Our Spot on the Beach

It was like the immense light you’re welcomed to when you walk out of the shade, the kind you have to shield your eyes from. Bright and beautiful at the same time. The kind of light you would see on a sunny day on the sand. Scattered clouds in which the rays beam through, only to hit the rippling water. The smell of salt, gulls crying out in the distance, and your toes only so close to the shore for the water to kiss them every time a wave crashed. Your fingers, submerged in sand, a feeling you enjoyed and hated later. Picking sand out from underneath your fingernails wasn’t your favorite thing to do in the world. But it was worth the beautiful scenery that you’d only get to enjoy for a short period of time.

Nothing comes without a cost. I learned that very quickly, through family problems or what happened ten stories down on the street. Often I would sit and watch outside my window at the people who worked, walked, and begged on the streets. My hands on the cold window sill, craving that wonderfully warm sand once more. It’s only been two days and I already miss the beach. There I could escape, I could be myself, and no one could tell me otherwise, but here, I’m nobody in a sea of people who will stop at nothing to get to the top. Even if it means sacrificing someone else to get there.

“Cindy! I’m leaving Tyler here with you while I go shopping! Okay?!”

“Okay Mom!” I yelled from my room.

Tyler is my brother and I love him dearly, I only wish he wasn’t such a handful. I got up from my seat, taking one last look at the street to watch my mom get into her car. You always have to be on the lookout here, I worry about her leaving by herself, but she doesn’t have much of a choice now.

“Sissy! Where mama going?”

I looked over to the door, grabbed my phone and slipped it into my back pocket then peeked around the corner of my room. I was greeted with a wide smile from Tyler, standing in the hallway. Squatting down, I smiled at him and said, “She’s just going to the store to get some food, she’ll be back soon. But I’m here, so what do you wanna do?”

His smile grew and he said, “Pillow fort!”

Pillow forts, one of his favorite things to do. I nodded and walked him to the living room, his hand in mine. We started grabbing couch cushions and pillows, staking them up to build the walls.

“What ’bout da ceiling?” He questioned, looking up at me.

I thought for a second and left the room, Tyler’s gaze not leaving me. I grabbed a sheet from my bed and ran back in, holding it up for him to see. His hands balled up as he smiled and jumped in the air out of enjoyment, “Yeah!”

I draped it over the pillow walls and tied it down to the chairs as best as I could. As soon as I was done, I looked over to Tyler, the look of amazement on his face. I lifted a part of the sheet that was being used as a makeshift door, and asked, “You wanna go inside?”

Tyler shook his head and I let go of the sheet, “Why not?”

“We need suppwies.” Tyler said confidently.

I chuckled and asked, “Supplies for what?”

“For if we get hungwie! We also need toys!”

I nodded, clearly understanding my mistake, “You are absolutely right Tyler, we’d never survive if you weren’t here.”

“Don’t say dat Sissy!” He frowned, running over and hugging my legs. His hands balled up in my shirt. I rubbed his head, ruffling his hair and apologized. He looked up at me, his eyes watery as if he was about to cry.

“I won’t say that again, I promise.” I whispered, giving him a warm smile.

He gave me a nod and we both walked to the kitchen. The floor creaking as we made our way there. Tyler left my side and raced towards the fridge, and I went over to the cupboards, “Sissy! Deres nothing in here.” Tyler said sadly.

I came to the same conclusion while looking in the cupboards, “Same here.”

Tyler walked over to me and nestled his head on my hip, “But I’m hungwie.”

I felt my heart clench and I placed my hand on his head, “Mom’s at the store right now, she’ll be back soon. And I’ll let you have first pick at what she brings back.”

As I rubbed his head I remembered a bag of clam cookies I had bought while we were at the beach. I rushed to my room, grabbing my duffle bag off the floor and began throwing my clothes out of it, trying to find them. Not realizing I had grabbed them, I accidently threw them across the room, the sound of them hitting the floor took my attention away from my bag. I walked over and picked them up, the cookies still in pretty good shape, even after the trip in the trunk and the fly over to the other side of my room.

Smiling, I walked out, the bag of cookies behind my back. I found Tyler in his room, looking for some toys to bring back with him into the fort. I leaned in the doorway,”Psst, hey Tyler.”

He looked over, board game in hand, “Yeah?”

I held up the bag of cookies with a smile, “I got a snack.”

He dropped the board game box and ran over to me, the lid of the box popped off in the process and some of the contents spilled out. He smiled brightly and raised his arms up for the bag of goodies. I handed them to him and he asked what was inside.

“You remember that nice lady on the beach?”

He nodded and I said, “Well she was selling these, they’re called clam cookies. There’s a candy pearl in the middle, so be careful not to hurt yourself eating them. You think you can handle it?”

He nodded and gave my legs a tight hug, “Tank you Sissy.”

I walked over to the board game, squatted down and started to pick up the pieces that had fallen out, “Is this what you wanna play in the pillow fort?”

He smiled and nodded, bending over to help pick up the mess. My eyes traveled up from the mess on the floor, to the miracle in front of me. When Tyler was born, the doctors said he wouldn’t be able to walk or talk or do much of anything for that matter. And here he is proving all of them wrong. He can talk, he does it quite often. He walks just as much as any other person, each of his strides full of happiness and pride. He was a miracle for Mom and I. We were scared we weren’t going to have much time with him, but I’m sure we’ll have each other well into our eighties.

“Done!” He smiled, putting the lid back on.

I was so focused on him, I hadn’t noticed we had picked them all up. I stood up and gave him a hand, picked up the box and led the way back to the fort. Once we were back, I placed the box on the floor. I looked over to the window and saw small specks of water,”Looks like it’s going to rain.”

Tyler walked over to the window, placed his hands on the window sill and stood up on his tippy-toes to look out. I leaned over next to him, trying to get a good look at the sky, it seemed really dark. I glanced over to the clock hanging on the wall in the kitchen, it saying that it was almost noon. It was going to be a bad one.

I told Tyler to stay where he was and ran to the kitchen, grabbing as many pots and bowls as I could. I looked up to the ceiling, looking for any crack, any brown water mark, placing bowls and pots underneath them all throughout the house. Tyler would periodically ask what I was doing, and I’d tell him, but soon enough he’d ask again. I don’t mind explaining myself, but it’s kinda hard to when you’re worried about water getting all over the floor.

I scanned the remaining rooms without pots in them, double checking to see if I’d find any cracks or water marks, which I didn’t. I made my way back to the fort, stopping at the hall closet to get some flashlights just in case the lights went out. I walked into the living room and noticed Tyler was already in the fort. I knelt down and crawled over to the sheet draped onto the fort as the door, and lifted it up.

“Hey you, you ok?” I asked concerned.

He nodded and patted the floor next to him. I tossed the sheet up a bit so I could crawl in without pulling the sheet with me, then sat down indian style. I placed the flashlights to the side and looked down at the board game between us.

“Trouble huh.” I smirked.

Tyler laughed and said, “I love dis game!”

I chuckled and opened the box, looking up at the sound of a crunch. Tyler was eating the clam cookies, “How are they?” I raised a brow, waiting for his answer.

He finished the cookie he had already bit into, wiped the crumbs from his mouth and said, “Dey’re dewicious! You want some Sissy?”

He held out one in the palm of his hand, I shook my head and politely declined. I wanted him to eat them. Even though I bought them for myself, I wanted him to enjoy them. His company is enough for me, I can wait to eat when Mom gets home. I was happy to see him having such a good time. He rarely gets them, with all the bullying and teasing he’s endured at school, I’m happy I can make it up to him here.

“Hey Sissy.”

I looked up to see what Tyler wanted, “Yeah?”

“Did you color when we were at da beach?” He asked, pointing over to my sketch book, sitting on the coffee table.

I nodded and said, “Yeah, I painted the sea and the sky, I painted the sand, and I started painting something very special to me, but I didn’t have the chance to finish it yet. But I’m pretty sure I can finish it by memory.”

“Will you show me?”

“Sure anytime you want. But don’t you want to play this game first? You already have it set up.”

Tyler nodded and picked out the color he wanted to be, pressed down on the button in the middle of the board, waiting for a six to leave home. We took turns like this for a while, waiting for the die to roll a six, and finally he got it. He cheered in joy and went again, rolling another number then moving forward.

I love spending moments like this with Tyler, he’s so much fun to be around, I couldn’t have asked for a more loving, special brother. Even if I did get picked on when I was little for having him around, I still love him as much as I did the day he was born. He’s no different than any other seven year old. Others call him “special” in a different sense than I do. He’s not “special” because of his disability, he’s special because he changes people’s lives in so many ways. He changed mine, he changed my mother’s, he changed my father’s, even though he’s not around anymore, he was still impacted by Tyler.

It was hard seeing my family fall apart. Mom would always fight with Dad for always showing up late, or never bringing home his full paycheck. She knew what he was doing, but she ignored the bigger picture. Often times I would walk past her room and see her crying in bed, her arms around her stomach. Tyler wasn’t born at that time, which was probably a good thing, he wouldn’t have liked Mom and Dad fighting day and night. I know I didn’t. But it made me the artist I am today, painting was my escape, but now it’s only a hobby.

Before Tyler was born, Mom and Dad divorced. Mom got custody over me and Tyler, even though he hadn’t been born yet. And as for my dad, well he wasn’t really apart of our lives anymore. He didn’t show up for Tyler’s birth, and Mom didn’t have a hand to hold in that painful, but memorable moment. But we didn’t need him to make those memories happy, that day was just as special, even if he hadn’t come to see Tyler.

Mom moved to a more affordable part of New York, and we’ve lived here ever since. There’s cracks in the walls and ceilings, and chips in the paint, squeaky floorboards, noisy radiators that can keep you up at night, noisy neighbors that’ll do the same thing, but it’s home. It’s my home, and it’s not my home just because I live here. It’s my home because Tyler and my mom are here with me to make it home.

But there’s one place that feels more like home than here. Where Mom, Tyler and I always go when we have the chance. In the summer, Mom gets a big bonus, enough money for all of us to go on a trip to see the ocean. It’s always a fun time and we’re always waiting for summer to come around the corner. Tyler loves the water, but hates the sand getting between his toes. When we get there, I always go to bed extra early and wake up before the sun rises. I bring my sketchbook with me, along with my paints. Walking along the shore, I’d head for one specific place on the beach, where the water always crashed upon the spot where the sand met the rocks. Tyler liked sitting on the rocks away from the sand, and Mom liked feeling the wet ocean breeze. I liked the perfect view, and the fact that there weren’t many people. It was our spot, where we always went.

“Sissy!”

I looked over to Tyler, his shout bringing me from my thoughts, “Yeah?” I asked quickly.

“It’s your turn.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Got lost in thought.” I said softly.

We continued on with our game, ever so slowly getting to the end. By the time the game was finished, I peeked through the sheet and over to the clock hanging on the wall. It was almost one o’clock. I sighed and leaned on one of the pillows that was up against the wall.

“How long is Mom going to be gone?” I wondered.

I looked over to Tyler, him more focused on the next toy to play with, rather than the whereabouts of our mom. The booming thunder of the storm getting louder and closer. Tyler looked up at me, his eyes ones of worry. I quickly grabbed one of the flashlights that I had gotten from the hall closet earlier and said, “It’s all going to be ok. If the lights go out we’ll just stay in here. No biggy.”

Tyler nodded and moved closer to me, his hands wrapping around my waist and his head resting on my chest. I held him close, rubbing his hair soothingly. Everytime the thunder would clap, I could feel Tyler’s body tensen up. His hands clenching tighter around my shirt. I understood his fear of storms, I could relate, but the way he was holding onto me, made me remember something I thought I had long forgotten.

A long time ago, before Tyler was born, a storm came in out of nowhere. The weather channel didn’t talk about it, and the radio didn’t notify us like it usually would. I only remember so much of that night, but it was still scary nonetheless.

Dad had just gotten home, his shirt partially buttoned and his hair a mess. It was slightly wet due to the rain that was only beginning to pour down. We had a decent home then, we could afford it. We didn’t have any leaky ceilings or brown water marks. Mom was in the kitchen, washing some dishes from our dinner, that we had to eat without Dad, again. I was in the hallway, doing what all kids did when they couldn’t go outside. Playing with toys. I had a barbie and an action figure that I stole from my Dad’s figurine collection. Barbie was the mom and the G.I. Joe action figure was the dad.

When I heard the front door open, I quickly hid the action figure behind my back, hoping Dad wouldn’t notice. His footsteps heavy as he walked towards the kitchen, his shadow casting along the hallway wall. Then disappearing when he went into another room. I waited and listened, wondering why it was so quiet.

“Where’s my dinner?” I could hear Dad ask, somewhat frustrated.

There wasn’t an immediate response from Mom, but then she spoke up, “In the fridge. You can heat it up in the microwave.”

“What happened to a hot home cooked meal?! That’s why you stay home! To clean and cook, and you can’t even do that!” Dad shouted, a couple thuds following after. I only assumed he had knocked over a chair or something, whatever it was, it was heavy.

“How am I supposed to do that when you’re always coming home late?!” Mom yelled, her voice cracking, I could tell she was about to cry. She always cried when they fought.

“Just forget it. I’ll go to bed hungry.” Dad growled.

I pulled the action figure into my lap, looking at it, but not seeing the father and husband I pretended him to be while playing. All I could see was a beast, a rabid animal that only consumed everything in its path. All I saw was my father.

Not paying attention, the thud of heavy boots stopped right next to me. I felt my body go cold, sweat started to pour at my temples and neck, I knew what was going to happen.

“What’s that you have there?” My father asked, already knowing the answer. Before I could respond, he leaned down very quickly, his face only inches away from mine, “It’s my collectable! The one I tell you never to touch!”

My eyes began to water and he reached down and grabbed my arm, the action figure falling out of my hand from the force. I screamed out in pain from the tight grip he had on my arm. My mom ran in from the kitchen, grabbing Dad’s hand and tried to pry his grip off of me. As she attempted to do so, he swung his other arm around and back handed Mom. She gasped and fell to the floor, holding her face as tears slowly fell. I screamed at him, kicking his legs, and slapping at any part of him that I could reach.

Mom began to stand back up but Dad glared at her, their eyes meeting for what seemed like forever. She hesitated but sat back down, her hand still on her reddened cheek. I looked up at my father, the veins in his neck bulging and his teeth gritting. He looked like one of the scary monsters you’d read in a book. He looked over to me, my eyes meeting his and for a moment, I could see him take a second to actually see what he was doing.

My vision was blurry from all of the tears in my eyes, but I watched something click inside of him. He slowly let go of me, and brushed past, storming to his room and locking the door. I ran over to Mom, falling to my knees and holding onto her as if we were afloat in the deep sea. Her being what kept me from sinking into the dark abyss. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me close, “I’m so sorry Cindy, Mommy’s so sorry. I’ll never let him hurt you like that ever again. I promise.”

“Are you ok Mommy?” I cried out, wrapping my arms around her neck.

Her hands ran up and down my back, soothing me, “I’m fine honey, Mommy’s ok. Are you ok?”

I nodded, lying. I wasn’t ok. My arm burned from where he held onto me tightly, and my head hurt from the loud yelling. We sat there, for hours, just holding each other, weeping about what had just occurred. Mom rubbed my back every moment, shushing my cries with her comforting voice. Her smell filling my senses and making everything blur together. Her smell was unique. No other person had the same smell as my mother. With the mix of her choice in perfume, and hairspray, and shampoo, there was no way another person had her smell. It might sound weird, but it’s true. And the smell was so comforting. I’d find myself asking to sleep in her bed at night to have that comforting smell to keep the bad dreams away. There was such a strong connection between my mother and I, so strong, it seemed as though nothing could break it.

We both looked over at the sound of things crashing and objects being knocked over in their bedroom, then Dad yelling profanities that no child should ever hear. Mom covered my ears and turned my gaze to her smile. She pursed her lips as to shush me, so we wouldn’t make him more mad. A flash of light from outside, outlining her figure in the dark room.

That night my mom slept in my room with me. We sat on my bed, looking at an old magazine she had picked up from a stand on the street corner. It was vacation spots, all over the country. Scanning the pages, my eyes caught one specific picture.

“There! What’s that place?” I asked, pointing at it with my finger.

My mother smiled, and looked over to me, “It’s in Florida. I hear the beaches are so nice there. There’s gulls, fish, and waves that crash along the shore.”

I stared at the picture, trying to imagine what it would be like to go there, “Do you think we can go to Florida one day Mom?” I asked softly.

My mom gave me a heart warming smile, her hand rubbing my back once more, “I’ll make sure you see the shore Cindy.”

As she said that, she reached over to the bedside table that stood beside us, picking up a marker and circling one specific spot on the beach, then scribbled Our Spot onto the paper. She looked over to me and smiled, “And that’s where we’ll go. That’s our spot.”

I smiled, hugging her as she set the magazine on the bedside table, “I can’t wait Mom.”

“Me neither Cindy.”

We slept all throughout the night, and even through the morning sunlight. It wasn’t till noon that we woke up, to find the living room a mess. There were beer bottles scattered along the couch and floor, tables knocked over, the curtains torn and tattered. Mom sighed and began picking things up, throwing away the beer bottles, fixing the overturned furniture and permanently removing the curtains. I guess Dad was still upset with us from last night.

A loud bang jolted me and made me look over to Tyler, not realizing I was thinking about the past again. I get so lost in thought sometimes, I can’t help it. Tyler was asleep, his head resting on my lap and his body curled up in a small ball. I smiled and placed my hand on his head, stroking his hair in a comforting motion. I could tell he was getting cold, so I lifted his head, doing my best not to wake him, and laid him back down on the floor.

Crawling out of the fort, I made my way to my room, the squeaky floorboards making it nearly impossible to get there quietly. When I made it to my room, I could hear my stomach slightly growl, I placed my hand on it, trying to see if that would help muffle the noise. I reached for my comforter and pulled it towards me, folding it as best I could to make it easier to carry back to the fort. Before I left, I took one last look at my paintings on my wall, almost every square inch was covered in a painting or sketch I had done within the past couple of years, except one small corner on the right side of my room. Each one of the paintings varying in professionalism, the older ones being more childlike than the newer ones. I could really see my progress grow as the years went by. In the small corner were polaroid pictures that my friends or I have taken. The corner is so small because I don’t consider that many people to be my friends, maybe acquaintances, but not that personal.

I smiled to myself, then left the room, clutching the folded up blanket to my chest, trying to warm it up a bit before I got back to the pillow fort. As I entered it again, I softly placed the blanket over Tyler’s sleeping body. I lifted up an edge of the blanket and slid underneath it, pulling Tyler closer to me and wrapping my arms around him. His warmth making me hum in comfort. We layed like this for a while, my eyes growing heavy as the storm raged on outside. I could hear leaves that had already fallen begin to hit the windows. The wind so strong that they reached the tenth floor.

I held Tyler close, his breathing so soft you could barely hear it. Sometimes I would wake up and look over to his chest to make sure it was still rising and falling like normal. I get so protective over him sometimes, even when I know I shouldn’t worry about him. I stroked his hair, humming softly in his ear, singing a short lullaby, helping both him and I fall asleep. Even though it was only a little past noon, it’s always nice to have a nap, especially with little ones, to avoid the crankiness that happens when they get too tired.

The storm started to pick up even more, the thunder seeming to shake the whole building right to its core. The panels rattled and the racks in the stove would clink together. You could even hear the glasses in the cupboards tap against each other, creating a wave of noises. They were so loud I was hoping they wouldn’t wake Tyler up. Sometimes the rumble of the thunder confused me, I couldn’t tell if it was the storm or if it was my stomach telling me to eat. I placed a hand on my stomach, waiting for the next time I felt the rumble and soon enough, it was me, and then sometimes it was the storm. So I really was hungry and it wasn’t just my imagination.

I looked over and saw the bag of clam cookies, sitting all lonesome. I sighed, looking back up to the sheet ceiling, “I can wait. I gave those to Tyler.”

But then I’d catch myself looking back at them, my stomach seeming to growl even louder, “Then again...he did offer me one. So it wouldn’t technically be counted as stealing, right?” I quickly looked away from the tempting treat, slid my hands under my butt to keep them from traveling over to the heavenly snack only two feet away from me, “I’ll just go to sleep. I’ll forget about being hungry as soon as I fall asleep. Just go to sleep Cindy. Go to sleep.”

I kept whispering this to myself, hoping maybe the soft sound of my voice would lull me to sleep, and eventually I brainwashed myself and I was out like a light. I could still hear the soft pitter patter of rain in the far distance, it mixing and eventually fading into the sound of waves crashing on the shore.

I opened my eyes, being blinded by an immense light, I raised my arm up and over my face, and waited for my eyes to adjust. Eventually I could make out the bright blue sky, a cloud only floating by here or there. I turned my head and looked over to the right of me, no one being around me for miles. I looked to the left and saw the water, rippling and falling on itself as the waves crashed.

I instantly dug my hands into the warm sand, moving them around until they were completely submerged in it. I sat up and looked around again, looking for any sign that I wasn’t alone, but my fears only grew as there wasn’t anything. Not even a mark in the sand as of how I got there. There weren’t any tracks, nothing.

I looked back to the ocean, and began walking to the water, it seeming to call me towards it. Luring me closer and closer, my feet only inches away from the water’s edge. The ocean’s breeze winding around me, my hands interlocking with it as it pulled me closer and closer. I felt a chill go up my spine and throughout my body, my hair flying freely in the breeze. I froze when my toes finally hit the water, and I slowly closed my eyes. Enjoying the feeling the water brought once again.

“Cindy!”

I quickly looked over at the sound of my name, “I thought I was the only one here…”

“Cindy!” Someone called from the distance.

Their voice sounded so familiar, I’ve heard it before. I just couldn’t tell who it was that was calling my name. I raised my hand to shade my eyes and searched, then I saw a figure out on the shore. Them being too far away for me to tell.

“Cindy! Look out!” They screamed.

Why were they screaming? How did they know me? What were they doing here?

I felt the water recede away from my feet, and I looked down, only standing in wet sand.

“No! My baby!”

“Mom?” I whispered softly to myself.

They were running towards me, hair pulled back and falling side to side with every step they took. I walked forward but was pulled back by something, I couldn’t tell what it was, but I was stuck, “Mom!” I cried out, my arms held out for her. For some reason, I needed to get to her. I knew it, but I didn’t know why.

“Cindy!”

I felt a harsh wind rush past me and I looked back, a giant wave towering over me feet in the air. My heart dropped and I tried to run away, but something kept pulling me back. I couldn’t move. This was it, I was going to die. I quickly took in a breath and waited for the impact of the water to hit me.

I looked over to my mother as the sun’s light began to be blocked by the massive wave. She was on her knees, crying, but she wasn’t alone anymore. There was someone on the ground in front of her. They were unconscious. She pulled them into her arms, screaming as their head fell to the side. My eyes widened and my breath hitched in my throat. It was me.

“Mom!”

As soon as I yelled for her, the wave crashed over me, my body flailing around, trying to reach the top for air. I felt like I was constantly spinning, everything morphing into one another. My hands wrapped around my throat, trying to keep the air I still had inside. My eyes clamped shut, the salt burning them. My chest burned, as if it was on fire. The oxygen turning into carbon dioxide and burning my lungs.

I gasped for air, but there was none. Only water. I tried my best to resurface, but to no avail. I was slowly sinking to the bottom of the ocean. My arm outstretched to the blur of light above me. Everything slowly beginning to fade into darkness.