A Beach from Ten Hundred Thousand Feet

           We met on the beach on one of those clear, breezy nights that I had come to love.  I sat staring out to the sea, shivering when the light wind rustled my sheer cotton skirt and blouse.  I was almost in oblivion; I did not notice him approaching until he was only a few feet away.  He stopped and said, "Hello."  I looked at him, replied, "good evening," and waited for him to continue his moonlit walk down the rocky shore.  I turned back to the water, wanting to return to my silent reverie.  He was not willing to comply, making small talk about the niceness of the evening.  I wanted to say that it would be even better if he left, but I did not.  I could tell he had had too much to drink.  Yet, he appeared rather harmless.  I nodded in response to his observation.  He sat down next to me; I gave up hope of getting my solitude back.

            I cannot say why I chose to sit with her.  When I saw her way off down the shore, I instantly felt drawn to her.  Please realize that I do not believe in destiny or things like that, I guess the beer was having an effect on me.  I sat down, not knowing what to say, but feeling uncomfortable in the silence.  She just sat there looking at the water.  After a few minutes, I could not stand the silence anymore.  I extended my hand for her to shake and said, "My names' Paul."  She looked at me somewhat oddly, touched my hand in a weak shake and said "hi".  She was obviously not too easy to approach.

            We sat there in silence for a while longer.  I was simply not in a friendly mood.  Not towards someone like him anyway.  He was tall, not thin but not overweight, with short dark hair and a clean-shaven face.  I could not tell much more about his face; it was hidden in a shadow.  I would say he had just finished college the spring before, which would make him two years younger than me.  I suppose some girls would have said he was good looking.  To me, he looked just like every other guy his age and in his social class.  He seemed rather nervous.  Why was he sitting there?  I could not have attracted him; I obviously was not his type.  Why didn't he just get up and walk away?  I didn't care.  When he introduced himself, I didn't really catch his name.  Perhaps I was not really listening.  I just wanted to be left alone.  What could I do?  I remember what it was like back in college, which I thought would be the perfect place for me, where everyone was intelligent and philosophical, and well everything that I had always been.  I soon learned that no one had matured much in that one summer after high school graduation.  I was still the outsider.  I tried teaching my ideas to my peers.  I tried to show them that they should accept each other that we are all equal, that there is a beauty in the world and that we could all enjoy that beauty a little more if we did not concentrate so hard on looking down at each other... I still think they agreed with me, knew deep down I was right.  Nevertheless, I cannot help pitying them of this; they just were not ready to hear what I was saying.  They were still caught up in the backgrounds of materialism, elitism and self-obsession.  The echoes of the insults hurled at me, like "f****n' weirdo," still resound in my ears.  However, it is not so bad being the "odd man out".  It is advantageous at times.  Times like these.  "Can you feel the sea?"  I asked him.

            Feel the sea?  What in the hell was she talking about?  We were sitting at least fifteen feet from the edge of the water, so I was not getting wet.  "Excuse me?"  She turned to look at me.  Her eyes, they were… I don't know how to say it.  They seemed distant or something.  "If you listen hard enough, you can feel the sea."  She turned back to the water again.  I looked out there, too.  It was quiet, except for the sound of the waves hitting the sand.  My mind kept wandering.  I do not even know what about.  I tried to concentrate on listening because I wanted to know what she meant.  Again, maybe it was the beer.  It was difficult, but after a few minutes, I stopped thinking about everything except hearing the waves.  They became louder and louder.  I do not know how much time passed.  It seemed like a long time.  But it only could have been a few minutes.  I completely lost track of time for the first time in my life.  Suddenly, I felt myself swaying with the waves.  I was not actually moving, I don't think.  But I did feel it.  How can I say this?  It sounds a bit corny, but I felt like I was the sea.  When the waves came in, I leaned back.  When they went out, I leaned forward.  It was amazing.  I felt the ocean!  I looked at her.  Her eyes were closed and she was smiling.  I suddenly realized that she was pretty.  Of course, it was dark, so it was hard to tell.  It looked like she had long, wavy, red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.  It was too dark to see her face clearly, it looked long and thin with strong features that stood out.  She was sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms around her legs.  She looked tall and was definitely thin.  She was not drop dead gorgeous or even pretty like the cheerleaders I had known in high school or the sorority girls from college.  She was different.  Unique.  Now there is a word.  Anyway, the swaying stopped suddenly.  The waves were not so loud anymore.  She stopped smiling, opened her eyes and looked at me.

            When he said, "I felt it," my heart leapt.  He could not be serious, could he?  Or had I been mistaken?  Was he more than the conforming jerk he appeared to be?  It was difficult for me to believe, so I asked him to describe it to me.  He told me he had swayed.  He was not very articulate.  Perhaps that was not his fault.  Maybe he was a "victim of society" and true articulation was not one of his qualities.

            She just sat there, staring at me.  It was making me feel uncomfortable.  Maybe I didn't feel it.  Maybe she was just playing some sort of joke on me or she was messed up in the head or even on drugs.  I just sat there, scared to move, thinking all these terrible thoughts.  She was making me feel stupid.  I am not stupid.  Sure, I am not the smartest guy in the world, but I get by just fine, thank you very much.  It is not that important anyway.  What is important is that people like me.  And they do.  They have, ever since I proved myself in fourth grade.  My grandmother, who I never met, had sent me this really ugly sweater.  It was s**t brown, tight fitting and nerdy.  Mom made me wear it to school one day, out of respect for "granny".  I felt everyone I knew, even my friends staring at me all that day.  I was sure they were laughing at me behind my back.  Now it seems somewhat silly.  I mean, who cares if Paul Harris wore a dumb sweater once in fourth grade.  And it was only once.  I took care of the whole thing.  At lunch, I sat alone.  I was sure it was because my friends were ignoring me due to that damned sweater.  I guess in reality, I ignored them.  I just wanted to be alone and drown my sorrows in my chocolate milk.  I was almost to the point of crying when the class nerd came over to ask if he could sit with me.  I cannot remember his name now, but I can still picture him.  His whole wardrobe was s**t brown.  He wore thick glasses that he was always pushing up.  Everyone avoided him.  It was the last straw, him asking me that question.  I glared at him and said, "No."  He sat down anyway.  I got mad and screamed at him.  I called him every name in the book at the top of my lungs, or at least every name I could think of as a fourth grader.  The whole lunchroom got quiet.  The kid started crying which caused the lunch lady to come over and she dragged me off to the principal's office.  Principal Rose gave me a week of detention for "fighting".  On the way home, I tore the sweater so my mom would think it was a real fight, not just an argument.  Anyway, I received instant popularity for reaming out the kid and making him bawl.  I never had to feel stared at like that again.  That was, until now.

            Maybe I could teach him.  Enlighten him.  Maybe underneath that snob exterior was someone like me.  All I had to do was bring him out.  Maybe.  First I wanted to make sure he was not just bullshitting me.  I asked him what he meant by swaying and he said, "I didn't move but I was moving."  He ebbed with the waves; he flowed with the waves.  He had been one with the ocean.  I was amazed.  I thought I would never meet another person who could do that.  My breathing quickened.  I had to know more about him, what else he could do.

            She kissed me.  She pressed her lips to mine and she kissed me.  I do not even remember her leaning towards me.  One second she was just staring at me, the next, she was kissing me.  And I kissed her back.

            His lips were moist and soft, yet strong.  I felt them trembling.  We sat there, not moving, our lips pressed together as if we were Siamese twins joined at the mouth.  I felt his warm breath from his nose against my face.  Something in me was stirring.  I had to go on.

            Suddenly she pulled away.  My head was spinning.  She lay back on the sand and said, "Now try the sky."  It took me a minute to understand what she had meant.  I was still trying to figure out why she had kissed me.  All I could think was that I still did not know her name.  The sky.  I lay back too, and looked at the stars.  It was clear, and they were pretty to see.  But the ocean moves, the waves go in and out and I had moved with it.  The sky does not move like the ocean.  I closed my eyes.  I tried again to concentrate.  All I cold think of was that kiss.  I tried harder.  She was looking at me now I could feel it.  I got nervous.  What if she was messed up?  It was not working.  I did not feel anything with the sky.  I opened my eyes.  She had been staring at me.  "Well?" she asked, expecting some kind of miracle, I think.  "Nothing," I said.

            I screamed to myself, to myself, of course.  I had been wrong.  And I had kissed him.  I had to get out of this somehow.  But how?  He sat back up.  I watched him for a few minutes, sizing him up.  He looked genuinely upset that he could not do it.  I closed my eyes, concentrated on the sky and within a few minutes, was there, drifting among the stars, looking down at the turning earth, and turning with it.  It helped to clear my head, He had felt the sea; There was hope for him yet.  I could teach him to go further, but he probably would not succeed.  He was too stuck in the world of money and conformity.  However, I could be wrong.  I mulled it over for a few minutes, up among the stars.  Suddenly, I was pulled back into my body.  He was kissing me.  Taking advantage of me.  It was not the innocent kiss of before, it was hard, wet, and sloppy, and it proved that he was just like all the others.  My mind raced furiously.  How could I get away from this?  I hear a wave crash on the shore.  I reached up and pushed him slightly away.  He reluctantly ended the kiss.  I told him to try the sea again.  If he got enough into it, I could quietly slip away.

            It was a stupid move for me to kiss her again.  But she was just there.  And it had been so nice.  I should have thought.  But I didn't.  I closed my eyes again.  I listened to the water, and it got loud again.  And louder, until it thundered.  More quickly this time.  I swayed.  Faster and faster.  It was even more amazing than before.  I could taste the salt water.  Feel the wetness.  My heart beat was in time somehow with the tide.  It was… just amazing.  I had never felt so alive before in my entire life.  There was the ocean, there was me, and there was her.  There was nothing else.  The rest of the world disappeared.  I lost track of time again.  I just let it all go and let it happen.  It got more and more intense, until I felt like I would burst.

            I watched him very closely.  I had to make up my mind once and for all.  Would I stay and give him a chance?  Or would I not waste my time?  My gut feeling was to leave.  So I watched to see when he would not notice my getting up and walking away.  He was moving, very slightly, back and forth.  Swaying.  He seemed at peace.  It was probably the only time in his life that he would truly feel peace.  At least I gave him that.  I could give him more.   Oh, how I hate indecision and procrastination.

            I had to tell her.  Had to tell someone how charged I felt.  I opened my eyes.  I had been smiling, I realized just then, because I stopped when I saw that she had disappeared with the rest of the world.  I stood up, looked all around.  She was gone.  I followed her footprints but once I got off the beach, there was no way of telling where she had gone.  I gave up and went home.  That night I lay awake thinking.  About the ocean.  About the kiss.  And how good they had both felt.  I have never forgotten that evening.  Sometimes, I go outside and try to feel the sky.  Just to see the beauty that is the world from ten hundred thousand feet.  I have not done it yet.  But someday I will… someday.