The Beach

Early morning light fell on the water like a soft blanket, illuminating the waves in brilliant, pale blue. The cool scent of fresh salt and low tide filled Charlie’s lungs as he knelt on the shore, hair whipping in the wind. White sand shifted smoothly beneath his sneakers as he steadied the camera in his cold hands. The waves crashing against the shore had set a steady heartbeat in his ears, only ever interrupted by rough gusts of wind that slapped across his rosy cheeks and billowed through his clothing. Charlie realigned his position as he admired the view before him. The solid dark blue lines of the battered old rollercoaster stood clear and defined against the rippling waves of the New Jersey coastline. It loomed eerily, casting a long shadow. Charlie couldn’t help but picture the ride as it used to be. An endless chorus of energized screaming rang through his head. He too, had been one of the young adventurers that had enjoyed riding the attraction. He remembered having so much fun that day. His sister had finally told him ‘enough’, after he had made her ride it for the seventeenth time. Charlie smiled to himself. It was almost sad, seeing the coaster in its current state. It was like a part of his childhood had died. Its life had been drained away as it sat isolated along the water, abused viciously by the elements. Color had faded from its rails and was replaced, as the metal rusted over in uneven reds and browns. Waves sloshed around the base of the pier as it groaned against the movement of the wind and tides. Charlie’s finger twitched as he captured the perfect image of a seagull as it landed and perched itself on top of the twisting track closest to the beach.

Just as he was lining up his next shot, the wind died down, and a string of curses echoed across the long strip of sand. Charlie tore his eyes off the horizon and looked over his left shoulder to see a young woman, not 50ft away from him, kicking sand out from under her shoes. She definitely didn't look happy. Charlie watched as she scoured the sand. Her dark hair was drifting loosely in the gentle sea breeze. If it had once been tidy, it certainly wasn't now, she must have been out here for a while. How had Charlie not noticed her sooner? Her jacket sat loosely on her shoulders, unzipped. It draped over a simple grey sweater and blue jeans. She leaned down to get a closer look at something in the sand hopefully, only to straighten with a frustrated grumble. The open ends of her blue jacket began to whip in the wind as it picked up again, swirling around her and sending her hair into a frenzy. She huffed angrily as she tugged a white knit hat from the pocket of her coat and yanked it aggressively over her head, trapping her unruly mess of hair beneath it. Charlie could only assume that he looked just as disheveled, he had been out here for almost two hours. He was only now realizing how numb his fingers felt. The wind had stripped him layer by layer of warmth and he had only now just realized it. He really wished he had brought a warmer jacket. Charlie figured he could come back later and get more photos. It wasn’t too far into September, winter was still a ways away. He would still have a few more chances to get some good nature shots without freezing his ass off. He was about to call it when he heard the woman let out a disappointed sigh. It was the most pitiful sound. Charlie swung his head back towards her to see that she had plopped herself hopelessly on the sand and was gazing sadly out towards the waves. She looked utterly defeated. She was picture perfect misery, the kind that really can't be fabricated or faked, it was too good to pass up the opportunity. Without thinking, Charlie raised his camera up towards her. She must have been paying some attention to him as well because Charlie could only manage to snap one photo before the woman turned towards him. She glared at him in a way that told him he was not helping her situation, and that he was about to regret it.

“Excuse me!” she shouted across the beach at Charlie.

The wind had died down again so that she didn't have to raise her voice to be heard, but she did it anyway.

“Could you maybe not do that? Thanks.” Her voice was stern as she pointed a finger at Charlie’s camera.

He lowered it quickly, letting it dangle from his neck. A sheepish look washed over his face as she turned back towards the view, looking no less upset than before. Charlie finished collecting his gear and sauntered over to where the woman still sat on the sand.

“Sorry. Force of habit.” He offered her a smile that clearly said ‘please don't yell at me.’

The woman looked back up at Charlie. He wouldn't have been surprised if her name was Medusa, her glare was truly withering. It made Charlie feel even colder.

“It’s a ‘force of habit’” she exaggerated her hands into air quotes “for you to photograph random strangers without their permission?” She asked her question in a way that he knew if he said ‘yes’ he would be very, very sorry.

“Um, no? No, of course not. I just meant…” Charlie was stammering.

Something about the way the woman was staring at him made him question every single one of his life choices. He had never been as sorry as he was then. He wanted to dig a large hole in the sand, crawl in it and hide.

“...I just prefer to capture things in the moment. That's all. I’m really sorry.” he said.

Charlie held the woman's eyes, not daring to look away. Her features changed so rapidly. It was like watching snow melt in fast forward.

“It's fine, you're forgiven.” she said.

Something about the way she said it, in the most disappointed tone, made Charlie feel even worse. She didn't seem to have the heart to stay mad at him or even demand that he delete his photo.

Charlie had not expected the woman’s anger to fade back to hopelessness so quickly. He would much rather she keep scolding him.

“Are you okay?” asked Charlie.

Immediately after he said it, Charlie realized it was a stupid question, she clearly wasn't, but he didn't want to pry. He watched her tentatively as she brought her hands to her face and settled them against her forehead. She let out an exasperated sigh of surrender, lifting her head towards the sky.

“No. No I'm not.” She exhaled deeply as she turned to meet the quizzical look on Charlie’s face. She sighed again. “I was looking for my grandmother’s ring.” Her voice was more delicate now, softer.

The woman seems so disappointed in herself, her eyes darting around nervously as if she was expecting Charlie to scold her. The ring clearly meant a lot to her.

“My friends and I had a fire on the beach last night and I guess…” She stumbled over the words like a child about to be scolded “...I guess it must have fallen out of my bag.”

The wind had picked up again, and sent the woman’s hair into a frenzy around her face. She quickly reaches up to tuck a few strands into her hat. She huffed as she checked the watch on her left wrist.

“Wonderful.” She let is slip out under her breath it in a sarcastic way that let Charlie know it was definitely not wonderful. When she glanced up again, Charlie met her with a confused expression painted across his face.

“I need to be at my shop for work in less than 30 minutes.” the woman explained.

Charlie couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl. He held his right hand out to her, keeping his left hand secured on his camera.

“Come on.” he said “I’ll help you look.”

The woman shot him a questioning glance before she smiled ever so softly at him and took his hand.

“I may not have one of those metal detector thingies, but I've got a pretty good eye.” Charlie added with a grin.

She let out a small snort, rolling her eyes as Charlie hauled her to her feet.

“This is where you think you dropped it?” Charlie started to scan the dips and divots in the pale sand.

He glanced back around to see the woman dusting sand off her pants. The pats echoed down the beach, carried further by the wind.

“I think so. We were sitting over there.” The woman pointed towards a small patch of indents in the sand.

They were all wrapped around a shallow fire pit. Charred remains of sticks and tinder laid unmoving on the sand. As Charlie approached, he could smell the smoky remnants of a warm fire mixed with the faint lingering stench of alcohol.

“Alright then, let's get looking.” Charlie knelt at the first section of footprints and began sifting around. “I’m Charlie by the way.”

He looked back at the woman, who was now digging across from him at the other end of the fire pit. The woman turned to look back at Charlie and smiled. The young woman was very beautiful when she smiled. Her blue eyes shimmered the color of the sea. Her dark hair stark against her pale skin. Charlie smiled politely back at her.

“Margot.” she said