Cresting Time: Day 28
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Part 28 of 31
Back at home I pulled out my phone and checked for updates from Lindi or Becca.
Nothing,
I texted them both:
Anna (to Lindi): What are you talking about?
Anna (to Becca): Are you okay? What’s going on?
It was strange that Becca’s group text went unanswered. My friends were addicted to their phones.
Anna (to Derek): Are you still at the party? What’s going on?
Silence.
I brushed my teeth. Put on my pajamas. And heard my phone chime.
Alex: I had fun tonight.
I sighed. I had fun tonight too. But for some reason I felt guilty texting Alex when I was worried about my friends from home.
Alex: See you on the beach in the am?
Alex: I work at 8
Anna: Okay. I’ll head north around 7.
Alex: smiley emoji
Alex: good nigh.
Anna: night
Anna: see you tomorrow
Alex: heart emoji
I climbed into bed and picked up the yellow journal. Maybe some reading would distract me from the fact that I hadn’t heard from any of my friends.
June 18, 1990
Something terrible has happened. I feel it in my bones. MM and I have been thinking about what could have happened to S. No-one doubts she’d try to escape J — he is crazy. But not going home seems so weird. She missed her sister’s wedding. No-one would just blow that off, would they?
I didn’t think so either.
June 21, 1990
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
There was a front page article today about a body that was discovered near Seaport Pier. It was a young woman, between 20 and 24, dark hair, brown eyes, 5 feet 4 inches with a tattoo of a sunflower on her shoulder. She had no identification on her. The coroner estimated that she’d been dead approximately between 3 and 4 days.
I felt my stomach drop.
It was S. It was definitely S.
When I showed the article to J he just brushed it off. We don’t know anything. He told me. Stop making trouble.
I insisted we go to the police and he told me not to get involved. It was probably some trashy stripper. I told you S went home. He said.
And her parents said she never turned up.
Whatever. He said and walked out slamming the door behind him.
I didn’t believe him.
Later I talked to T and he and Margalyn agreed we should call the police.
June 22, 1990
The police came out today for a “visit”. I showed them our room with S’s stuff still in. They took her hairbrush, her toothbrush and some photos.
We explained that she had come with J and then supposedly gone home, but didn’t take any of her stuff. They asked to speak to J, but of course he wasn’t around. They asked us to have him call when he showed up.
If he showed up.
It’s obvious the police think the dead girl is S. It’s hard to believe that she’s dead. I mean — we know a dead girl. We knew a dead girl. I don’t know — it’s too confusing.
God — how can she be dead? I really liked her.
June 23, 1990
The police came back today. They said they had some questions for J. We said he wasn’t here. They said they could get a warrant. T said go ahead. He’s not here.
B sat in her room crying all day. She doesn’t handle stress well.
G went back to Philly for a business meeting. Figures.
June 25, 1990
MM and I decided to go out last night. We went to the Crow’s Nest. The bartended asked about J. Said he hadn’t seen him in days. The last time he was in he was acting really strange. Seemed nervous and kept throwing back shots.
I asked when this was and he said a little over a week ago. Hmmm . . .
MM pulled me away to the dance floor and I tried to forget about everything and just have fun. After a bit a cute guy approached us and asked if he could buy us a drink. Yes! I said enthusiastically! The more drinks the better.
I don’t even remember his name.
We tossed back lemon drops and danced fast and slow. And by the time it was last call I was seriously considering going home with him. But MM wrote my number on his wrist and dragged me out of there. Or so she said.
I can’t remember most of it.
I woke up this morning feeling dehydrated and tired. But at least I’m alive. And so grateful I didn’t wind up in someone else’s bed.
Or in the ocean.
MM is the best friend ever.
MM and I made a pact to look out for each other this summer. Not that we didn’t before. But after S this place no longer felt safe.
I felt a shiver down my spine. I looked at the clock, 1:17 a.m. I was exhuasted. And if I were going to meet Alex in the morning I needed to get some sleep.
I checked my phone one more time. No messages.
Damn.
* * *
I tossed and turned most of the night. When the sun broke through my restless lumber I still felt tired. I forced myself out of bed and quickly checked my phone. Still nothing.
I exhaled and put my feet on the floor. I quickly brushed my teeth, pulled my hair into a messy bun and slipped on a swimsuit and a pair of shorts.
I opened the glass doors and shivered as a cool breeze blew off the ocean. I pulled the sweatshirt I had never worn last night over my head, slipped my phone on the pocket and headed outside.
I looked out the ocean, watching the pink sun light up the horizon. I waked toward to the ocean but stopped short of splashing in the surf. I was afraid the cool ocean water would make me too cold.
I scanned the horizon looking for dolphins, or maybe sharks. After last night I was convinced that great whites were patrolling just off shore. But I didn’t see anything of note.
About ten minutes later I saw Alex jogging toward me. I made sure to keep my eyes focused on him so I didn’t get in his way. I didn’t want to land in the water this morning.
He wasn’t even out of breath when we met on the shore. “Hi,” he said smiling.
“Hi.”
“You look beautiful.”
I laughed out loud. “Are you high?’
“No. Just sleep deprived. I had a hard time falling asleep last night.”
“Me too.” I didn’t disclose why.
“Not that that’s the reason,” he said, stammering over his words. “I mean you do look beautiful. You are always beuatiful. Not just when I’m sleep deprived.”
I smiled. He took my hand and said, “Let’s walk this way.” We headed north towards the Boardwalk.
“I was thinking,” Alex said. “You can’t leave Wildwood without going to Diamond Beach. Or having ice-cream from seashells. I have to work until 4. But maybe I could pick you up after for ice-cream and Cape May diamond hunting.”
I wanted to say yes. But I was worried about Mom. She would flip out if she knew I had a date. Because this definitely would be a date.
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” Alex said.
“Well then forget it,” I joked. “That’s no fun.”
He smiled. “What do you say?”
“It sounds like fun. Let me just make sure my Mom doesn’t freak. I’ll text you before noon.”
He looked disappointed, but said, “Okay..” The he quickly kissed my nose, turned on his heel and said, “See you later.”
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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.
