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He yawned again.
“It’s past your bedtime,” you told the little three-year-old toddler curled up on the living room couch clutching his favorite Briny Narwie plushie. He peered up at you with a pout, and you sighed helplessly as you crouched down to his eye-level next to the couch. You pointed at the clock on a nearby wall and said gently, “See that little hand? It’s approaching ten. You were supposed to be asleep at eight. Almost two hours ago.”
“But Daddy promised me a lullaby!” the boy whined, clutching his plushie tighter as his lips quivered.
You sighed again. “Your daddy has an important art show tonight,” you explained to the toddler, “You know how upset Uncle Thomas gets when your daddy doesn’t go to these events.”
“I know…” he said softly. He looked up again, his voice pleading, “But Daddy said he would come home soon to sing me my lullaby!”
You smiled softly, sympathizing with your son. You also knew that right at this moment Rafayel was also miserable at his art show, preferring the company of his family over the pretentious crowd that flocked to see his works. He had insisted that he would only stay for an hour at most to satisfy Thomas’ expectations, but it had now been at least three hours since you were expecting Rafayel to arrive home.
You settled on the couch, sitting next to your son who had been adamant that he would not go to sleep until he had his lullaby, but for the past hour, you had watched the toddler dozed off several times before jerking awake, his resolve weakening with each passing second.
“You know, Mommy can sing you a lullaby, too. Rock—” You barely got the first word out before your son pressed two small hands to your mouth, covering it as he gave you an annoyed pout.
“It’s not the same!” the little boy whined, nearly on the verge of tears. He plopped back down in his seat and hugged his plushie tighter.
You couldn’t refute this. Rafayel had been singing to his son Lemurian lullabies of a time gone by since the little boy was still in your womb. It had been a nightly ritual for several years now, and rarely would Rafayel ever skipped it. You yourself was also fond of his singing, his ethereal voice always ensnaring you under his spell, spiriting you away to another time, another place.
“Okay, okay,” you said to your son, reaching out to wipe away the tears that brimmed at the corners of his eyes. You smiled softly again, your arms spread apart. “How about you snuggle with Mommy then while we wait for Daddy to come home?”
The boy’s lips quivered again.
“Please?”
“Okay…” he said reluctantly and crawled into your lap. Your arms instantly wrapped around him, pulling him closer into your protective embrace. Instinctively, you threaded your fingers through his soft hair soothingly, smiling in wonder at the beautiful little boy in your arms who was a perfect blend of both you and Rafayel, though you couldn’t help but mused how sometimes more of Rafayel would peek through, such as tonight.
Casually, you hummed the same lullaby Rafayel would often sing, having memorized the mythical melody by heart over the years.
“Mommy… it’s not the same…”
“I know,” you said affably, continuing nonchalantly, “I’m just humming.”
Your hand rubbed your son’s back up and down soothingly.
The toddler sighed heavily, letting his frustration be known, but you remained unbothered by his dramatics, continuing with your light humming.
Try as he might, eventually sleepy little eyes closed, letting darkness settled and allowing himself to be whisked away by this familiar melody.
Cradled in the sea’s embrace, a whale carried the toddler away as he laughed joyously, eyes full of wonder as a school of fish swam, swirling around the little boy, their scales shimmering brilliantly in the water. Many other marine creatures joined the boy in his underwater journey. Sea turtles, dolphins, stingrays, and many more accompanied the small child, showing him all of the beauties of the deep.
He giggled as two little fish—one red and one blue—swam against his cheek, tickling him. He held up a small chubby finger and the blue fish brushed against him in assurance, a silent promise that the boy was well protected in his journey.
He didn’t know where he was going, where the whale was taking him, but he felt no fear, feeling in his heart that within the deep sea, there was a place calling out to him.
When the little boy’s eyes fluttered open, he shook his head, feeling something tickling his cheek.
Purple hair.
He was resting on his father’s shoulder, hearing his deep voice singing a song, an ancient lullaby.
The words were foreign, but the toddler understood, feeling it in his heart. He clung tighter to his father, letting the warmth of his voice wrapped around him like a protective cloak.
“My little fishie,” Rafayel hummed softly, turning to press his lips to his son’s head, “Daddy’s sorry he was late tonight.”
The boy made a soft noise in response, and Rafayel smiled. He resumed singing as he swayed gently from side-to-side in his son’s bedroom. Alongside his voice, the sounds of waves could be heard crashing gently on the shore outside.
The boy yawned, his grip loosening, but Rafayel just held him tighter. As he sang, he gazed fondly at the child in his arms, still after all of this time awestruck that this precious treasure was his. He continued to sing, his words joined by the ocean’s waves.
Lured back to his dreamscape, the little boy was carried away to another place, another time, where an ancient forgotten civilization celebrated his arrival and welcomed him home.