Wendy Fudge felt wistful at sunset. She always had, and she attributed it mostly to her brother. In their family home, sunset had always been storytime. It was right after dinner, when their parents were much too busy to notice that she and Simon had snuck into their secret place in the attic. He would tell her stories and she would look out the window. From her attic, she could see the English Chanel, changing color as beams of sun light rippled across its glossy surface. No matter Simon's story, the sea made it better. And then the sun would sink beneath the earth and they would escape back into the house and join the family.
During sunsets, Wendy liked to be alone and she liked to be near water. She missed the stormy weather, as the Great Lake always looked more beautiful when storms rocked the waves. She seemed to be the only one clinging to the hope of more rain and storms, and she kept dressing in sweaters and the like, a beanie currently pulled snugly onto her ears, long grey socks pulled up to her knees. She was seated on a fallen log, bark smoothed from the rains, her face tilted towards the sky.
There was something special about the invitation of open water. Not for swimming, necessarily. But it amazed Wendy to look as far as she could in one direction and see only water. It made the world feel large and adventurous, and it pulled her heart towards it. Back home, she would wander the piers, as though hoping to find a large pirate ship full of friendly people who happened to need one more to help them on their journey. It had never happened and surely never would, but water made her believe in even the most improbable.
Exams had been worrying her, but with most of them behind her, she wasn't letting herself cling to anxiety, not when she could choose peace. She had enough to worry about - her siblings, her grades, and her purpose. It wasn't more than anyone else's lot, but it was enough. She wasn't going to spend anymore of her life worrying than she needed to.
Her eyes slowly slid open and she saw a tentacle drifting over the edge of the water. She perked up. She absolutely adored animals of all kind, finding them incapable of the cruelty that ran errant in the human race. The Giant Squid was of such interest to her for its rarity and as it seemed to have a sense of humor. She had seen it joking tug on students as though it was going to pull them in, before right them. She had also seen it return frizbees and hacky-sacks, as well as claim scarves for its own. It was so strange and so wonderful.
"Ahooooy, friend," she called out sweetly, leaning forward on the log. The tentacle raised loftily and she held out her hand. The tentacle stretched out, reaching across the water's surface and over land towards her. She leaned forward more, wrapping one of her hands around her middle as her right hand stretched out to the tentacle, wanting to make a connection with the strange, magical creature.