Lazy Dayz

He relaxed in his big red and yellow striped beach chair, tan hands resting behind his sunburned neck.

He exhaled.                                          

Because it had been twenty-four years since she’d last seen it, but the place looked exactly the same.

He wished she was stretched out on her similar beach chair, laughing at his corny jokes and sipping ice-cold lemonade. He looked away from the ocean. All those memories of them throwing each other into its frigid water sank to the ocean’s fathomless bottom. Only having floated up to taunt him.                           

They were best friends—Cecelia and he have vacationed on this island since elementary school, inhaling the salty sea air and letting the wind whistle as it blew through her light blond and his short, chocolate hair. As the waves crashed and then retreated away, Cecelia had pointed out how the sand was darker than his skin. Laughing, she rolled her eyes every time he rejected this opinion. Nevertheless, she would mock him further by putting her arm and hand to the sand and calling out that it was darker—  

“Whatever.”            

She had been declining his invitations, and she wasn’t interested in accepting a second phone call this time.

I’m not like I was before.

In other words, she had grown up—from a giggly girl splashing in the ocean waves to a responsible, briefcase-carrying, sunglass-wearing woman with a high salary somewhere in another state walking to and from work in high heels, a briefcase, suit and maybe even a tie.

Besides, she had concluded, I’ll never enjoy it again. Not like I’ll buy it. Because it’s just an island off somewhere. I’ll never own it like those celebrities with their own private beach vacation islands. Can’t do that, so can’t have any fun anymore, right?      

“Not even interested in accepting my marriage proposal.”

T-rex rolled off his chair, surveying the lonely place. Palm trees would provide sweet, cold coconut milk, and they refreshing shade from the scorching sun’s blaze. But no restrooms (save the ocean) would fill with the sound of a flushing toilet. The absence of hotels would only force him to have to bunk under a palm tree or on his own makeshift bed of a beach chair. Absence of civilization, though, only reminded him of her absence. So he studied his bag—stuffed with clothes, a towel, sunscreen, sunglasses, water bottles and…

Water bottles. He couldn’t quench his thirst with hot water.

Hurling towards his bright yellow beach bag, he complained as his feet slowed him by creating little craters in the sand. He dove right to the closed but unzipped duffle, snatching and cradling the precious liquid. Scowling at the heat, T-rex found some palm leaves lying face up a little ways off and stole them, putting two leaves together to hold the weightier bottles. After nestling them in the shade, T-rex ran a sweaty hand through his greasy, ruffled hair. What am I doing? How am I going to get a freezer, refrigerator and bed out of all this beach?

He wasn’t going to lug a hefty, bulging duffle bag that would cut into his shoulder and make him stop every fifteen steps for a little more than a mile. T-rex didn’t think it was worth it.  

Remembering the tools he brought with him, he searched slowly and determinedly under shirts and in side pockets. Seeing nothing but a pocket knife and a pair of scissors, T-rex inhaled a breath and stretched a tight smile, wishing this moment was a dream or a reality show episode. Then he ripped away from the bag, falling to his knees and screaming, pounding his big fists into the sand. “Why! Why did I forget my hatchet, flare gun and…” He stood up, the words Idiot and Stupid circling his mind. But his flare gun. What if…?

He had his pocket knife—but to do what? He’d be a hundred years old before he made even a dent in a palm tree with it! T-rex placed his hands on his hips. His cellphone was the last resort. He grabbed it from a pocket and dialed his good friend from college, but Cecelia’s number appeared. Hope rose inside him.

“Hey, hey!” She was all giddy and cheery.

“Hey…” He looked diagonally down at the iPhone, narrowing his eyes. “Is this Cecelia or someone else?”

“I got engaged!”

He dug a toe in the sand, resisting the urge to punch Cancel and throw the phone away. She may have moved on, but weren’t they so close before? Yeah, it was twenty-four years, but they’d gone to college together, planned their engagement dreams together and even started picking out rings…well, not together, but at least talked about them! What went wrong?

“Yeah!” She threw in his face.

As if he elucidated that he was going to congratulate her when he saw her next!

“Cecelia, I thought we were engaged. We…I told you we’d—”

“Well, I met a guy in my company, and we’re getting married a while from now. Wish you knew about our lives. Hope to see you at the wedding!” After gabbing about the marriage ceremony and guest list, a Click! stunned T-rex right down to his sunburnt toes.

How could she betray me like this? We’re a couple! How could one ‘good-bye’ mean forever? How could she have dumped me like this? What had I done wrong? Was it this island? Was it me?

He really had no idea. It was like she woke one morning and texted, “See ya!” Cold turkey. Just like that.

He called and opened his mouth once she picked up. But she chatted so much that as he hung up, tears threatened to spill, fists balled—        

Whiz!

T-rex threw himself down, the cellphone dropping, and put his arms over his head, shaking, breathing hard. He stared wide-eyed at the black and dark blue stick poised at an angle in the sand, casting a shadow underneath. More of these things were flying besides and behind him—he heard their twangs and boings split trunks of the palm trees. A lightning-fast squelch and then the sound of water bottles gushing and leaking made T-rex jerk his eyes up to the left. Risking everything, he scrambled up, exposing himself to deadly sharp tips of arrows, some aimed at him. Why didn’t they hit him?  

Still, he shielded himself with his hands. When he eventually exposed himself, he thought the tribesmen and women glaring at and studying him looked like movie characters. But T-rex then widened his eyes and dashed to his duffle bag. He ripped out his book of translation and went to a page before sputtering some words to them. T-rex jabbed the half-torn, stained sheet with an index finger. The tribesmen, one of them wearing huge gold earrings and extra thick makeup around cold eyes, stared at him and then moved forward. He jerked his huge hand, and they halted. After studying T-rex, he muttered something.

T-rex responded in the same language. The tribesman’s eyes widened, and he raised his arrow, spearing the book. It thudded to the sand, T-rex scrambling backwards, eyes popping, jaw dropped. Choosing to just speak to his best ability in their tongue, T-rex used hand gestures he practiced with his good friend but slowed down when the tribesman just stared at him. Then another arrow, right in its bow, aimed at T-rex. He braced for the impalement, but after blocking himself, he turned to witness the tribesman plucking at and kicking the yellow duffle bag. He then looked back at T-rex, who bobbed his head respectfully, and threatened the bag. When something (maybe an extra water bottle) rolled, the tribesman instantly aimed his arrow at it and darted his heavily mascara painted eyes everywhere. What felt like an hour or two later brought them to T-rex sprinting over. The rest of the men and women stamped and shouted at him. But the main one saved his life—shooting a hand out and yelling in a language T-rex recognized, the incessant noise halting instantly. T-rex relaxed himself and asked whether they had come from this island or somewhere else.

“We come from beyond this place.” One of the woman spoke, glaring at T-rex. But a man gestured for her to dim its glowing anger. She whipped her head away, muttering curses under her breath and then staring daggers at T-rex.

T-rex stepped back, explaining why he was on this island. Suddenly, a cry filled the air—a short, skinny tribal girl emitted ear-splitting screams as she flung her spear at his beach chair. Yelling followed this attack, and T-rex explicated that “this piece of plastic, metal and fabric” was just something he used as a bed.  

The leader cried above the din. “Bed?” He spread his arms. “Bed? For you?”

“Yes, yes!” T-rex discussed his desire to sleep on an actual bed, not just a hard chair-turned-cot. He threw his hands into the air, and everyone cheered, pumping their spears and arrows and bows into the air. The main tribesman slapped his hand on the young man’s bare back. T-rex resisted the urge to scream away the pain blasting through his body, and followed the leader as they all retreated to, he said, the huts of Goodness.

“Huts of Goodness?”   

T-rex spoke their language the whole time, even mentioning his fluency.   

The leader ignored this comment and proceeded, T-rex behind his clan and him, through half-beach, half-forest land. “We come from miles away. We are moving. We do not want swamp water to quench our thirst or hunger anymore!” Crunching of snapping branches atop dead, dry leaves muffled their talk a little. Palm trees lined both sides as they veered left. Then, they walked parallel a sand dune-peppered strip of beach.

“Yes, sir!”

But the leader just walked to the front of his tribe, halting them with a cry. T-rex responded the way he believed he would’ve if he were an inferior tribesmen speaking to his leader. The leader turned.     

The leader’s eyes shot down diagonally, like he was thinking. T-rex braced himself, hoping this man would see the truth of why T-rex was at this deserted location before an arrow silenced his beating heart. The leader jerked his eyes at him. “You come with us!”

Yanked by the ear to a place where the tribesmen told him he’d be cooked and eaten alive, T-rex’s eyes bulged. He swallowed, panicky fear forming sweat that leaked down his body. T-rex bit his lip. As he staggered and stumbled, T-rex soon halted in front of a glowing, scorching fire exhaling before him. The rest of the tribesmen sat around it on enormously thick moss and seaweed-decorated tree logs. Looking left and right, T-rex figured he was in one of the Huts of Goodness—palm trees enclosed them like a tent. T-rex looked into the crackling fire—his new eternal home. His bare shoulders sagged, and he accepted his victimhood of cannibalism. Then he jumped! Hideous growling and snarling stood every hair on his neck, arms and even legs as he tore from the fire and quivered, eyes huge—two raging pig-ugly dogs swanked machete-sharp teeth. Saliva drooled like a faucet drips water just before shut off completely. His heart hammering, T-rex whizzed around but was shoved towards the fire. Tripping over a large stone, T-rex shielded his face—  

T-rex was screaming, his fingertips on his scalding face.

“T! T-rex!”

The face froze. T-rex’s eyes flashed open and stared, joyous with relief, at a grey wall and then his roommate’s worried face blocking it. “Dude, you okay?”

T-rex whirled out of bed, shaking his head. “I had the craziest dream!” He snatched socks and under shirts after pulling out drawers. “Man, it was crazy. I was about to be eaten alive by some cannibalistic monsters!”

 “Some dream.”

He hopped while pulling a sock up. “It was weird, man! I was about to be thrown into a fire. There were these natives, and they—”

His good friend gave him a sideways look as he hunched over his big suitcase. “You just ate weird food for dinner last night or something.” He shrugged. “It’s not like it’s going to happen.”

And continued organizing it “by color,” he boasted, smirking.

Whatever! T-rex threw his over shirt on, smirking back. He jammed his feet into his white Converse sneakers. “See you in class.”

“Yeah!” They high-fived.

As he waved to some other friends laughing with each other at a park bench, T-rex couldn’t shake the feeling he had somehow been at that island. But he had, with Cecelia, his fiancé. They were getting married in a few months’ time! She said she’d never return to the island again after accepting a full-time job to help her parents pay off their house mortgage. She was risking an amazing opportunity by quitting college, but she said she’d return to school later when she could and would. And maybe the island, too.

As he sat there, eating his crouton salad, he thought if he called her about returning to the island as a married couple, would she talk? He looked at his watch. She was working from home now. Maybe late tonight—10 pm?

He decided to talk to her tomorrow and then swallowed his bite of toast, returning to his dorm to get some books for his next to last class of the day. However, he noticed his backpack had been torn to shreds—

“Wake up, wake up!”

T-rex scrambled up off his beach chair of a bed. Someone was staring at him, bushy eyebrows furrowed.

“Huh?” T-rex shielded his face. “What do you want with me?”

“Who are you?”

T-rex frowned at the white stained T-shirt and ketchup and mustard-sullied khaki shorts.

“Come on, man. You’ve been here—”

“I come here every summer with my girlfriend. I’m reminiscing.” He flopped back onto the beach chair. “Geez! Can’t a guy get some sun?”

He jerked up. Way beyond was a whole gala of beach life hotels and restaurants and everything tropical—like a slice of Hawaii. He wanted to go solo—for her. Too bad there wasn’t any Cecelia coming to dash down the sand, tan skinny arms spread out wide for him to receive as a hug and a smile more radiant than the sun to which he would respond in kind—

Fire scorched his face, his skin melting from the heat of the flames. Or least it was supposed to. He was screaming, like in his dorm. However, no noise emitted from his mouth! The crackling made the only noise amidst complete silence. He felt his face, even in the flames. It was fleshy. He even blinked. T-rex pulled his head, torso and waist out of the flames and stood, the tribesmen and women all gawking at his still-intact physique. He patted himself all over—no hair or skin was singed, burnt or shriveled into deadness. He was perfectly himself. God saved me!

T-rex asked how long he had been cooked alive. How long he had imagined his college days with his good friend and Cecelia and his plans to get married.  

“Why not?” The leader shot up from his seat and glowered madly at T-rex. “Explain!” He positioned a spear two inches from T-rex’s heart-thumping chest. “Something magical has happened. Why aren’t you dead?”

T-rex launched into his salvation story. Someone can deliver these tribesmen from their very wrongdoing, he said. “Only He converts you.”

They all demanded a sign that he was correct—this different man from somewhere. “If you are willing, you do this.” He folded his hands. “And pray this.” He prayed the Lord’s prayer. “That’s it.”

“We could?” One tribesman asked.

The other tribesmen looked at each other. They imitated his prayer stance and words. “What do we do now?”

“You must mean it.”

The leader did what T-rex suggested. Then he looked all around, like he expected something extravagant to happen. When nothing did, his face hardened and he straightened his weapon. Pointing it right at T-rex’s face, the leader shouted that he prove this salvation. T-rex shook his head, but the leader smacked him on the head with his bow. He staggered but straightened again, wincing and rubbing it.

The leader widened his eyes, staring at his shaking muscles and trembling hands. He said he was feeling restriction, but from…where? One of the other tribesmen cried, “I’m like T-rex!”

“Me too!”

The leader cried that they betrayed him. But the other two stood with T-rex. Soon, the whole tribe stood with him, beaming smiles and radiant joy expressing itself through their shining eyes and genuine side-hugs.  

“We are one.” One of them gave a new cry, and the whole tribe saturated the air with similar roars.

The leader backed away, eyes huge and pale mouth pinched with fury.   

“No!” He dashed away, screaming that T-rex had turned his tribe against him. He disappeared behind the thick palm tree forest. T-rex vowed to find him one day. They all agreed they’d find their leader. Converted.

T-rex laughed, shaking his head. Converted or not, he’ll—

But he also sighed. I would just like to say good-bye, at least. He was about to look away from the leader when he turned to his new family. Second to his good friend, those who loved and respected him now because they all accepted him.

He had a feeling they didn’t quite understand their new belief. That they didn’t have to bow to gods or goddesses or both to even feel recognition. That they could bow to Someone they couldn’t see or feel or touch. However, maybe that’d change one day. Maybe the leader would come back hopeful. Or better yet, freed indeed.

“[…] and that was all that mattered.”