In Between
The wooden sign read ‘Do Not Cross The Threshold’ in painted scarlet letters. A menacing warning for those who believed it. The ragged post jutted out of the black sand at an angle, its bottom half tickled by the water that was lapping up onto the shore, slowly wearing it down until the wood became soft and distorted. It was no accident that Charlie was here, now, staring at the sign in his cut-off jean shorts and worn-out shirt. He came looking for the place where the land met the sea. Where his feet could be planted in the earth, but swimming in the water in the same exact moment. It was the only place that Charlie was not at war with himself. The duality of where he stood gave him peace about the duality he felt about himself. He was two halves of a whole that did not match. He was both land and sea, and neither, just like the spot where the sign was nestled into.
He flirted with the idea of crossing the threshold many times. First just with a toe, then a foot, then flinging his entire body over the line and into whatever lay on the other side of the threshold that should not be crossed. With every new sunrise, Charlie cowered. Too afraid of what was beyond it.
It had been exactly three years since he left home with a backpack and an idea.
“Soul searching”, he called it, packing away the items that defined his life at the time.
“What for?” They would ask, rolling their eyes at him.
Charlie would shrug. He had no answer, but knew he was searching for something different than what he had.
In three years Charlie had lived many lives in search for the one that felt right. It led him to this place: a small cabin, propped up at the edge of a beach with black sand and a sign that stared at him every day, taunting him to defy the words boldly written across it.
Perhaps it was the crisp air that filled his lungs with the promise of a good day, or the extra sugar cube that he dropped in his coffee a few minutes ago, but that morning Charlie floated towards that sign with a sense of renewed bravery. He planted one foot firmly over the imaginary line in the sand, keeping the other foot safely grounded behind it.
And then everything went black.
And he was falling.
And something was tugging at his chest.
Charlie felt himself split into two. Physically he remained as one, but he could feel himself being pulled in two directions, until finally his soul snapped in half. Both halves were quickly drifting away from him. He could feel one was being carried away into the sea on the back of a wave, while the other sunk deeply into the black earth that he was once standing on. After a moment of stillness, Charlie was empty.
“Where am I?” Charlie said to himself, out loud, desperately hoping someone, somewhere, was listening.
A voice slid into Charlie’s ear. In the darkness, it came from all directions.
“In between the land and the sea,” The voice replied. It was deep and velvety, like a ribbon you find in the back of your grandmother’s drawer, and it wrapped itself around his neck until Charlie felt every word tighten the hold it had on him. “Your soul is gone. Returned to where it once came.”
Charlie drew in a last sharp breath and shut his eyes tightly. He felt himself being thrust upwards, the weight of his body like a feather. The next time he opened his eyes he was back on the beach, still straddling the threshold, the sun beaming down on his face. Charlie turned towards his cabin and walked along the hot sand. He packed up his belongings and went home, no longer on the search for his soul.