Sea Change

Sam and I had been friends a long time and we met in a shoreline dive. We often agreed to meet at that place, where we went when our spirits needed buoying. New Year’s Eve was the ostensible occasion, but hell, as long as Sam was thirsty, so was I.

The smell of the salt air permeated the place, which added a gentle touch to our divey surroundings. I made up my mind that it was finally time to tell him, to tell someone, to tell anyone.

“My uncle told me he was married once,” I said, finishing my drink.

“Your uncle, the crazy one?”

“Yeah.”

“Who the hell would marry him?”

“Well, the way the story goes, it might make sense.”

I ordered two more.

“He lived over on the beach. I guess he was working in some capacity at a gas station.”

“The same one as you?”

“Yes.”

“Is this gonna be one of your long, boring, pointless stories?”

“Yes,” I said.

Friends can be such a pain.

Sam sighed as he glanced around the bar and looked neutral. There was nothing decent on T.V. to distract him.

“It’s on me. I’ve paid for an audience.”

He trilled his lips and raised his brow, not even feigning interest.

“So my uncle says that he was on the beach at night, ambling along. He was depressed and lonely…”

“O.k., at least spare some of the details,” Sam interrupted.

“Fine. So he’s walking down the beach, and he sees this person, this figure off in the distance. He said he couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, but he could see that he or she is in ratty clothes, and sitting with his or her legs splayed out, staring into the dark sea.”

Sam clinked the ice in his drink. It was drained all the way down. I’d only just started mine. He signalled for the bartender and looked around some more. I saw him checking out the older lady at the end of the bar, the bartender, and the girl in an insurance commercial on TV . The bartender brought him another drink. He smiled, she didn’t.

“Well, he slowly makes his way toward her and she, she was a she, he could tell by the time he got up to her, turns around and with a look of terror, actual, frozen-faced terror. My uncle goes to say something, but before he can speak, she takes off, whipping down the sand as fast as lightning. But she doesn’t stand up, she sort of crawls, with her legs trailing behind her. My uncle could tell it better, it’s his story.”

“What does this have to do with him being married?”

Sam was so impatient.

“The lady crawls off into the water, straight into the waves, and disappears into the foam. And I’m getting to the married part, so just hold still. Anyway, my uncle is standing there, staring into the ocean, and he can see her arms and legs flapping around. He looks after her, thinking she might need help, like she may be drowning, but soon she’s gone, he’s lost sight of her. And there, at his feet, is her jacket, so he picks it up. It’s soaked through and heavy and, because it was cold that night, colder than normal with the wind coming off the ocean, he thought she might need it. So he sits and waits for her. He sits there a few hours, until the sun is coloring the sky gray.” I stopped and sighed.

“And then he goes home.”

“Some story,” said Sam. The woman at the end of the bar fixed her eyes on her ashtray, smoke billowing from a just lit Camel. I sipped my drink, which hit my stomach wrong. I pushed it toward Sam.

“There you go, man,” I said, “now you’ve gotta listen to it all.” Sam didn’t mind, drinks were drinks.

“A couple of days later my uncle is sitting behind the counter at the gas station scratching lottery tickets, when this gorgeous woman walks up to him. She has brilliant blond hair and vibrant blue pools for eyes.”

“Vibrant blue pools,” Sam snickered.

“You know what I mean,” I said and continued, “She’s shivering and her arms and shoulders are covered in goose bumps. My uncle notices and becomes very turned on. He asks her if she is cold. She dosen't say anything, just stares at him and nods these slow, measured nods. He has the jacket behind the counter and he brings it out and asks her if it belongs to her. She becomes as still as a statue and all the goose bumps vanish as she stares at the jacket.”

“O.k.,” said Sam, “now we’re getting into crazy uncle territory.”

“I know, but I almost feel like this one kind of happened. Not the details and all, but the way he tells it, like he was actually in love with this woman.”

“I’ve been in love and you never believe any of my stories.”

“I don’t believe you that you’ve been in love.”

“Whatever,” said Sam with a shrug.

“She stares back at him and points to her jacket. So my uncle tells her that she’s got to do something for him first. Without hesitating she kisses him on the lips. Now my uncle feels like he’s got a real bargaining chip here with this jacket. He asks her what she thinks about him shutting the gas station down for a little bit so the two of them can go around the block to his apartment. And she agrees.”

“To that dirt-ridden hole? It’s just as bad as yours,” said Sam

I paused and gave him a look.

“Ok, wow, sorry… so he took her back to his place…”

“He says the girl was completely insatiable. She does everything, everything, every carnal act anyone has ever dreamt, until he passes out.”

“It’s good if it’s true and good if it’s not,” said Sam.

“When he wakes up a couple hours later she has torn his place apart. She is standing there, completely naked, with a crazed look on her face. His apartment is in worse shambles than it already had been. ‘Give me my coat give me my coat’, she keeps saying over and over. She says again that she will do absolutely anything he wants.”

“Seems like she already kept that end of the bargain,” said Sam.

I paused and looked at Sam with more than a little aggravation. He waved a sad hello to the woman on the other end of the bar, who sat and stared with cold fish eyes. Her fingers were stained yellow and her hair was unwashed. Sam smiled.

“So he asks her to marry him.”

Sam kept up his little barroom game. The woman sneered at him and gave him the finger.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, a loopy looker jumped your uncle’s bones and asked for her jacket.”

“He asked her to marry him, that’s what this story is all about.”

“Right…that’s why I’d been listening.”

“He said he didn’t care if she didn’t love him, of course they hardly knew each other, and she could run off with another guy right afterwards. Please just ‘marry me right now and I’ll leave you alone’. Just to say he was married once upon a time. So he could have something… a tangible memory of this heavenly creature.”

“And?”

“She did.”

“Sure…” said Sam, sarcasm dripping from his tongue.

“No, she actually did. He has the marriage license and everything.”

“Yeah, what was her name?”

“She signed the papers S. Kellie. He said she agreed to marry him if it meant she could get the jacket back.”

“I woulda just asked her to clean the place. That is, of course, on whatever fantasy island your little tale takes place.”

I bristled a bit at Sam’s lack of accommodation for the story, but continued.

“To celebrate they get some booze and make their way down to the beach. He starts drinking and she asks for the coat. He had kept it in the store, a couple of blocks from the shore, and he asks her to wait for him. When he gets back, he sees her sitting there, staring off into the sea water and her top is off.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” said Sam as he shot his best come hither look across the room.

“He comes down onto the shore and she’s… her gorgeous figure is absolutely pulsing in rhythm with the sea. She reaches out her arms and her breasts press against him as she pulls him forward and kisses him on the lips. While he’s kissing her he feels warmth. Not normal body heat…her lips are soft and moist… but something intense, organic, like a chemical fire emanating from just behind her teeth; something so hot he is almost burned. He backs off. She looks for a split second, then grabs her coat and runs as fast as he’s seen anyone run from him, straight into the rising tide. He thinks it’s some kind of game, so he goes running after her, laughing… but soon she’s into the deep stuff, swimming farther and farther out, with Olympic speed, and he struggles to keep up, to catch his breath, to catch a glimpse. She swims straight for the horizon and then she sinks and he never sees her again.”

“She drowned?”

“They never found a body.”

“Probably got sucked out by a rip tide.”

“So, he feels guilty and terrible and sad after that. The cops question him, but never charge him with anything, and it seems she was without any family.”

“She’d rather drown than marry your uncle.”

“I guess so.” I frowned and felt dizzy. The day was beginning to settle down. The rusty sky peeked through one of the neon-lit windows. Sam sighed.

“Well,” he said, “time to burn the midnight oil.” He checked his watch and downed the rest of the drink I’d bought him. He worked nights as an auditor for a one star hotel and he always went in at least halfway in the bag because that’s how he was when he interviewed for the position. Consistency was Sam strong suit. I shook his hand and waved him off.

“‘Night, Sam”

“Yeah, see ya.”

The bartender gave me a pleasant enough fake smile.

“Ready for another, ace?”

“I’ll take a beer, and get whatever she wants. The lady on the end.”

I felt bad for Sam’s unwelcome leers in her direction, so I thought I’d do her a favor. The bartender set her up and I raised my beer. She smiled, grabbed the drink, and came over my way. She was wearing an old brown sweater and as she approached, intricate lines in her face became more apparent.

“Well, thank you, dear.”

She smiled at me with crooked yellow teeth.

“No problem. I don’t want you to think… I’m not like my friend. I know he was a bother. I’m just trying to make up for him.”

“Well, this’ll do just fine.” She tapped her glass and her crow’s feet sagged.

“Now I should do something nice for you.”

“No, no,” I raised my glass again, ” To Amends.”

“Amen to amends,” she smiled, “but don’t think I’m gonna go home with ya.” She laughed a loud, drunken belly laugh.

“Not at all. I’m not trying to be vulgar.”

“That was a joke, sweetheart,” she said and clicked her teeth.

“O.K.,” I looked up to the T.V. and took a small sip.

“Can I see your hand,” she asked. I lifted my hand and turned it around and waved at her.

“No, no,” she said, “let me hold it.”

“I thought you weren’t trying to get fresh,” I said, half joking.

“I read palms.”

“Really? I read racing forms.”

We both laughed. She motioned again for my hand, so I gave it to her. She ran her fingers up and down my outstretched palm, feeling the grooves and rubbing my fingertips. After a few seconds, she laid my hand flat on the bar and stared deeply into my eyes.

“Who is she,” she asked.

“Who’s who?”

“I can see her. Sad blue eyes. She hurt you.”

“O.k., lady, I think we’ve had enough fun for now,” I took my hand off the bar. She looked me over with shiny-eyed scrutiny and spoke in a slow, calm voice: “It’s o.k. She still loves you.”

I looked at her hard, my eyes daggers.

“She doesn’t know what to say to you or how it is even said. There is music, a sad voice singing alone. She wants you to be happy and to know love again. Her heart is cold.”

I began to sweat and my body tensed. I tightened my grip on the bottle in front of me.

“You are a stranger,” I said with a grimace, “what gives you the right to…I was trying to be nice, getting you a drink and all, but I think you should go back to your seat.” I downed my beer.

“She is down by the water and she thinks of you, always.”

I laid money down, way too much, but I couldn’t wait for change.

“Don’t come near me,” I said.

 As I and stared into her wizened face, my vision blurred and shifted. A quiet disequilibrium – vertigo? – made the creases in her face blur and the room go fuzzy. I white knuckled the bar to try and right my orbit. As the sinewy feeling roped its way down my guts, I became aware of a faint chanting. A simple cadence, drilled into our DNA, a countdown. I was fully steady and pouring sweat as the denizens did their best to spin the march of time with tones of good cheer and strong spirits. “….eight…seven….six…” went the crowd as I managed my way into the night., “don’t come near me again.”

“Her heart is cold, but she still burns for you.”

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

I put on my jacket and quickly made my way out of the bar. The cracked and froggy voices, like me, limped out into the winter chill. The sky was bruised black and purple as it met a rolling, steady sea. Cold. I needed more cover. A gust of wind from the sea made me shiver. I walked to the beach, away from that place, my head down. I kept walking until I was nearly under the waves. Tears, the ancestral remnant of the ocean in us all, mixed from my face into the sea as I sobbed. Would that some ugly and terrifying thing come swallow me, would these waves drown. Would the energy spread through the world curled in these waves push me, pull me, move me. All empty, spent and kneeling, I wished. I wished for something new.