Guy--Part Seventeen

Splog # 73

Seventeen

 

   And now Guy was standing on the seashore with the waves rolling in and the sea spreading before him in an endless expanse. The sky was so bright it appeared almost white, even though there was no sun to be seen. The water was calm and looked cool and inviting. Guy sat on the sand and stripped off his sneakers and his socks and, before going for a wade, he piled warm sand upon his feet and tamped it down with his palms and then poured on more sand. After pressing it down firmly, he sat and waited for a couple of moments with his feet caked in the hot, gritty sand. Then he started wriggling his toes and rocking his feet back and forth to enjoy the sensation of releasing them from their sandy prison. Then he got up and walked to the water. He walked right up to where a wave was receding, and then backed off quickly as a new one came in. After playing tag with the waves for a few minutes, he saw one coming in that was bigger than the others had been. He waited until it was just in front of him, then he jumped as high as he could and came down in the middle of it with a satisfactorily chaotic splash. Cool drops of water hit his body at various spots and for a moment his feet felt rather chilly. But they quickly acclimated to the temperature of the water. Now he started walking back and forth in the shallows, feeling the drag on his legs as he passed through the cool ever-moving element. Each wave seemed to reach an area a little higher on his body and, when his shorts started getting wet, he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it back to where his footwear was resting on the beach. Now he could frolic without any reservations. He dove under the water and did somersaults and hand-stands. He dog-paddled and floated on his back to see how long he could remain without touching the sandy bottom. He took sea water in his mouth and jetted it up over his head. He smacked his hands down on the surface to see how high he could send water leaping in a spray. He spun around in a circle with his hands in the air and then he put them down, singly or together, and dragged them through the water. He dove to the bottom and grasped what he could and brought it up with him to examine what the sea floor consisted of. Muddy sand, smooth rocks and pebbles, shells, broken or whole. Finally, he started to get a little tired and just stood and looked out over the vast undulating plain stretching before him and reflecting the strange white sky.

   As he stood there, feeling the air dry the dampness on his head and shoulders, he started to imagine what fun it would be to have his own pet whale or shark to swim around with. If it were a whale, he could climb up and then slide down into the sea. He could stand over its blowhole and get an upside-down shower. With a shark, he could hang onto its tall dorsal fin and speed through the water like a locomotive. He might have an eel that would tickle as it swam around him. Or an alligator that would let him use it as a surfboard. Lost in these amusing fantasies, he lay down on his back and spread his arms and legs and decided to stay that way until the waves washed him up on the shore.

   With his eyes closed and his limbs extended, he pictured himself as an octopus whose eight legs formed a wheel. He wriggled his fingers a little and imagined himself shooting ink into the water. A different color ink from each finger. Blue! - he flicked a finger. Red! - he flicked another. Green! - another. Yellow! Orange! Purple! He was running out of colors. He had six. His thumbs could be black and white. But he needed two more. Pink! That was ok. And he'd settle for gray. Well, maybe brown would be better. Whatever. He was floating in a rainbow. And each wave washed him with a different color.