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Jonas grew up next to the ocean. Sand was his backyard. The crashing waves of the tide were the melody that sang him to sleep every night. One day a thought embedded itself in his head that to him at least wasn't surprising.
He wanted to go live deep inside of the ocean forever.
What he didn't know was that this spectacular notion wasn't entirely his.
From a very young age Jonas felt a connection with the beach his house rested upon. His parents had built the house some years after getting married. They saved as much of their earnings as they could while living in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in the city with the dream of constructing a home by the water. Once they had enough money, they did just that.
Jonas' father Marcus designed it. He was not an architect, a good artist yes, but by no means a professional. In fact, Marcus was a garbage man. It wasn't a glamorous position but he was proud just the same. Proud because it was a good job that provided for his family and a job where he saw himself helping people by performing a service of both cleanliness and progress. Helping them move on and leave behind what needed to be left. Marcus was also an exceptional surfer. Prodded by his wife, Alice, to do so, he occasionally competed and won almost every time. But after a few tournaments he retired. He had no true desire to surf for prizes or acclaim. He surfed because it was his passion. It put him at peace like a good nights sleep.
Jonas' mother, Alice, decorated the inside of the house. And although she was proficient at it, she too wasn't a professional. Beyond being the resident interior designer, Alice was a hard working stay at home. Even after Jonas reached school age, she stayed home. Not from laziness, but mostly because Jonas begged her too. She occupied herself with crafts such as pottery, woodworking and painting. She grew so adept at these arts that she began selling her creations at local fairs and conventions. She accidentally began a business and a career in the process. Undoubtedly though, Alice was mostly committed to sculpting the innards of their home in such a way that they would always be able to marvel at the dream come true that was the beach house.
The house itself sat on stilts to prevent flooding in case of a storm. It had two large rectangular windows facing the ocean. It was painted blue with a white roof like the breaking surf. The stairs that led from the sand to the front door began on one side then spiraled upwards and ended on the other side of the house.
Overall, things should have been all right in Jonas' world. But they weren't. Truthfully he was suffering. Although he was a bright child he was performing poorly in school and only getting worse. And while all the adults analyzed what the problem might be, Jonas already knew. He didn't care enough to do well.
It was totally unimportant to him what the square root of 16 was or what the main theme in the "Red Badge Of Courage" was. These were trifle bits of trivia. Jonas was missing out on something really important. Unfortunately the answer had eluded him for many years.
At home, Jonas wasn't happy either.