Memoirs in the Sand

A man stands near a palm tree. He looks out across the ocean. Behind him resorts spread out with only the sand to hold back the encroaching cement. The man fumbles with a hair tie in his hand. Red with spots of white, the hair tie feels worn in his hand. The constant kneading taking its toll. The man sighs and pockets the hair tie.

A tinge of orange has flooded the beach. As hard as the horizon tries, the sun’s slow advance brings shadows to the mans surroundings. Families have packed up and treaded back to their rooms to prepare for supper. Lone couples hold each other on the soft white sands. A kid plays fetch with his dog. The man smiles.

He notices someone. Walking along the way, another man approaches. Though meandering, this stranger’s path seems to end at the man’s palm tree. Wearing a breezy white polo with white khakis, the last of the sunset glances off his round glasses. The man smiles as he approaches.

“Hello there.” He hails as he approaches.

Mark, uncomfortable at the approaching stranger, starts to put on his sandals.

“Well, hold on if you don’t mind.” The man says, raising up a hand.

Mark bows his head and quickly scurries away from the tree.

***

Mark tries to enjoy his vacation. Dr. Abrams had urged him that regular time off was good for a man with his condition. His heart hadn’t been the same since the wreck. Goes without saying that his brain was not either. He knew his knees would need some rest too. And his back had been troubling him. Or perhaps the gout in his ankles had come back?

Mark shook his head in frustration. Constant fussing. Constant tests, needles, prods and pokes, people looking over him like some sort of specimen. No one addressing the void that was the past twenty years of his life. Parents he forced himself to love, a brother he made himself get dinner with. Yet, everyone dancing around the accident. Mark found himself gripping his fork rather harshly. Knuckles whitening, he took a breath and relaxed. He touched his right pocket.

The Dr’s had told him. His daughter was in the car with him. She didn’t survive. His family wouldn’t talk about it. Mark forced the food on his plate into his mouth. He forced the wine on the table into his stomach. He forced a smile at the waiter when they came by. And he forced himself to enjoy the view of soft waves caressing an off white beach.

***

Mark found himself by the palm tree again. A singular landmark surrounded by marketing. Those resorts loomed higher than the tree could even hope. Its slender shadow slowly circling as the sun dial does. He sat beside the tree and leaned against it.

The orange glow found the beach once more. And, once more the stranger approached. This time he watched. The man wore a blue button up with khaki shorts this time. His round glasses reflecting the sun.

The man smiled as he approached. Mark stood up and brushed the sand off his person but did not rush off.

“Can I say hello again?” The man asked. He slowed his walk as he got closer.

Mark nodded. “I, apologize for yesterday.”

The man waved it off. “I guess if a stranger approached me on the beach like that I’d do the same.”

Mark shrugged, he motioned to the plenty of sand beside him. The man sat down.

“I was in a state yesterday. Wasn’t feeling, myself I guess. Came here alone you see. So, just let my emotions get the better of me.”

The man shrugged. “I get that, I came here alone too. Just needed a vacation.”

“Me too.”

The two sat there, watching the ocean press against the beach.

“It’s something my therapist told me.” The man said.

“What?” Asked Mark.

“Introduce myself to people. Get out there you know? Apparently I’m too self isolated. He told me, ‘go on a vacation, talk to whoever you can and maybe even get piss drunk.”

Both men laughed.

“My Doctor told me something similar. Though, I doubt he would look kindly at me getting piss drunk. Maybe just regular drunk will do.” Mark said.

The man smiled at him. “I think whatever form of relaxation is taken, is probably the best bet for us both.”

“Relaxation taken. Relaxation taxation. Funny pair of words.”

“Just came from here,” The man tapped his head chuckling again. “I’ve come here before though. Used to be that resort down there.” He pointed further down the beach front.

Mark nodded. “I haven’t been here before. But my family suggested it.”

The man nodded along and looked back out to the ocean. Mark glanced his way.

“I uh. Tried out a different one this time around.” The man said, his voice quieter.

Mark kept looking out towards the ocean. “How come?”

The man brought his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, gently putting his chin atop. “I would come here with family. My daughter would play on a beach closer to the resort. My husband would swim with her. We were…. Pretty happy.”

Mark looked over at him. “What happened?”

The man sighed. “Well, medical complications. Divorce. We lost our daughter due to… health. Just sad happenstances the world likes to give those who grace its presence.”

“Grace its presence.” Mark repeated. He pulled out the hair tie.

The man looked over at the hair tie. He laid his legs back flat on the sand and put the knuckles of one hand on his mouth.

“My daughter. Some years back. She passed too.” Mark said.

The man had tears in his eyes. Mark could see him shaking slightly.

“Is that?” The man asked.

“Yeah… couldn’t even think of parting with it.”

The man’s eyes were watering.

“I’m sorry, are you okay? I was just trying-“

The man stood up. He wiped his eyes and looked down at Mark. He held a hand up to his eyes and let out a sob. The man turned away and walked back across the beach.

Mark watched him go. He felt bad. He looked down at the hair tie. Kneading it in his hand. He felt his own emotions pushing forth. Stifling a tear.

Mark watched the man leave, and looked back across the ocean of blue.