One Way

He was hot. Heat from the sun bore down on his shoulders heavily like burdens. Sweat dripped down his temples like the sap of an old oak tree. Yet he was still for a moment. The calmness of the scorching afternoon was graced with gentle breezes from a nearby sea. He inhaled the aroma of water and salt, and briefly considered how long it would take him to trek to the beach.

Why bother? he wondered.

He scoffed at his temptation. He knew that he hated the beach. He always had. The very first time that he drifted too far from the shore and realized the ocean’s massive power, he understood fear. Although it wasn’t apparent to him that his disdain for the water was rooted in trauma, he had plenty of other reasons to avoid the coast.

The sand. The birds. The feeling of seaweed between his toes, or broken shells beneath the soles of his feet. The smell of salt that would linger on his skin long after he emerged from the water – if he even got around to that part. And the hordes of young people, uncontrolled dogs, and cyclists.

He shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable and aware of his loneliness. The blistering heat of the afternoon danced on his darkened skin. He looked around briefly at the piles of clothes, furniture and debris, and then squinted into the distance toward the water. There were no homes near the place where he stood, just mountains, dirt, and what used to be an empty highway. A highway that was now littered with treasures from the broken homes of people he’d never meet. People who had likely perished unaware that their memories would scatter the earth and torment lone strangers.

When the news of the superstorms broke, he was surrounded by life and love. His twin daughters were beautiful gymnasts, with a keen ability to garner his attention and generosity. His wife, a gentle spirit with an insatiable desire for his affirmation and affection. His colleagues, who looked to him for support and leadership despite his understated position. His friends, who constantly reminded him of the joys of his waning youth.

He was important, admired, beloved. Yet he was also spiteful, selfish and neglectful — qualities that he’d only come to realize in his solitude. In hindsight.

His eyes dropped down to his shadow as regret swelled in his throat. He swallowed dryness and heartache as he touched the pocket where he kept a heart-shaped locket. He felt comforted as a gentle breeze wrapped around him and let him go as quickly as it came. He thought of his wife, and how grateful he was that she wasn’t wearing her locket and had instead packed it in her travel bags. Bags that he found floating at the entrance of their neighborhood a few months after the superstorms passed. It wasn’t hard for him to spot the bright purple nylon suitcase bobbing against the brick display without purpose. He still remembered the way his heart sank when he recognized it.

That entire summer his daughters had been begging him to go to the beach. His wife engaged. It’s all they talked about, the three of them. Chattering and giggling about music, boys, tanning and volleyball – he’d never even known how much they’d liked volleyball. Like the rest of the world, they didn’t take the threat of the superstorms seriously because a great majority of meteorologists had predicted that the sporadic occurrences would be contained in the Southern Ocean. The internet was the only place that was buzzing with any accuracy, but science was more trustworthy than conspiracy.

He told his family at the last minute that he wouldn’t join them on the trip, and reminded them that it wasn’t because of fear, but because he hated the beach. He’d initially felt no guilt skipping the trip to spend the weekend at his office because they had known all along that he didn't want to go. The sky-scraping office building was one of the largest in the city, and as rain relentlessly poured from the heavens flooding the streets within minutes, he resented the view that he once boasted about. There was no warning, or preparation, or escaping the wrath of the flood waters that quickly destroyed everything in their path. He spent months starring out into the former metropolis, too fearful to take a faith-filled plunge, wondering if his family made it to a safe place.

He winced at his luck, and finally wiped the sweat from his furrowed brows. A cool breeze swept past him again, smelling of sea and rock, alluring him with respite. He inhaled the fragrance deeply and exhaled the vision of past faces. He swayed back on to his heels and hung his head.

He hesitated for only another moment, and then he pressed forward.