I was young, at the time

I was young, at the time. Maybe twelve, possibly younger. And I was on a field trip. I can remember how much I had wanted to go on that field trip. How I had done everything I could to save up for it, how I had relished every moment at the lighthouse, waiting for the elephant seals. I had even hoped that it would rain, so that the elephant seals might be more active. They were supposed to be big, but I wasn’t afraid. I thought it would be fun. I thought it would be wonderful, and grand. I was wrong.

The elephant seals charged us. I was the first to see it. I didn’t know what it meant at first. It was just a blob of seal dodging behind a bush. Messing around. I didn’t care. I was to busy looking around, too busy having fun, too busy watching to care about a single seal. Than everyone started to scream, and run, and when I looked, there it was again, charging at us. Its eyes, beady and black but a moment before, were a fiery red, and as large as plates. It didn’t seem fair, that something so large could move so quickly, that something so big it could flatten you and never think twice, would move with such a burst of speed. Didn’t stop it from doing so though.

I stood there, for a while, just staring, too shocked to move. I didn’t know what to do. How do you react, when something like that happens. What do you do when a ton of seal weight is barreling down on you, threatening to crush you, trying to destroy you. I just stared, not knowing. Then I ran.

I ran with all my might, along with everyone else, worried of what would happen. I ran, and I ran, afraid to look back, afraid not too. Worried of how close it was going to get. Worried I was going to cry. Worried I was going to fall, and be trampled. Worried I was going to die. Worried. I ran, and i ran, and it grew closer. At every turn, there were elephant seals, at every turn there was danger, bellowing its rage at us. There was no where to go, no where to run but forward. Turn here, make a path here. Never a choice. Always it was set before us, a clear path, a single way to go. That’s when we realized it. Maybe it was just one of us, at first, maybe it was two. Maybe we all saw it the same time; I don’t remember. But we all came to the same conclusion, In the end-it was herding us. It was smart. And it wanted us dead. We’d intruded. It’s blood red eyes flashed through my mind.

The guides were worried, not knowing what was happening. But worse was the fear you heard from the parents, even my Dad. You could hear it in their voice, hear it in their nervous jokes, and laughs. Worst of all, you could see it in their eyes: the desperation. The worry that their children wouldn’t get out. That they wouldn’t get out. That this stupid little light house, this fun little field trip, was going to be the place of our death. This beach our grave. We were doomed, and we knew it. It didn’t stop us from running, though.

The elephant seal’s fat wobbled, its nose waving in the air as it bellowed its rage at us. One parent screamed. Not at the seal, itself, though, but the water, filled with others of its kind. She told us that she had hoped for the water to be an escape, a way out if things got too bad…but now it was as dangerous as anything else. I wasn’t surprised. The guides had told us that elephant seals were faster in water than they ever could be on land. It had never been an escape, to me. Just another trap.

The elephant seal slowed, some, as the ground dropped away around us, content that we would never get away. It’s fiery eyes not so fierce, but mocking, daring us to try and escape. That there was no where to go, for us, and our tormentor knew it. The ground had become just a ledge. We would have to go in groups, skirting around the crumbling wall, past a corner, in order avoid the sleeping elephant seals on the other side. I went with the last group, the quietest, in the hopes that if the other, louder, groups were to wake the elephant seals, at least I would be safe.

The elephant seal grew closer, its long nose flailing, its eyes as fiery a red as I had ever seen it. We began walking around the edge, skirting around the seals, and running, running, even as the seal renewed its attack. The other elephant seals stared on, uncaring of our fate, but unwilling to let us escape it.

The parents were worried, still. They talked of sacrificing themselves, of leading the seals away from us. I couldn’t tell if it was a joke, or not. It sounded real, though. The elephant seal continued coming, not knowing of our conversation. Not really caring, either. Just coming, ever onward, a steam train prepared to roll over anything in its path. A guard dog, alpha male, determined to cast the intruders from its den. We ran, and we ran, and we ran as the elephant seal came forward.

It came closer, putting on new speed. I could see it, looking over my shoulder. Its rippling, jiggling skin. It’s waving nose. I tripped, falling to the ground, the hot sand entering my mouth, getting in my eyes, gritty against my tongue. It couldn’t stop me from seeing the seal, though, as it charged towards us.

It didn’t move in fluid movements, I realized, watching it with fascination. It was not a continuous charge, but a series of them. A swift movement forward, a jerking halt, and another charge, one after the other, in ground eating bursts, as it drew ever closer. Its nose seemed to be practically be in my face. Its skin was pallid, and gray. I wanted to scream, I wanted to leap up and run, but I was frozen. Even when my hand started to move, even as I tried desperately too push myself up, the sand seemed to offer no purchase. My legs did not seem to work. I couldn’t get up. I couldn’t ran forward. Could hear someone screaming my name, as if from a thousand miles away, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t mean a thing. No one could reach me in time.

The elephant seal was close, its bellow of rage playing through my ears. It’s flailing nose flowing in my eyes. Images of its bulk, moving at unbelievable speeds over the sand, playing through my mind again and again, even as its burning red eyes seared themselves into my memory.

A roar came through me, a thud, as another elephant seal crashed into it, sending it flying, the elephant seals stirring as the two combatants went past, distracted from us. Forgetting us. I scrambled to my feet, and ran, back to the group. Back to my dad. We still ran, but our way was no longer blocked, no longer herded. Before long we were on at track, than near a railroad, and still running, until we fell to the sand, collapsing, and laughing, and wondering what had happened.

Than we ate lunch, even as the images flashed through my brain. Even as thoughts of the seal’s crushing weight played through me, as vivid as ever. We ate lunch, because there was nothing else we could do, and we went back to the lighthouse, to meet up with the other half of our class. They were to go next.

We tried to warn them of what happened. We told them of the seal, told them of its flailing trunk. Told them of its fiery eyes. Told them of its crushing weight. They laughed. They didn’t believe us, not a one of them. Thought it was a joke, even came back teasing us about it.

It doesn’t matter, though, If they believed it or not. I guess you just had to be there.