just keep tapping, and I’ll do the patient work. Patience is its own kind of brave, so you have to be brave for me now.

⟨Character 1⟩: The prank war is over, Marek. This isn’t funny anymore. You’re hurt, and I’m going to get you out, slow and careful. No more jokes, no more signs, just you and me and this old smugglers’ tunnel. I’m not going to let the sea take you back.

Chapter 4: The Tide Turns

⟨Character 1⟩: Hold still, Marek. I’m splinting your leg with this driftwood and my old belt, and I need you to stop squirming or I’ll tie it too tight. Drink a little water from my flask, slow sips now. You’re paler than the tide foam out there, and I won’t have you shivering yourself unconscious before the coastguard gets here.

Marek: I wasn’t pulling a prank this time. I carved that sign to say sorry for all the pranks, and I left the tide table under the bucket for you to find, with tonight circled because this old tunnel is only dry at the lowest tide of the month. The other pages washed away in the storm, so you only got the last clue. I thought I’d be out before the tide turned, but the boards gave way and pinned me.

⟨Character 1⟩: Patience is its own kind of brave, Marek. You tapped for days, and you kept yourself awake, and that’s braver than any prank you ever pulled. I’m going to climb out now and call the coastguard, because the tide is already coming back in and I don’t want to swim you out of here. I’ll be back before it reaches your knees, you hear me, so keep those taps going.

Marek: Patience? You? I never thought I’d hear you say that, not after you nailed my toolbox shut because I hid your good chisel. But thank you, ⟨Character 1⟩. For not giving up, for following my stupid trail of pranks and tide tables, for getting here before the sea did. Now go, before we both need a bigger boat.

⟨Character 1⟩: Stay awake, and keep tapping if you need to. I’m going up the slipway, and I’ll signal the coastguard from the top, the old hand signal we learned as kids? Two long flashes and one short. Don’t you dare close your eyes, because I’ll come back and pull you out myself if they’re too slow, and I’ll drag you to the closest pub for a hot meal.

The coastguard hauls Marek out on a stretcher as the first grey light touches the water. ⟨Character 1⟩ watches, breathing hard, then looks down at the rising tide. Leena steps beside him.

Leena: You said the word ‘tide’ in the workshop, when you were setting that bucket trap. You were muttering to yourself about the water coming in, and I heard you say it. What does it mean, ⟨Character 1⟩? I’ve heard the word all my life but I never asked anyone to explain it, and now I need to know.

⟨Character 1⟩: It’s the sea breathing in and out, Leena. It was coming in when I slipped on the wet floor, and it nearly took Marek, but now it’s going out again, slow and patient, taking us back to dry land. That’s all a tide is: the sea’s way of keeping time, and we just have to listen to it. Patience is its own kind of brave, remember?