Beach Day

I didn't think it was going to rain today. The waves were hazy and distorted, textured with the drops from the low clouds above. Water hitting water. Greys and blues mixed and swirled until they were indistinguishable. White caps were just beginning to topple over themselves on the darkening horizon. The waves near me, on the beach, were still calm. Out across the water, I could see the future winds that would soon be upon me.

A pier with cold white light punctured the greying mixture of sky and ocean. Ella mentioned a storm coming, but I didn't believe her. Before Ella left me standing on the beach alone was that she made a mistake, but it appears she had not.

The first cool drops of precipitation were absorbed by the sand. A wet, rigid layer began to form, cracking under each of my steps as I shuffled to the pier. Dry sand was exposed underneath each step, but systematically began mutating, replacing what I exposed. The large, slow rain drops added indented scales to the ground. I was walking on the back of a large still serpent. I looked behind myself, trying to see where I came from. I could only trace the path about 10 steps back, before they mixed with the rest. Steps and divots; the micro mountain ranges of the sand dunes.

I was not planning on being on the beach today, even when I thought it was going to be a normal day. A suit and tie are not my preferred beach clothes. They clung to my skin while my oxfords with no traction slid on the darkening sand. If I had my choice I would be wearing one of my Tommy Bahama shirts. Ella and I bought matching ones with dark green stems and explosions of birds of paradise in pinks and purples on our honeymoon. We thought it would be funny, like an old married couple even though we were barely 20. Ironically I found loved the shirt and bought several more while on the trip. I enjoyed the comfort as well as the thought of being an old married couple. Marrying Ella was all I had ever wanted to do. She laughed at first with the shirts, but after a few weeks of me wearing them she grew tired of the joke. After a year she threw out her shirt. I continue to wear mine, thinking back to those white beaches, and the simple happiness of being young and in love. This cold beach is far from the tropical paradise of our honeymoon.

The line of white light imposing itself on the darkening sea and sky was growing as I approached. It was a comforting glow, but out of place. White artificial light tore through the grey, dreariness of the day. It looked sleek and modern, jetting out half a mile into the approaching storm. Windows and a roof, a hovering undisturbed tube of white. A knot began to form in my stomach. At the end of the pier was a flickering light of a torch. I could see a boat bobbing in the growing waves. I was alone on the beach in the rain, with only a pier that doesn't belong.

Walking on the beach reminded me of Ella. We continued walking on beaches even after our honeymoon. It may have not been the fine white everlasting sand beaches of the Caribbean, but the coarse and isolated pockets of our Northern Californian beaches still were beautiful, because I was with Ellie. I would come home from work and before the door closed behind me, Ellie would grab my hand and we were out again. We would walk up and down the coastline, picking up sea glass and probing jellyfish. We talked about everything that had ever happened to us. The time that I got stuck in a tree and had to be rescued by the fire department. Her difficulties cheerleading in high school while having vertigo. Her mom's alcoholism. My dad's alcoholism.

I swapped my Hawaiian shirts with a suit, and worked to build us a nest egg. As we mined our histories, my conversations leaned more to my work. My boss and office drama were all I had to offer, but luckily Ellie always had things to say. Eventually we knew every story from each other's history, and we slowly fell silent. It was a sign that we knew each other so well that we didn't need to speak, and could be comfortable in each other's silence. Recently I began getting uncomfortable with the silence. I fear that it is because we have nothing to say.

A child walked past me on the beach, coming from the direction of the pier. He looked to be nine years old and wore a suit, much nicer than mine. He was very serious. The bluetooth headset in his ear had a dim blue light illuminating his curly boyish brown hair. As he passed I overheard his shockingly deep voice.

“What? You have to repeat yourself Toby, I cannot hear a thing you are saying. I'm by the ocean and the waves are deafening.” I did not hear any crashing waves, but was distracted by what I was making eye contact with. In place of his eyes, were silver quarters. They were wet and emotive, but unmistakably quarters. Showing youthful glee that comes from being young and near the sea. But they were unmistakably silver in color, with eagles with stretched wings. When he blinked they flipped sides to a presidential profile.

The deep voice continued, “ I thought we scrapped the McNearson plans? No, we don't want a merger. No. That is the last thing we want, we are looking to split up the assets. Yeah, break it up. It doesn't matter if that's not what they want. They no longer have a say in the matter.” He made eye contact with me, but did not break his pace “Can’t get away from the office even on a beach huh?”

I did not respond. I was transfixed on the small boy. He winked at me and continued on his path, flipping one eye back to an eagle

“From what I hear it's over. Caput. Roll Credits. Too bad they dont have any subsidiaries otherwise we could be making a bank.” His voice continued to strain to talk over sounds of waves that I did not hear. I only heard his voice and the light drumming of the rain drops. I watched as his tiny body struggled to continue through the sand. I preferred the beach when I was alone.

I turned from the boy and continued trudging to the pier, with a growing uncertainty on where I was headed. I needed to crane my neck to look up the sea soaked lumber. White light glowed out from the spotless windows, catching glimpses of the passing drops, illuminating them for a moment before they crashed into the ocean below. Identical black steel columns shot into the sand and into the grey water. I was in no rush to discover the end of the pier.

I convinced myself that I was curious about the underside of the wharf. As soon as I crossed the threshold of the black columns, there was an oppressive darkness. I looked at my black oxfords clearly on the sand, but there was unmistakable darkness between me and them. I was surprised to find myself warm. I looked around the strange warm darkness. The ocean water was still. I watched a wave begin to swell from the direction I came from. It pushed up from a shallow sandbar and began to fall upon itself. White foam bubbled and fell like dominos down the crest. Crashing down the length of the shore, until the darkness of the pier. Then there was no crash, no waves at all. Flat and suspicious. Out of the darkness, on the other side, the wave continued crashing.

The rain droplets on my head were replaced with beads of sweat. The strange nature of the pier was beginning to get to me. Along with the heat. I took off my suit jacket and threw it on the ground. I never wanted to wear it anyways.

I looked up at the ceiling of the pier, my temporary refuge from the rain, and noticed movement. Coils wrapped around themselves. They looked to be finely engraved into the darkness above, but moved about sporadically, each coil with a mind of its own. Some places were more calm and other places vibrated and danced. The whole thing seemed to be breathing. The coils moved and weaved like snakes, but when I traced one of its smooth bodies with my eyes, I saw horns and a mammal's face. A ram's head with a snake body. I traced another and found a pelican’s large beak. I saw a bear, a rat, and an ant. Each different, and each fighting amongst themself to get a space to inhabit. Dark impressions pushing on the bottom of the pier..

“I thought I would come visit you before you got on the boat” A far away voice said behind me. I cannot explain why I was not surprised when I heard the voice, nor when I turned to find a large hedge in the shape of a foot. Two large green feet actually. Connected to large mowed legs, like a putting green. A tall woman was looking down on me. Through the strange darkness I saw her slouched in a white picket fence bikini. The white wooden planks supported her top, with barbed wire coming over the shoulders. She looked uncomfortable, slouching in order to keep her tall grass hair from hitting the convulsing ceiling.

“Your wife was just here.” the distant voice continued. “She visited me a few times before this, when I was working in my pasture.” The Tall Woman put her hand out of the darkness and collected rain drops in her grassy hand. ”Everytime i come to the seaside it seems to be raining”

“Ellie visited you? Why?” I asked.

“She always just wanted to look around. I would pour her some lemonade and give her a tour of my farm. She loved the chickens. She was always sad to leave.” she said.

“Ellie never told me about farms or chickens or anything.”

“Are you sure you just weren't listening?”

“Have you been on the boat?” I asked, trying to change the subject. Tuning out Ellie had become more common as exhaustion from work had crept up

“Heavens no” she laughed, “ but most people I know have. Many before I knew them, but some after I met. I mean you have been on it before, right?”

“I don’t think so. I think I would remember this” I said.

The tall grass woman thought about this. “That makes sense I suppose, neither had Ellie. Oh this is not a good storm to go out in for the first time. Ellie was able to make it out before the worst of it, but I know she was worried about you.” The green woman stuck out her hand again to collect more rain. She gave me a kind smile.

I left the Tall Woman in the strange darkness under the pier. I walked up the large concrete steps, and to the entrance of the pier. I took a deep breath and looked up at the clouds that had been raining on me all day. I wiped my feet on the soggy mat and grabbed the tarnished brass handles on the glass door. A blast of cool manufactured air rushed out to greet me.

My oxfords echoed as I walked through the pier to the elevator. I could feel my socks pushing out and reabsorbing the water at every step. Sand grains repositioned between my soles and the polished white marble. White marble columns lined the large window panes, the storm englufing the pier and shore. It was calm inside.

In the middle of the room was a full cross section of a ponderosa pine, with the bark still attached on the edges. A seat was pulled out close to me at the top of the tree. Across the room, at the gnarled tree roots, a large brass cage faced me. Inside a large Vulture was perched. Her eyes were clawed out and crusted blood stained its feathers. She wore a black cloak and small reading glasses. A white wig shaked loosely on her head as it followed me precisely to my seat at the tree top. Once I sat she pecked a switch twice and an axe acted as a gavel and hit the table near her twice.

“Do you have anything to say?” The bird squawked.

I sat in silence, squirming under the nonexistence gaze of the corpse eater.

“I had been warned about your silence. A nasty thing to keep one's thoughts to themselves.”

“I’m innocent” I stammered uncertainly.

To this the vulture's hollow eyes looked up at me over the rim of its glasses.

“This court is not to determine fault. It is to make judgments, compromises, or arbitrations.” She said, and after a moment continued, “But I believe everyone is guilty, and you are no exception.”

“I have nothing to say though. I don’t know what's happening!” I blurted out.

“Even more dangerous. Someone who does nothing with the speech they do have.”

“Tell me about Ellie?”

“I’ve always kept Ellie happy.”

“Ha! And how do you do that?” The vulture cackled

“I provide for her and am nice to her.” I said defiantly.

“I should put you in this cage and give you all the food you want and we will see how happy you are!” the bird mocked

“Our honeymoon! We were happy on our honeymoon.” For a moment I was transported back to the warm white beaches, seeing a smile on Ellie that I hadn't seen in years.

“You cannot go back! The past is gone” The bird jumped about its cage angrily, bringing me back to the cold marbled room.

“What now? What do you do today?”

No choice seemed correct so I looked at my folded hands in my lap.

“Let's try something. See if we can get a thought into that skull of yours.” With that the vulture began cranking a wrench and a large black rectangular slab lowered from the roof. The gears squeaked as it lowered to a foot above the table. The vulture looked at me, I avoided its gaze looking at the mirrored black surface. It was a reprieve from the situation. I could see the bird in my periphery crooking its neck as it examined me. The brass cage began taking steps. I did not break my eyes off the black slab as the bird labored closer to me, fearful of a response from my judge.

The stomping continued to grow louder as the Vulture whirled around its cage, pulling the levers to bring the cage right up to my chair. Feeling the bird's foul breath on my face did not break my concentration.

“What a catch ” the bird squealed to herself. The black slab was pulled back into the ceiling.

Finally I relented and looked up at the bird towering above me.

“You say you are a kind provider, I will tell you what I see. A scared man, with sand slipping between his fingers as he tries to hold onto a sand castle in the rising tide. A man so content with what he has grown he has forgotten to water. You will get plenty of water out on the sea.” The vulture walked its cage back to the table and watched me as I left.

I walked out of the marbled and columned building, onto the end of the pier, now fully engulfed in the storm. The wind howled and rain pelted my face. As I approached the torch i noticed a cloaked figure the end of the pier I noticed the warm water flowing down my face. Tears running down my face.

“The boat is ready for you”

“I’m not ready for the boat.”

“Well you better get ready, this storm isn't going to get any calmer.”

“No! I'll just go back. The vulture can help.” I screamed, but as I turned around I saw nothing but rain falling on the open ocean. The marbled court and beach were gone.

“Where did they go, this can't be happening.” I said in a daze as I turned back to the cloaked man. He raised the lantern to me again. I took it limply.

“Happiness comes from the life you live, not the other way around.

“Ella was sad when she left as well.”