Reciprocity

Three friends discover that a weekend on the beach does not go as planned.

 Recirprocity

The large bonfire crackled gently as it spewed glowing embers upward into the strong offshore wind, which swiftly carried them away towards the distant dunes. The sphere of orange flickering light was an oasis in the vast darkness of sand, sea, and brilliant beach sky, which is always hypnotic in the night.

     “Anybody else need one?” asked Jack Rodgers from the inside of his 1974 Volkswagen Bus. Jack was a college sophomore celebrating the end of a long week of mid-term exams and presently elbow deep in an ice chest full of beer. His buddies Eric Morales and Chuck Scott were sitting in tattered lawn chairs on the opposite side of the fire with their backs facing the Gulf of Mexico. They were camped between the soft sand at the foot of the dunes and the narrow and always changing path that ran alongside the shoreline. 

 

“I’ll take one,” said Eric and began chugging the rest of the one he already had. Eric worked as a cook at a local barbeque joint and did not have to be back there until Sunday afternoon. He belched loudly as he crushed the now empty can with his right hand and then bounced it off of the half buried spade of an upright shovel into a nearby hole in the sand.

    “I’m good,” Replied Chuck, who was digging through his music collection to find something to put into the portable boom box that he often took to the beach. Chuck worked for his Father’s painting business and could pretty much take time off whenever he wanted. They had all brought fishing poles and tackle, but forgot to stop and get bait. They mainly just wanted to get away from the city for a day or two of sun and relaxation on Padre Island.

 

Jack hopped from the van and tossed a cold and dripping wet beer can over the fire towards Eric, who made an impressive juggling catch despite being blinded by the bright flames. The fire hissed loudly as water and ice landed on the burning driftwood.

   “Did I tell you guys I saw Stephanie Saenz the other day at the movies?” Jack asked; referring to a girl he dated in high school.

   “Get out of here,” Chuck answered. “I thought that she moved to San Antonio.” Jack grabbed his lawn chair and pulled it away from the growing heat of the fire and closer to the van.

   “I don’t know where she lives now,” he said as he plopped into the repositioned chair,

   “But I was with Nicole and it was pretty awkward.”

   “Aw, poor you,” Eric said sarcastically. “You’re beating women off with sticks while ole Chuck and I couldn’t pay a woman to give us the...” Eric never finished his sentence because Jack suddenly jumped up and grabbed the nearby shovel and with both hands and raised it ready to strike. His horrified gaze was fixed on something coming up directly behind his two friends.

 

Instantly reacting to both Jack’s sudden defensive posture and sensing something was behind them, Eric and Chuck flung themselves in opposite directions down into the sand. They quickly scrambled to their feet and turned to see what was behind them. A thin middle-aged man with dirty blond hair had slowly staggered from the darkness into the campsite. He was wearing only some ragged cut-off jeans and was bleeding severely from a large gash above his left temple. The boys knew the island could be a dangerous place at night, especially in the more secluded areas far from the access roads, but they were caught off guard none the less. 

 

    “Help...help me,” the man stammered.

    “I need to find my girlfriend.” Eric and Chuck slowly backed away with stunned looks on their faces. Jack was the first to respond still holding the shovel as if it were a baseball bat.     

    “Dude, what happened? Are you alright?” The injured man attempted to brace himself against the back part of Eric’s lawn chair but fell taking the chair down with him to the sand.

    “My girlfriend...” the man repeated.

    “Were you in a car accident?” Chuck asked as both he and Eric helped the man to his feet.

    “I need to find my girlfriend,” the man said again as he pointed northward up the beach.

 

    “Get him into the van.” Jack said as he dropped the shovel and ran to the driver’s side of the vehicle. As soon as Eric and Chuck lifted the man through the side entrance of the van and onto the long vinyl rear seat they noticed the overwhelming smell of alcohol. Jack quickly started pulling away from the campsite even before Chuck had the sliding side door shut.

    “We’re going to get you to a doctor buddy, so hold on.” Jack shouted over the loud German engine. He was referring to the Park Ranger Station that was a few miles North.

    “What a trip,” Eric whispered loudly to Jack as he climbed into the front passenger seat.

 

Jack drove up the beach as fast anyone in a VW Bus in sand could, passing an abandoned taxicab on the way. The taxicab, which had both front doors open and the interior light on, appeared to be stuck in the soft sand near the dunes. As they neared the ranger station Jack and Eric noticed a woman walking along the shore ahead of them. She was also headed towards the ranger station.

    “Hey, maybe she is this guy’s girlfriend.” Eric said. The woman, after seeing the headlights, turned around and began to flag the boys down as she ran from the shoreline. She was a large black woman; at least five times the girth of the bloody man. Jack slowed the van and pulled up next to her.

     “Excuse me,” she said loudly as she approached Eric who quickly rolled down the passenger side window.

     “My boyfriend is in a taxi back there and he is hurt. Do you think you could stop at the ranger station and tell them to send...?” The bloody man, who had been lying motionless across the back seat, suddenly sprang to life when he heard the woman’s voice and clawed his way over Chuck's back onto the floor near the sliding door of the van..

 

    “Cheryl,” he screamed as he clumsily attempted to open the side door. The woman, upon hearing his voice, turned and saw him through the side window.

   “Oh my God, don’t let him out,” she screamed and quickly stumbled away from the van with a terrified look on her face. Jack let his foot off of the brake peddle and started to move forward. The man went fanatical.

    “Stop, Let me out!” he screamed threateningly. Jack, feeling intimidated, immediately stopped and shifted into neutral then jumped out of the van with his fists clenched. The man, unable to figure out how to open the side door, hastily made a beeline after Jack out of the driver’s side door. He climbed over the driver’s seat then tripped and fell out of the vehicle and landed on his face in the sand. He groaned and slowly got to his feet and stumbled after the large woman, who had resumed a more rapid walk on the shore towards the ranger station.

     “Cheryl, wait up!” the man yelled as he went running after her. The vans headlights clearly revealed the sand now stuck to all the blood on his head, neck, and torso.

    “Get away from me you drunken a*s,” she said moving away as fast as she could. Moments later both figures faded into the darkness; their quarreling voices contradicting the soothing surf then faded away.

 

All three young men were now standing on the wet sand at the waters edge staring northward up the beach. The ranger station lights were visible in the distance.

    “Wow,” Chuck said laughingly.

    “That was totally wild.” Jack responded then turned around to see the faint light of their distant fire miles in the opposite direction.

    “Let’s get back before someone steals our stuff.” He said as he headed for the van. Jack carefully reversed direction and began slowly driving back towards their fire. Without saying a word Jack suddenly stopped the van and got out. Eric and Chuck immediately followed. Jack wanted to investigate the taxi cab and was careful not to park too close. The van would easily get stuck as well.

    “Yeah, let’s check it out,” Eric said as the boys crossed the soft sand over to the taxi.

    “Not too smart parking over here,” Chuck pointed out. Seconds later he stumbled over something near the trunk of the vehicle, which had a blanket laid out on it.

    “Hey, check it out, “he yelled and held up a large bottle of cheap whisky. It was about half full and the cap was still on it. Jack leaned into the driver side of the vehicle and Chuck jumped into the passenger seat.

    “Damn, I guess they were celebrating.” Jack said as he motioned to a nearly full case of beer in the back seat.

    “He sure as hell was,” said Eric, who was now in the back seat of the taxi. In addition to the alcohol, there was a cell phone, a wallet, some jewelry, and a nearly full pack of cigarettes on the back floorboards.

    “There’s almost two hundred bucks in here.” Eric said as he thumbed through the cash in what turned out to be the drunken man’s wallet. After some debate, the boys decided to put the valuables including the keys, which had still been in the ignition, into the glove compartment. They then locked all but one of the rear doors and went back across the sand to the van.

 

“What do you want to bet fat girl cracked ole dude’s head with that whisky bottle,” Chuck said as climbed into the van and opened the side door.

    “I’ll buy that.” Eric replied as he climbed in the side door and set the case of beer and said whisky bottle down on the floorboard.

    “I don’t think our drunk and bloody friend will need anymore of this,” he said and turned to shut the side door.

    “His girlfriend would probably thank us.” Jack and Chuck grumbled in reluctant agreement. On their way back to the camp they all decided it would be best to relocate in case the drunken man came staggering back looking for his booze.

 

Jack pulled up by the fire and slammed his hands down on the steering wheel in disgust. “Son of a b***h!” he yelled and then slowly slumped over the steering wheel. The side door flew open and Chuck and Eric flew out in a rage and ran in different directions in high pursuit of nothing in the darkness. They soon sulked back to the fire mumbling curse words.

    “See what happens when you try to be nice.” Eric screamed. Moments later they were traveling south along the shore. Everything had been stolen from their campsite. Even the empty cans from the hole they had dug in the sand.