Cresting Time: Day 10
Part 10 of 31
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I woke to wavy of rays of sunlight bouncing through my windows.
Damnit, was my first thought.
I had taken my time getting ready for bed last night. Slowly brushing my teeth and changing into my pajamas. Scrolling for my Insta feed and shooting off a few text messages while my phones was safely connected to a power source. And then, when I thought Dad might have gone to bed, returning to the kitchen for a glass of water I “forgot”.
I was hoping to grab the pile of journals and the scrapbook to study in the safety of my room. But I saw the television was still glowing. And, did I hear Dad talking to someone?
I returned to my room and. apparently, fell promptly to sleep.
Sighing, I pushed the light blanket to the end of the bed and climbed out of bed.
At least the storm was over. The house was still intact. And Mom would be happy that we could enjoy all her Hurricane meals all week.
I grabbed my phone from the desk and blinked when I saw the time. My eyes widened. 6:36. Seriously.
I sighed again. Figures. Finally free from having to wake in the dead of night to go to swimming practice before school and now I was turning into an early riser.
It was going to be a long day.
I opened my sliding glass doors and stepped out into the morning air. It was cool, but not cold. A gentle breeze fluttered the curtains and I thought of asking Mom if we could replace them with some black out drapes while we occupied the house. The view from this room was beautiful, but not conducive to sleeping.
I looked out to the ocean, which had respectfully receded back to its proper place 300 yards away. Waves lapped the shore and small sea birds jumped in and out of the puddles left behind. I felt like they were calling me to explore.
A few minutes later I was heading across the wide open beach. The wind picked up as I neared the water and strands of hair escaped my hastily assembled ponytail kept whipping me in my face.
I tucked the wild pieces behind my ears and made my way towards the ocean. The sun was climbing in the sky, promising a beautiful summer day. But for now, the sand was cool under my feet and I buried my toes with each step.
I noticed piles of driftwood, an abandoned beach chair and few errant flip flops dotting the sand. A rumpled towel in bright blue and yellow sat in a ball like a beacon in the midst of the white beach. Overhead the gulls squawked good morning as they made their way back and forth from the ocean to the shore.
When I reached the water I headed north towards Wildwood. I was hoping to make it as far as the boardwalk, which I thought was about a twenty minute walk. I hadn’t gotten a chance to check it out yet, but after flipping through the book last night I was curious to see what it was all about.
There weren’t many people out and about yet. I didn’t know if this as due to the storm, the attacks or the early hour. Although, I thought that daybreak was a popular time on the beach.
I did see an older couple walking in the break. And a family playing with a dog up near the road. A few of the homes I passed by had people sitting other patios. And one brave woman was headed toward the sea her swimsuit for an early morning swim.
The thought of that sent a shiver through my spine.
Although I loved to swim and had been swimming competitively for almost a decade, the thought of all the unseen things lurking in the ocean turned my blood cold.
As I made my way north the private residences gave way to motels and hotels. I was surprised by the number of small motels with kitchy names lake Armada By-The-Sea, The Blue Marlin and the Jolly Roger.
These place promised beach front views, heated pools and playgrounds for the kids. They ere painted in pinks and oranges and aquas. And while many were in excellent condition, they seemed an unlikely vacation spot.
It was surprising that such prime real estate hadn’t been snatched up by big luxurious resorts or even condo communities. A few more beach walkers made their way through the metal gates of these rentals and headed toward the beach. I found their presence comforting.
Near the water the evidence of the storm was greater. There were giant piles of seaweed, miscellaneous pieces of wood and broken shells littered the shore. I passed by several Horseshoe crabs lying on the sand and more dead fish that I would have cared to see.
I kept my eyes focused on the sand so as not to accidentally step on a fish carcass. I let my mind wander to what it would feel like to vacation here if everything was “normal”.
I envisioned kids flying kites on the beach, people parasailing overhead. Maybe the rumbling of jet ski engines as vacations raced by.
I was so lost in my daydream that I didn’t even realize I was headed directly for a runner until I was only steps away from him. His presence startled me and I jumped out of the way, losing my footing and tumbling down into the ocean.
“Ooof!” I said as I landed with a thud on the hard packed sand. And then, “Ooooh,” as the water rushed around me.
He stopped running and looked down at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”
I looked up at him from the sand. Smooth, Anna. Real smooth.
He shook his head. “I watched you heading right for me. But I kept thinking you would move out of the way. People usually do, you know?”
Irritation bubbled inside me. I was already embarrassed about almost colliding with him and then planting myself on the ground. And now he was going to chastise me too.
“I said I’m sorry. I was looking at the ground and not paying attention.”
“Nah. It’s not a big deal. It’s not the first time it happened. Beach is usually crowded with tourists this time of year. Half of ’em are just like you, looking for shells. Even though this isn’t a great shelling beach. And the other ones are staring off into the ocean. I’ve had my share of collisions. Just glad it’s not me in the water this morning.” He smiled.
Great. He thought I was a tourist obsessed with finding shells. Probably easier to just let him think that.
He reached out a hand. “Come on, let’s you get you out of the surf.”
I took his extended hand and let him pull me up. But I wasn’t prepared for his force and wound up stumbling and bumping into him.
What was wrong with me?
“You okay?” He asked.
“Yeah. Sorry. Again,” I said.
He released my hand and lifted his sunglasses to his head. “One last hurrah of the summer?” he said.
“We are renting a house down the beach” I said, pointing south.
“That’s cool,” he said. “It’s quiet down there. Although this year it’s been quiet everywhere. Good surfing too. I mean, for New Jersey.”
“So you’re a local?” I asked. And then bit my tongue. What a stupid question! And why did I care?
He grinned at me, his blue eyes glinting in the sun. “Yeah. A local. I actually like that term. Most of the tourists call us “townies”. Not that I’m ashamed of that. I feel lucky I got to grow up on the beach.”
I think I knew what he meant. I hadn’t been here long and already the spell of the ocean was casting it’s magic on me.
“This place is pretty amazing.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Of course, I’m still counting the days until I can get out of here?”
“Really?” I asked. I wondered why someone would want to move away from a home that was pretty much permanent vacation. Then I remembered the storm last night. “Where you headed to?”
“Well, on Wednesday I’m headed to Wildwood High School, fine educational institution that it is. After graduation, though, probably North Carolina. Going to open my own surf and dive shop.”
I nodded. “That’s cool,” I said. More because I didn’t know what else to say.
None of m friends from home had any idea what they were going to do after graduation. Most were planning on some expensive college, but other than partying for the next four years there were very few plans. It was refreshing to hear someone my age actually have a goal for the future. Especially one that didn’t include college.
“I’m Alex,” he said. Extending his hand again.
“Anna.” I reluctantly shook his hand. And tried to resist the urge to wipe it on my shorts. “I’m sorry I interrupted your run.”
“Nah. It’s cool. I had already done about 5 miles anyway. I was thinking about grabbing a cup of coffee from Crusaders before heading back. Want to join me?”
I looked down at my wet shorts and soggy t-shirt. I didn’t even have a pair of shoes with me, much less money. I didn’t even bring my phone so I couldn’t use Apple Pay.
“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t think I’m dressed for it.”
He laughed. “This is a beach town. A bikini is pretty much all you need to be dressed for anything.”
“I don’t even have shoes.” I was hoping to not have to admit I also didn’t have the foresight to bring money. It never occurred to me I’d be stopping somewhere when I left my room this morning.
“That’s cool too. Most of the places say ‘No shoes, no service.’ But I’ve never seen it enforced. And if it makes you feel better you can hang on the patio and I’ll grab our drinks.”
I wanted to go with him. I really did. I wanted to find a cool coffee spot. And see a little bit of the town. And maybe even make a friend. Especially a cute one. But that didn’t change the money situation.
“I can’t. I didn’t bring any money. I just didn’t . . .”
He cut me off. “That’s cool. I think I can afford two cups of coffee.”
“No. You don’t have to . . . “
“I know. I want to. Think of it as my way of saying sorry for you winding up in the water.”
“That was my own fault.”
“It was. But I still feel bad. I could have moved out of the way.” Then, switching gears, “Have you had Crusaders?”
I shook my head.
“You do drink coffee, don’t you?”
“Of course.” I didn’t actually trust people who don’t drink coffee.
“Then it’s settled. Come on. We’re going to Crusaders.”
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Lisa Walton is a former lawyer, forever teacher and writer/ghostwriter who writes about education, parenting and personal growth. She is a firm believer in the power of a well-told story. She is passionate about helping kids cultivate the curiosity, creativity and confidence to chase their dreams. “It’s never too late to reinvent yourself and craft the life you want to live.” You can find her on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter.
