The Man at the Beach

There it is. I’ve waited six days for this. I am here waiting and I can feel it in the air. The Cyclone has stopped, all the children run off into the arms of their caretakers, grandmothers, grandfathers, and friends and here I am all alone. I can recall when Lea, Robert, Dan and I came here as a family, a family vacation you might say. We still would have; if Lea didn’t become a crack addict, maybe things would have been different. Now my children are around 30-40’s years old with children of their own planning “their family vacation” without their old man. You’d think they would come around more than ever. I stare over at the beach where dark thunderclouds forming in the distance. I sit there, I sat there tired, weak and cold but it was almost time.

“Good Evening, Sir” said a figure approaching.

“Who goes there?” I said. It was a stocky unkempt red head, his eyes with piercing dark-blue rims around the iris and then an even mix of pale blue and white rays in the iris; He was a well-dressed officer.

“How are you this evening” asked the officer as the wind tussled his red hair and exposed a scar that ran from his left earlobe to his left chin.

“Hello bud, I’m well” I said.

“I’m Officer Jay Kelly” he said with a grimace. “High tides are making their way in today, I think it may be best for you to head on home” said Jay Kelly.

“I’m just on my way out, I’m waiting on my wife, and you know how women are,” I said.

“Yep, I sure do” he said while pointing towards his scar. “Okay, well carry on, when your wife arrives be sure to head on out. You don’t want to stick around for what’s coming.”

“I’ll be sure not to, thanks, bud” I said.

“It’s Officer Jay Kelly,” he said, while walking away.

“Thanks, bud!” He shot back a glance as he made his way down the boardwalk, looking back every so often.

I looked at the time; it was only 6:20 pm, half an hour late for my medicine.

I swallowed my three pills. I took my first breath and the smell was racing through my nostrils and I felt alive more than usual. I knew it was coming and I was ready. The skies turned pitched black as the devil’s soul and the seagulls scattered for shelter. The world became heavier. The sky cackled with thunder and moment’s later splitting lighting. My body shook and I knew my heart could no longer wait. A torturous breeze blew off my beloved fedora and as I picked it up, I remembered the first time I laid eyes on my Ruth and how she hated that hat. As I sat up, the first drop fell right on top of my head. The aroma of the rain erupted. The smell of the rain, the soothing feeling, and the scent of the ocean, the shells, the fish, the sharp smell of the downpour, and the warmth of the droplets made the wait worthwhile. The rain lashed out on me soaking my clothes, stinging my skin and I was shivering. My vision was blurry and I waited. As I wiped away the raindrops intertwined with my tears, she appeared.

It was raining and there was my Ruth. She finally appeared, just as lovely as ever. I wanted to touch her but I couldn’t, I never could. The times we spent over the span of 50 years, she was here. Her spirit approached me and I longed for her. I wanted to be with her in the afterlife but I was still here and she was there and I felt even more alone than ever.

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