The Palms

This is the first short story I've written in eight years. It's not the best. Not even good. But, it's a start.

                         The Palms

 

Doug’s sandaled feet shuffled to a stop. He sat down on a curb to gather his thoughts. The morning sun warmed his back. His mouth was dry. His pockets empty. The weight of his skull fell into his open hands. After a moment he looked up. A pretty blonde lady was walking her dog. She hurried past him.

Doug was suddenly overcome by a desire to go to the beach. Bracing himself with his hands on his knees, he rose up. Just walk, he thought to himself. He trudged past rows of pastel colored houses, each dwelling shrouded in thick tropical vegetation.

Doug staggered towards the intercostal bridge that separated the mainland from the beach. Palm trees swayed in the breeze. The bridge loomed in the distance. His insides churned.

His tired eyes came upon a bench shaded by a gnarled cypress tree. On shaky legs, he walked over to it and sat down. Doug closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and inhaled deeply. He doubled over and vomited. “That was good,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

An old man with a scraggly gray beard lay resting on a bench a few feet from where Doug sat. The man’s pot belly rose and fell with each peaceful breathe he took. One arm cradled the back of his head, the other hung loosely at his side, swaying back and forth in the grass.

Doug’s attention turned towards the bridge. For the moment, the task of crossing seemed monumental. Even under the shade, Doug could feel the heat of the sun intensifying. “Get up,” he said to himself. As he inched towards the bridge, Doug replayed the events of the previous night in his mind.

After buying beer at around midnight, Doug navigated his way through a maze of gravel back alleys, arriving at the condemned Sea Breeze hotel. He eyed the fading hotel sign. Doug popped open a beer, clenched his eyes, and chugged. His brain tingled. Picking the lock on an access door, he grabbed the rest of his beers, and climbed twelve flights of stairs to the roof.

Once on the roof, Doug looked down upon his city. To the west, a kaleidoscope of bright lights. The streets alive with a mass of tan bodies. A playground of dive bars and island themed restaurants made up the main strip. Doug could hear the roar of laughter lubricated by pitchers of beer. The singing of guitars and clashing of drums echoed out of The Rum Shack. To the east, a black abyss, then row after row of high rise condos, lit sporadically like huge yellow and black checkerboards.

Doug could taste the salt in the summer night air. He opened another beer, sipping slowly, a smile spreading across his face. As the second beer took effect, his thoughts drifted momentarily to the fading memory of a woman. A creaking noise spun him around. Before he could react, a beam of light was upon him, blinding him. He recoiled from the light.

“What the hell man?” he said.  

“What are you doing up here?” a gruff voice asked.

“I should ask you the same thing. How about lowering that searchlight of yours?”

The man eased the light down. Before Doug stood a short, broad man, his skin the color of red clay. His nose resembled a potato. Doug thought the man was a disgruntled cop. Looking closer, he saw he was just a security guard.

“What are you doing up here,” the security guard said, his face a stone block.

“All business aren’t we?” Doug said.

“What! What are you saying!” the guard demanded.

“Relax man. I’m just here drinking a few beers enjoying…hiccup…enjoying the view.”

The security guard’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you know it’s illegal to drink in public? Don’t you know your trespassing?”

Doug took a sip of his beer. “Yes”

He took another sip. “And yes.”

“What’s wrong with you man? Are you crazy?”

“Depends what your definition of crazy is.”

The guard fidgeted in place, the blood in his face looking as if it would gush out of the top of his head at any moment.

“Look mister. Someone called and said they saw a man sneaking into this hotel. Now I found that man. That man is you. Now you go or I call the cops.”

“How much do they pay you?”

“What!” the guard spat.

Doug remained calm.

“I said, how much do they pay you? To do what you do. To put on that spiffy little uniform and flash that light into people’s faces. To risk your life.”

“That’s not your business.”

“I bet it’s not enough. Is it?”

The guards face softened a little. His stern demeanor fizzling.

“Look sir. Please don’t make any trouble for me. I’m just trying to do my job.”

“I understand that,” Doug said. “You probably spend every night patrolling these dark alleys alone. Right? ”

The guard nodded.

Doug continued, “No one appreciates how hard and potentially dangerous your job is.”

The guard looked at Doug warily.

“Look man. The guy that owns this hotel, he’s my father. He’s a greedy son of a b***h. You can call the cops and report me. Nothing is going to happen.”

Doug took a swig of his beer. He smacked his lips.

“Here’s what I’m thinking. There’s two beers left. One for you. One for me. Let’s sit back and relax. When we’ve finished with the beers, I’ll follow you downstairs. Nobody gets in trouble.”

The guard considered Doug’s offer.

“What’s your name?”

“Jose,” he said.

Doug threw him a beer.

Jose caught it. He sighed. “Okay…Okay,” he said, shaking his head.

Doug and Jose sat down. They watched a boat chug along the intercostal.

The two men sat in silence as they drank. Jose studied Doug’s face, trying to get a read on just what kind of man he was. What would possess someone to drink cheap, nasty beer, all alone, on the roof of his father’s abandoned hotel, in the middle of the night?

Doug finished the last of his beer and stretched out onto his back, the world spinning around him.

The strong beer went straight to Jose’s head.  “Mister…,” he said.

“Call me Doug.”

“Mister Doug, why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

“This,” Jose said, gesturing with his arms as if trying to trap the entire city within them.

Doug shrugged his shoulders.

“Jose, if I knew why I did it, I don’t think I would do it.”

“Oh,” Jose said, shuffling a little.

There was silence. Doug supposed it was his turn to ask a question.

“What about you Jose, why do you work for the security company?”

Jose titled his beer can, draining it. Then he spoke.

“Well Mister Doug, I have a wife. I love her. I do not ask why. I do.”

“I’m sorry,” Doug said.

“Sorry? Sorry for what,” Jose said.

“For having no choice.”

For a moment, Jose said nothing. His shifted his weight as if trying to gain the right balance for what he was about to say. He cleared his throat.

“Mister Doug, I don’t know you very long. Just a half hour. Maybe.”

“This is true,” Doug said.

Jose went on, “You are a very wise man. Everyone else is the fool. No?”

Doug smirked.

“You know what I see,” said Jose.

“Enlighten me. Please.” Doug, now amused.

“I see a very lonely man.”

Doug’s smirk faded. His spinning world screeching to a halt.

“Is that so,” he said.

“Mister Doug, you were wrong about one thing.”

“ Yeah? What’s that?”

“Every night I patrol these alleys, I am by myself, but I am not alone.”

“Lucky you,” Doug said.

“I don’t think there’s any place you can go to where you won’t feel alone Mister Doug.”

“Yeah, well I feel it’s about time I get out of here,” Doug said standing up.

“Me too Mister Doug. Me too.”

Doug didn’t look back. He didn’t say bye. He walked down the flight of stairs and into the night.

A car flashed by. The sound of young girls laughing and singing along to the radio snapped Doug out of his daydream. He was nearing the end of the bridge.

A very lonely man. A very lonely man. The words rang in Doug’s head like demonic church bells. The hot sun bore down on him. His breath became labored, gripped by despair. An outcast in a world of six billion people. He looked back, wondering if a fall from the top of the bridge would end his sorry life. He shook the idea from his head.

Something out of the corner of his eye caught Doug’s attention. He turned to look. The image of a sun kissed girl on a beach cruiser floated towards him. As she drew near, he marveled at her grace. He saw freedom in her piercing blue eyes.

The girl was aware of Doug’s lingering gaze. She smiled gently at him and waved. The world around Doug grew luminous, like dust wiped from a long forgotten window. He froze. She sailed past him and out of sight. His mind drew a blank. The sound of the ocean expanding and retracting filled the air. Seagulls circled overhead.  A wave of tranquility washed over him. He marched on towards the beach.

 

Author's Note

Brutally honest opinions welcomed.

Reviews

[roarke]

Sea Breeze Hotel... I know of one in Hermosa Beach CA. the main strip sounds the same as well, although HB isn't considered a "city".
Great set up to the conversation. Unexpected life lessons.
A portrait of being burnt out.

This seems like part of a much larger story. There's gotta be a back story and his attitude and outlook uplift by the passing of babes suggests some kind of motivation no matter how cursory.

Some of my stuff has laid around for a couple decades, they're a good place to start, and take off from. Aging helps, like wine.... and then you try a new vineyard.
Keep up the writing.

[rae52]

interesting

[D.L. Wilson]

Nice little story. Interesting situation and conversation between Doug and Jose. Good job.