Scary True Stories Told In The Rain | Ep. 503

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It was a hot summer day. The humid air covered my body like a wet blanket, as the powerful rays of sun landed on my shirtless body. I could hear the mild, soothing sound of chimes that were gently played by the ocean breeze. As I looked down at the path in front of me, I counted dozens of small seashells scattered within the sands of the beach. Looking out at the horizon, I could see the ocean tide working its way down the shore, exposing the small patches of reef that were hidden by the sea during the day.

While enjoying the peace and tranquility of the moment, my mind was full of excitement for the night to come.

Growing up, my family had a decades-long tradition of hitching up the travel trailer once a year and taking a two-week-long vacation to Puerto Penasco, Mexico. Puerto Penasco, mostly known as Rocky Point to vacationers and tourists, is a small beach town in the northeastern point of the Gulf of California. Most people would have no idea that such a tranquil oceanfront destination is only a few hours' drive from Phoenix, Arizona's capital city. To this day, I vividly remember the trips from the back of our family suburban. I would look out the window and watch the landscape change from Arizona's high desert of pines, juniper trees, and rolling valley meadows to a gradually more and more barren desert. By the time you get to the Rocky Point, all you can see in the distance are rolling sand dunes with scattered desert plants and saguaro cactus. To anyone traveling there for the first time, the barren atmosphere can leave you wondering why you are even there, and why anyone would ever recommend Rocky Point as one's vacation destination. But once you enter town, you realize why the place comes so highly recommended. Rows and rows of outdoor booths line both sides of the main street. Vendors try to sell you clothes, knickknacks, decorations, and furniture, all of which have the flair and cultural undertones of Mexico's rich history. Perhaps the greatest of all, the best food that will ever pass your lips. I have always had a love for Mexican food, but sitting at a breezy beach front restaurant, looking out at the anchored fishing boats that supplied the very shrimp in your tacos, words simply do not do it justice. Rocky Point, Mexico is simply but a destination of peace, tranquility, and unparalleled recovery for the weary soul. Looking back, perhaps the surreal atmosphere, combined with my childhood naivety, left me with the feeling that nothing bad had ever happened in this wonderful oasis.

One fateful night, however, would change my attitude for years to come. Being in my early teens, mischievousness was simply baked into my DNA. My brother and I, along with some friends, would frequently spend our evenings on the secluded low tide beach lighting off fireworks we purchased from local vendors. Some fireworks were relatively harmless, such as Roman candles and bottle rockets. Other fireworks had a much bigger kick and were known to be loud enough to set off alarms for cars distantly parked within the beachfront trailer park. One evening, we had just lit off the last of our fireworks and started scheming on what other antics we could employ to keep ourselves entertained. One friend had a crazy idea of taking a nighttime swim in the ocean.

These were known to be very calm waters, small waves with no major currents.

Before we knew it, we had stripped down to our swimming trunks and headed in. The beaches in Rocky Point taper at a very shallow angle. Even after going out into open waters, a quarter of a mile, I could still stand on the bottom to keep my head above water. At some point, we decided it was time to head back. At this time of night, our only source of light on the waters were the stars, as well as a mostly full moon. On a night like this, the visibility is surprisingly good, with the water reflecting the moon's light in all directions. Despite the relatively good visibility, seeing under the water was simply impossible. As I looked down my body to see that the water line was now about the height of my mid-waist, I had a bit of an uneasy feeling. It was not until that moment, it occurred to me, that if something were under the water with me, I would have no way of knowing it. Little did I know that my fear of the unknown was going to get much, much worse. As we waded through the water working our way back to shore, something bumped into the back of my legs, hard enough to almost take my legs out from under me. I jolted forward, turning to look down at the waters behind me. I felt a tingling sensation run up my spine, and my hair stood up on end as I saw a light-colored blur disappear into the dark murky waters. My heart began to pound so hard, the sound of my own heartbeat nearly drowned out the sound of my friends splashing and fooling around just in front of me. I felt a slight sense of relief as I saw the head of my brother pop out of the water ahead of me, apparently swimming under the water as he often enjoyed doing. I called out to him, Micah, did you bump into me?