A Strange Shade of Dawn

A STRANGE SHADE OF DAWN

As bubblegum pink as the inside of your mouth, the frothy bubbles cling to the bulbous kelp strewn on the sand. Like a hot whisper in her ear, Sarah knows that unnatural lump left behind by the nights waves hides something evil, that something pale and sad lies beneath the kelp.The pinkish froth clings to the lump in the sand, its’ bubbles quivering and pearlescent. She feels the prickle of goosebumps rise on her thighs followed by a tightness in the back of her throat. She glances around, realizing the wind blowing in off the ocean will mask anyone approaching. She clutches her phone inside her pocket, wondering if 911 is the same here in Jamaica.

Frustrated with Collette’s snoring, she had left the room just before daybreak, and shuffled across the glossy tile floor of the lobby, just wanting to escape. The dark ladies in the coffee shop laughed loudly, white teeth gleaming, their heavy accents making it impossible to understand what they were calling back and forth to the bellhop, who was polishing the brass elevator plates. They probably didn’t even notice her slip out the doors toward the beach.

Which means no one will miss me if I disappear.

Barely a glimmer on the horizon, the ball of sun, its rise imminent, sends streams of rosy light across the smooth waves, their lapping along the shore a tranquil prequel to the day, the cautious tuning of the orchestra before a raucous performance. She had sighed when she first stepped onto the sand, appraising the beauty of the morning, wiggling her toes in the yielding graininess, but then her mood returned.

Every day the Jamaican music blared, the rum flowed, and the lazy sunbathers chomped on fries and chicken fingers. She was sick of this place. Sick of Collette.

She had walked along the water until she was on the edge of the resort property and the tangle of driftwood and the various discards of the sea caught her attention. At first she thought the foam looked pink from the cast of sunrise, but then she noticed clots of darker clumpy hues throughout the lacy froth.

Glancing once more behind her, ankle deep in the water, she leans down and stares at the lump about the size of a loaf of bread, sure she had seen something pale and swollen glimmering under the foam. And there it is, a hunk of meat, of something, animal, sea creature, human, enshrouded in kelp. A yawning pink ropy sludge covered the flesh, slick and gelatinous.

Sarah gasps out loud and stumbles back, losing her balance and almost going down but she catches herself with her left hand and spins around, eyes searching feral-like along the shore to her left and right, not feeling her phone fall into wet sand, soon to be covered by the relentless waves, one after another.

Although frightened, something draws her back for a closer look, her mind reeling with images of dismembered bodies, child trafficking, Somalian pirates, drug boats, a prolific rolodex of horrific scenes garnered by a world filled with social media, click bait, and horrific news that assailed the American public on a daily basis.

Her mom at home wrung her hands worrying about her; her dad stockpiled rice and water and peanut butter in case of an apocalypse. And what was she doing down here? Where was Collette when she needed her? Why had she decided to stay after the Habitat for Humanity project was completed? Scared Sarah maligned Rebellious Sarah.

Holding her head in her hands, she shrinks back from the clump of flesh and suddenly aware of the proximity of her bare feet to it, hops back. Making a wide berth she slowly retreats, walking toward the palm trees lining the property that loom like sentinels in the near darkness of pre-dawn. She peers at the other foamy kelpy masses haphazardly strewn on the shore, difficult to discern what they might be. Looking about for a stick but not finding one, she envisions turning over an eyeball, a pointer finger donning a ring. Her mind swirls, fuzzy, the ocean loud but distant. She feels disembodied and sits down suddenly in the sand, reaching in her shorts for her phone, her fingertips brushing pocket fuzz and nothing else. Her phone is gone.

Did I leave it the room?

Wait. Breathe.

What she should do is report this to the police. The Jamaican Police. The hotel staff could tell her where to go, who to call. Then it would be light out and she would bring them back to this spot.

With a new sense of purpose, she struggles up and wanders along the palms trying to find her way back.

==================

“Sarah, Sarah, wake up.”

A lithe blonde with a ponytail, in silky shorts and a tank top, is crouching down shaking Sarah by the shoulder gingerly.

“Sarah, you’re going to get horridly sunburned. Come on.”

A puffy-faced Sarah lying on her side in the sand, squints her eyes open.

“Collette.”

“What. Yes, why are you out here? I was worried half to death. I thought you had gotten up to go for a run maybe but then you didn’t come back and so, well… What are you doing out here? It’s almost ten.”

Sarah pushes herself up onto one arm, then quickly looked toward the beach, scanning the sand.

“There was a hand. In the sand.”

“What?”

“It was bloody, and…”

“A hand in the sand?” Collette starts to laugh, pointing to the beach-goers only twenty yards away, mothers applying lotion to kids, a few teen boys volleying a ball, the waves sparkling. “Over there?” she smirks.

“I saw it.”

“Okaaaay.”

Sarah sits up and crosses her tan legs Indian-style, then feels in her pocket for her phone. She shifts her gaze to Collette, her eyes pleading.

Colette says “Sarah, did you take an Ambien last night?”

Sarah’s eyes drop down until she is staring at the sand between her legs.

“Um. Yeh I guess.”

“After we killed those two bottles of wine. After we came home from Hard Rock?”

Sarah nodded. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Seriously?” Collette sighs and stands up, extending her hand down toward Sarah.

“I told you to stop taking that shit.”

“I know, but I have anxiety.” Sarah mumbles and lets herself be helped up, shoulders drooping, eyes slits against the bright sunlight.

“But I saw it. All covered in pink bubbles.”

Collette snorted. Then she sighs again.

“Sarah, I think it’s time for you to go home.”

THE END