Threes
The water’s lapping at my feet, soggy in my shoes. I take my loafers off and roll up my pants. The water’s cool at my ankles, the sand soft and sucking on my toes.
“Look at all the fish!” Pem shouts. “Look at all the birds! Man, I love this place!”
I smile and put my right hand on my chest. It catches my attention, and I feel what’s there. Swelling, aching, longing.
The wind blows. My hair gets caught in it and comes across my eyes. I miss her.
I see it in front of me, out on the water, like I’m watching a tv show.
She’s smiling at me, looking beautiful, face framed with dark curls.
I can feel the smile I give back to her, but on the beach my mouth’s twisting around and my eyes are burning.
She touches my hand, rubs my ring. I see the ring. It’s three golds: yellow, white, and rose.
“So that’s what it looks like,” I say.
“What what looks like?” Pem asks. She leaps after a fish, maw happy and open, paw batting at it.
I remember our fight from before. I don’t want to upset Pem again. “The ocean,” I say.
“I know!” Pem says. “Isn’t it great?”
The tears are hot on my skin but cool quickly in the sea air. I know Pem isn’t looking, which is good. I stare out at the images, repeating over like animation. “Yeah. It’s great.”
My ring finger itches and points directly to my left, straight out from the side of my body. I move only my head and look down the length of my arm, past my twitching finger.
There’s a little shack. A fishing shack, maybe.
I stomp through wet sand, waves splashing against me and go to the shack.
Pem doesn’t notice my passing.
There’s something familiar here, I think.
My left hand reaches for the door.
“William!” It’s Rogger.
I turn and look at her, reflexively ask, “Yeah?”
She’s standing there on a dune, rifle in hand, brim and balance low. “Crabs!”
I look back to the shack and see nothing around.
I turn back to Rogger. “Where?”
Rogger points her rifle behind me.
I look and see a crab the size of me, its pincers snapping.
“Oh!” I stumble back and fall down.
The crab approaches, stalked eyes swirling a bit, claws snapping down at me.
Rogger drops it from her perch, sending salty liquid all over me.
“Ah!” I cry out.
I blink at the juices and rub my eyes, sand getting in them, burning and stinging.
“Ah, Rogger! I can’t see!”
Next time: “It’s Gonna Burn!”
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