\nOn the Beach<\/p>\n
She was sitting just outside the firelight. When Tom had glanced over, just a few minutes before, she wasn\u2019t there. Now, she was off to his right, sitting all alone. He caught her looking at him. He smiled and turned his head. The next time she seemed to be looking at someone or something behind him. He spun to see who might have caught her eye, but there was nobody back there.
\nShe reminded him of one of those girls in the movies, the best friend of the hot chick. She was pretty in her own right, but was usually lost in the glare of the friend and uncomfortable in the darkness when the star wasn\u2019t around. The light from the beach bonfire didn\u2019t illuminate her, but he saw her attractiveness in the glow from the moon and stars. She was wearing a plain sundress and her dark hair was pulled back.
\nTom grabbed a couple beers from the cooler and walked over. She didn\u2019t look up until he was right in front of her. Her eyes were as dark as her hair. He took one bottle by the neck and held it out towards her.
\n\u201cHi. Like one?\u201d
\nShe shook her head and looked down at the sand around her feet. Her silence was accentuated by the crowd behind him and the soft crash of the nearby waves.
\n\u201cI was getting hot and the smoke started blowing in my face. Mind if I join you?\u201d
\nShe gave him a slight smile and wiped at the log next to her, as if sweeping off a spot for him. He sat and put the beers next to his feet. He turned to the girl and put his right hand forward. \u201cI\u2019m Tom.\u201d
\n\u201cDorothy,\u201d she said, holding the backs of her fingers towards him, almost like she wanted him to kiss her hand. He shook it awkwardly.
\n\u201cNice to meet you.\u201d
\nHe was met with silence again. Oh, great, he thought. If she\u2019s as shy as I am, this is going to go nowhere fast.
\n\u201cI\u2019ve been here for a couple weeks, but haven\u2019t seen you around. Are you here with someone?\u201d
\n\u201cNo. I don\u2019t know anyone. I just saw the fire and wanted to be close.\u201d
\n\u201cI came down with my cousin, Will. We know a few of the people.\u201d He pointed to the other side of the fire. \u201cHe\u2019s the one taking out the guitar.\u201d
\nAw geez, a few drinks and the guitar. Here we go. And sure enough, Will struck an odd chord and started singing \u201cBlowin\u2019 in the Wind.\u201d
\n\u201cWe get in a crowd like this, and Will\u2019s had a few beers, he starts singing Bob Dylan songs. I tell him that nobody wants to hear that crap, it\u2019s our grandfather\u2019s music for God\u2019s sake. Then he says, \u2018They\u2019re classic for a reason.\u2019 You like Dylan?\u201d
\nShe gave the slightest shoulder shrug. \u201cI don\u2019t know him.\u201d
\n\u201cTrust me, you aren\u2019t missing anything.\u201d
\nShe smiled at that. Tom took a long drink from his bottle. Liquid encouragement.
\n\u201cI hear this all the time, and I\u2019m not in the mood for it tonight. You wanna walk down the beach or something?\u201d
\n\u201cSure.\u201d
\nHe stood and held his hand out. Dorothy placed her fingers in his palms and he helped her up. Her fingers were chilly, and he found himself wishing he had a jacket to offer.
\n\u201cAre you cold?\u201d
\n\u201cNo. I\u2019m quite comfortable. Are you?\u201d
\n\u201cNo. I\u2019m good.\u201d But as they stepped away from the bonfire a gust blew in from the ocean and gooseflesh crawled up his arm.
\nThey walked along the sand, the noise of the bonfire crowd vanishing behind them. Tom tried to wait for her to break the silence, but she was content not speaking. The girl walked close beside him, her shoulder brushing the top of his left arm from time to time. It was a kind of intimacy he\u2019d never experienced with a stranger before.
\n\u201cI\u2019m heading back to Boston College in a couple weeks. Are you in school?\u201d
\n\u201cNo. High school was all I needed.\u201d
\n\u201cReally? So what do you do with yourself?\u201d
\n\u201cOh, you know\u2026\u201d She trailed off as if he truly could fill in the blank of what encompassed her life.
\nHe got lost in his thoughts, trying to imagine this pretty girl\u2019s life. She obviously wasn\u2019t spending her time on the beach. She was pale. The moonlight almost made her glow. He was certain she wasn\u2019t married or engaged; he\u2019d checked for a ring. And the fact that she was alone and walking with him seemed to rule out a boyfriend, too.
\nHe was trying to figure out if she was a local or a summer person when he realized that she wasn\u2019t adding to the conversation. He\u2019d have to try to get things started yet again.
\nAnother strong breeze came in from the ocean, blowing the tips of her hair against his face and neck. The gentle brush tickled, and he shivered again.
\n\u201cYou know,\u201d she said. \u201cOn a night like this, at this time of the year, it\u2019s warmer in the water. Come on.\u201d Dorothy peeled off her dress and tossed it into the beachgrass near the dunes.
\nTom\u2019s jaw dropped. Where\u2019d this come from. She stood before him in her white underwear. She didn\u2019t have much of a chest, but her bra was heavy-duty. The word industrial came to mind. It wasn\u2019t like any he\u2019d ever seen before. The few girls he\u2019d been with didn\u2019t even wear bras most of the time. He watched her do that trick that girls do, a twist, a stretch, and a wiggle, and the bra was off, joining the dress in the grass.
\nShe patted the back of his hand and ran to the water, into the moonlight reflection. He jerked off his shirt and took two steps before dropping his pants. He should follow the lady\u2019s example. And besides, he had to keep his phone and wallet dry.
\nWhen Tom looked back up, she was gone. She had run into the water right in front of him, she couldn\u2019t be more than twenty or thirty feet away. The water should be way too shallow for swimming, and even then, he\u2019d see her kicking legs. But there were only the undisturbed waves, marching to the shore.
\nTo his mind, the whole scene had been playing like the opening of \u201cJaws\u201d and now he was scared. He called out, \u201cDorothy!\u201d
\nAs if on command, she popped out of the water, just beyond the breakers, a hundred feet from the beach. She bent back her head, wiping stray hairs from her face. \u201cAre you coming?\u201d she shouted.
\nTom ran until he had to high-step in the water, then dove and swam out to her. She was right about the warmth. The water was much more comfortable than the air. He stood up and shook the water from his face and hair.
\nThe water was shoulder deep and they were softly buffeted by the waves. She embraced him, pulling herself close, hard nipples prodding into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, unsure of what else to do. Even after the past hour, she was a complete stranger. He wanted to kiss her, but he didn\u2019t have the nerve to try.
\nShe put the side of her head against his shoulder. \u201cYou remind me of a boy,\u201d she said. He brought one hand up and stroked her hair. \u201cMy parents didn\u2019t like him. They called him a hoodlum. Just because he hung with Frank Barelli. But he was nice. Are you nice, Tom?\u201d
\nThe question took him aback. \u201cI think I am.\u201d
\nShe hugged him tighter, then let go and disappeared under the water again. The stars were vanishing as clouds gathered, so it was almost impossible to see, but there was no sound of her splashing anywhere. She was the quietest swimmer Tom had ever been around.
\nHe spun to look in every direction for any sign, and saw her in the shallows near the beach. He swam in as fast as he could, letting the waves help him along the way. By the time he reached the sand, she had put her sundress on her wet body and was holding out his clothes to him.
\nAs he pulled on his shorts, she started walking west again. He went after her, awkwardly trying to pull on his shirt as he jogged.
\nThey came to a break in the dunes and she turned toward a house up the beach. \u201cGood night, Tom.\u201d
\n\u201cWhat? Already?\u201d
\n\u201cI have to go.\u201d
\n\u201cCan I see you again? Maybe tomorrow?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d She paused, and looked at Tom with a stare that told him not to interrupt. \u201cTonight was nice, but you\u2019re just another boy who\u2019s going to leave. And every time, you don\u2019t come back.\u201d
\n\u201cWell, yeah, I\u2019m going back to school, but\u2014\u201d
\nDorothy grabbed his arms and pressed her cool lips against the corner of his mouth. Goose pimples sprang from his arms, but an electric heat shot through his feet. She pushed away, spun, and ran to the house. He wanted to run after, but his legs felt stunned by that shock.
\nA cloud passed over the moon as she ran into the shadows along the house and he didn\u2019t see her re-emerge from the darkness.
\nTom took two steps toward the house, then realized if he wanted any chance with her, he\u2019d have to wait.
\nHe turned and walked back to the bonfire, wet body shivering in the cool night. As he traced his own footprints back along the beach, he thought it odd how the waves had washed away the girl\u2019s prints, but not his own.
\n#####
\nThe clouds that gathered at the end of the night had become a storm by the next morning and Tom spent the day at his uncle\u2019s place in town.
\nThe following day, he rode his bike out to the house at the beach. He hated showing up uninvited, but had to see Dorothy again. He stopped on the shoulder across the street and walked up the board sidewalk to the house.
\nHe knocked, and a middle-aged woman answered the door. \u201cYes?\u201d she asked.
\n\u201cHi. Is\u2026 uh\u2026 is Dorothy at home?\u201d
\n\u201cI think you have the wrong house,\u201d the woman said, and started to close the door.
\n\u201cNo. We met on the beach the other night and I dropped her off here.\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry, that wasn\u2019t anyone who lives here. Good day.\u201d
\nThe woman pushed the door further, making it clear that he was dismissed, but left it open enough to watch him leave. Tom turned and stepped off the porch.
\nHe was about halfway down the walk when he heard a mumbled commotion behind him. It ended with a clear, \u201cMother, don\u2019t do this.\u201d
\nThen he heard another voice call to him. \u201cYoung man.\u201d He turned and saw an elderly woman at the door. She must have been eighty or so. Maybe almost as old as his great grandmother. \u201cDid you say you were looking for Dorothy?\u201d
\n\u201cYeah. Dorothy. You know her?\u201d
\nThe woman stepped back and opened the door. \u201cMaybe you should come in.\u201d
\nIn the back he heard the other woman. \u201cMom!\u201d
\n\u201cYou hush. It\u2019s my house and he\u2019s my guest.\u201d She looked back at Tom and waved him forward. He followed her into the living room and she motioned at a sofa, inviting him to sit.
\n\u201cWhy are you here?\u201d she asked. Before he could answer, she walked over to a side table and picked up a picture.
\n\u201cI was at a bonfire down the beach the other night, and I met Dorothy. We walked for a while and she said goodnight to me out back and came into this house. Is she your granddaughter?\u201d
\nShe handed him the picture. \u201cShe was my aunt.\u201d
\nThe words barely registered to Tom. He was staring at a yellowing black and white photo of two young ladies in front of this house that looked like it was taken back around World War II. The younger one was unmistakably Dorothy.
\n\u201cBut I don\u2019t\u2026 What? No, no, it can\u2019t\u2026\u201d
\n\u201cDid she say anything to you?\u201d
\n\u201cWe talked. A little. She didn\u2019t say much.\u201d
\n\u201cDid she maybe tell you why?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know what you mean. Why what?\u201d
\n\u201cIn the fall of 1946, my grandfather awoke one morning and saw my Aunt Dorothy walking out into the ocean. At first, he thought nothing of it. She loved the water. A moment later, he realized she was fully dressed. He ran down to the shoreline calling her name. He said she turned to him once and waved, then calmly walked until the water was over her head. He swam out to where she went under, but she was gone. No one ever saw her again.\u201d
\n\u201cNo. No, you\u2019re lying. We talked. She held my hand. She kissed me.\u201d
\n\u201cThis isn\u2019t the first time, young man. Tell me. Did she tell you why she killed herself?\u201d
\n\u201cNo.\u201d
\nHe tossed the picture frame to the other end of the couch. He needed to get away. None it made any sense. He leapt from the couch.
\nThe old woman was in front of him and grasped his hands. \u201cPlease. Did she say anything? Anything.\u201d
\n\u201cNo. She said I reminded her of a boy. A boy her parents didn\u2019t like.\u201d
\n\u201cWho?\u201d
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know. Wait. Frank someone. Petrocelli or Garelli. Something Italian. No. He wasn\u2019t Frank, he was Frank\u2019s friend.\u201d
\n\u201cThat\u2019s all?\u201d
\n\u201cShe said he was nice, and she asked me if I was nice, and that was it. Then she said goodbye.\u201d
\nThe corners of the wrinkled mouth turned down and the old woman looked down at the floor. \u201cThank you.\u201d
\n\u201cOh, and then she said something about the boy leaving and never coming back.\u201d
\n\u201cBut here you are. You came back.\u201d
\nHe paused a moment. \u201cI guess I did.\u201d
\nThe woman wrapped him in her thin arms and hugged him with a strength he hadn\u2019t imagined she had. She took his face in her hands, pulled it down and kissed him under one eye. Then she walked him to the front hall, saying only \u201cThank you\u201d as she closed the door behind him.
\nTom walked around the house, down to the beach. The tide was pulling out and there was a wide expanse of smooth wet sand.
\nExcept for a single line of delicate footprints leading into the ocean.
\nEND.
\nby T. L. Emery<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
On the Beach She was sitting just outside the firelight. When Tom had glanced over, just a few minutes before, she wasn\u2019t there. Now, she was off to his right, sitting all alone. He caught her looking at him. He smiled and turned his head. The next time she seemed to be looking at someone…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_kad_post_transparent":"","_kad_post_title":"","_kad_post_layout":"","_kad_post_sidebar_id":"","_kad_post_content_style":"","_kad_post_vertical_padding":"","_kad_post_feature":"","_kad_post_feature_position":"","_kad_post_header":false,"_kad_post_footer":false,"_kad_post_classname":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-490","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/490","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=490"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/490\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=490"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=490"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/astoundingoutpost.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=490"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}