An Ode to Tybee Island

It is so early that no one else is around except a few fishermen high up on the faraway dock. They wouldn’t hear us unless we both screamed at the same time. Their floppy hats swaying in the breeze and their lines quiet and still.

Mom’s waving her hands back and forth in the water. She's watching how the foam from the gentle waves bubbles over skin upon contact.

“Now the pink is fading.”

I say as the sun breaks over the top the line of where the ocean ends and the sky begins. My swimsuit is a one piece pink which is the same color as the sky has often been here.

Wide, wide and endless is the ocean. Contrasting everything I’ve felt over the last two weeks, that space. The water brings a regulation to my heart which I hadn’t thought would be possible. That’s what I think every time she tells me we are coming here. That it won’t help me this time, but it is the one thing that can.

“No, it’s still there.”

She takes a few steps forward and points out to a thin line right on the cusp behind the few clouds. There it is, the last of the early morning pink sky.

To the right, closer on to the dock, a large fish jumps, then another. We can hear the slap of their bodies on the top of the water.

“Dee, those are dolphins, look, look.”

Mom points and I can see their fins above the water. We don’t have dolphins where I live. And as a child I never even saw the ocean. She raised me in Ohio. The land of the flat, ugly, and unimaginative landscapes.

Each and every time I see dolphins, it feels like witnessing a creature from a children’s fairy tale book. I can empathize with sailors from history who believed in mermaids.

The dolphins are moving further out. I’ve seen them up close before, but it is almost more fun when they are reduced to shapes.

Wading out to our waist and then shoulders, with our eyes half closed we let the water float us up then down. That's the best part. When you are far enough out your feet still touch but the waves pick you up. In that moment you are weightless, all the muscle aches and proverbial bricks lift and are absorbed by the water. Mom isn’t thinking about grading papers, or chaperoning prom right now. I’m not thinking about rejection letters or Conrad or my crummy job. All there is is ocean.

Out of the water, we don’t get cold because even at eight the sun is there to gently warm us before any chill can catch.

There is the contrast in colors here. I am surrounded usually by three colors; gray, green and blue. But here the blue sky and the green ocean are opposed by a rainbow of other shades. The sand, dunes, flowers and grasses which are my favorite thing aside from the ocean.

The blanket has a little sand on it but we don’t brush it off. The first of the vacationing families make their way down the wooden planks. I hear a little girl who can’t be more than six or seven read the sign about the sand dune snakes.

“I want to see a snake!”

She demands. I’ve never seen one, not that I’ve spent time staring down into the sand like a little kid might. Little girls always get my mom’s attention. She likes to watch them and wave to them. She will often reminisce about the self declared best time of her life which was when I was that small. Anywhere else but Tybee that makes me sad, but here I smile with her. Yes, I'm sure I was a pure joy then.

“We don’t have to leave until midday tomorrow. We can still do this tomorrow morning.”

Mom says as she turns over and closes her eyes. I hadn’t even been thinking about leaving. I never do.

“Remember what I said yesterday? About never dating again? Well, I’ve changed my mind. I need to go home and find someone right away. Someone worse than Conrad. Someone who will smash me up in six months so we can book another trip here.”

“It doesn’t have to be a bad time for us to come here.”

Mom is laughing but underneath I know that she worries. We are both thinking about tomorrow, when I'll fly back and land and drive to my lonely apartment. It is cold there, both in and outside. The days will be shorter. In a month’s time the sun won’t rise until I’ve been at work for an hour and the sun will set an hour before work ends.

At dinner the night before we talked about me taking some kind of class. I agree with her it might help, but I’ve never been terribly good at anything. Not at crafts, or dance, or music. Definitely not sports.

I watch an empty chip bag blow along the shore. When I go home, I can join some kind of club. One that picks up trash or cleans up parks. You don’t need any skills for that.

I wish I was a little girl still. I wish I didn’t have to be good at anything. I wish my mother’s face would light up when I asked little questions.

The thought is stupid and it makes me want to cry. I get up and head to the bathroom instead.

When walking back, Mom is sitting up at the towel staring at the dolphins which are out past the dock now. A fisherman is standing next to her finishing up a conversation. She puts her hand over her mouth as he walks away.

That peaceful Tybee look is gone as she watches the dolphins now which are past the dock.

“What was he saying to you? Asking you out?”

I joke and give her arm a nudge. It’s early, but it’s Tybee. There are no rules here. I open my bag of popcorn and crack open a ginger ale.

“You see the shapes out there?”

Mom asks.

“Yeah, dolphins are so cute. I kind of like when they are far out like that.”

“Those aren’t dolphins. Those are sharks. That fisherman was telling me that sharks are very active at dawn and they see them here and close to shore every morning. Dawn and dusk.”

“But that’s when we like to bounce up and down in the waves.”

“We also like that no one else likes to be in the water then.”

“It’s calm.”

“The sharks think so too.”

“Well, I’ll take my chances.”

“All this time I thought it was so peaceful. And there are literally schools of sharks feet from us.”

“Life.”

She is laughing at me. As she should be. It is so us. To get lost in a small town and go in circles until we are dizzy. To show up at an airport a day before a flight departs because of a mistake on our post it note calendar. To swim in the ocean with sharks completely unaware.

On the planks headed back to the parking lot, I look over the edge to see if there are any dune snakes nesting about. Just a few loose crabs and large bugs.

“I want to see a snake.”

I say to her in a baby voice.

“I think the sharks are enough for now.”

She takes my hand and we don’t let go the whole way back. All is still as a gentle wave. Next time I come, there. will be nothing to fix. I am determined that I will give and not take from this place. I will come with an already calm soul.