| ...the summer had never hit him like that in
his life, the summer would never come like that again. It seemed like the
sun was always riding low in the sky, painting the whole world shades of
gold and black. He was young, and the gull cries were like this clarion
call… He saw them all day, dreamed of them all night. The girls walking across the endless sands and he just knew there was one, one girl just for him, placed in this city to meet him on this beach and life would never be the same again. He was young, seventeen years old and so was she. She came to him on the pier just after sunset, three days into his vacation. The salt smell of the sea was in the air, and lights lined the boardwalk. People were laughing as the boardwalk echoed with footfalls and there was music everywhere. She sat down beside him, at a distance and looked over and smiled. He smiled back, and said hello. Before long they were walking along the beach holding hands, and sitting on the rocks and kissing in the shallow waters of a sand encircled grotto that the tide barely touched. He found that he could lie back and say nothing, do nothing with her beside him and this calm, this harmony would wash over him and then she would reach over with her hand and when she touched him the tide of his emotions would rise and he would look at her, hair blowing softly in the breeze. And he would catch just a shadow, a glimmer of a smile, a shimmer of eyes and he’d never felt that way before. He’d had a hard life and happy moments had come few and far between. This was the first time in a long time that he felt like he could just lie back, breathe deeply and feel the world around him. So when she leaned in and said, “meet me on the boardwalk, tomorrow.” He knew that nothing on earth would keep him from being there. But when he arrived in the light of the lamp beneath the surf shop, where they’d decided to meet, she wasn’t there. He knew the moment he got there that she wasn’t coming, now or ever, but he waited just the same. He’d wanted it so badly that he couldn’t let it go even though he knew it was already gone. So now, once a year he comes back to this place, on the anniversary of the night she was supposed to meet him. He’s been doing this for nineteen years now. Not because he has any hope that he’ll ever see her again, but because when he’s here on this day, he feels the way he did that night. A feeling he’s been searching for in the eyes and arms of other women ever since. Searching, but searching in vain. So, he comes here to remember, and he holds out a secret hope that maybe if it happened here once, it can happen again. Even now all these years later, maybe he can find someone that will make him happy. Make the sea shine the way it did that night, make the wind blow a sweet scent and the gulls cry a song of love. In his heart of hearts, he knows that it probably wasn’t her, probably wasn’t him. It was the perfect storm of time and place, and two people under the spell of the stars and the sea. But it feels good nonetheless to be here, and to reminisce, and it all comes back once a year and just for a moment when the wind kicks up and the waves crash on the shore, he feels just as he did then and he’s seventeen, wrapped up in her arms, singing softly to her, and they are young and in love, and the whole world is theirs. That’s why he comes here every year, to remember what it feels like to hope for something with all your heart, with a reckless abandon, and a total disregard for whatever pain that might result. “Most men don’t fall in love easily,” I said, “it takes years really, for the seed to take root.” |
