Reclaiming the Sand

by A. Meredith Walters

But I liked animals. Always had.

  Animals didn’t hurt you. They loved unconditionally. They gave you their heart without expecting anything in return.

  I appreciated that.

  Erin didn’t push me. She had quickly learned that pushing didn’t get her anywhere with me. This wasn’t the first dog she had tried to foist on me. But this was the first time I had considered taking her up on the suggestion. Murphy, the furry critter in question, pushed his head into my hand, a silent order for me to continue my administrations. I curled my hand into a fist, refusing myself the brief happiness.

  Erin rubbed Murphy’s head and his tongue lolled out of his mouth. If I had a heart, he would have made it melt.

  “Come on boy, let’s get you back in the cage,” I said, annoyed by Erin’s presence.

  “No, don’t put him back yet. He needs more exercise. I just wanted to check on him. You know he’s been here for three months already,” Erin said, not looking at me, her focus on the dog at my feet.

  My stomach clenched. “Yeah, I knew that,” I said shortly. I also knew that funding for the shelter was bare bones. Space was limited. And with new animals coming in every day, there was only one thing left to do when dogs and cats weren’t adopted.

  “We’re going to need his cage pretty soon,” Erin said, her eyes soft as she watched Murphy bound across the enclosed yard to chase a squirrel.

  He had been brought in as a stray. No one ever came to claim him. He’d been tossed aside. Forgotten.

  Murphy and I were a lot alike.

  The gigantic dog ran back to my side and sat on the ground, pressing himself into my legs, nudging my hand again. I couldn’t help but curl my fingers into the fur at the back of his head.

  Erin looked at the two of us. “Just thought you should know,” she said, giving me a sad smile. She gave Murphy a treat and then left us alone.

  I looked down at the dog munching happily, unaware of his fate. He had no idea that in a matter of months, weeks maybe, he’d be given an injection to make him go to sleep and he’d never wake up.

  A sick part of me was jealous of him. Of his obliviousness. If only I could slip away quietly…ignorantly.

  I clipped the leash onto his collar and walked him back to his cage, closing him inside without another glance.

  I couldn’t look at him anymore.

  Because it hurt.

  And I didn’t like hurting.

  “You wanna go swimming? It’s going to be in the nineties today,” Dania asked from her perch on top of the counter at JAC’s. I was due to get off in an hour and had planned to go home and finish my college paperwork.

  I had hemmed and hawed over the folder that was hidden in my bedside drawer. It was stupid of me to think a few college classes would miraculously make this shit life all better.

  But I had been given a taste of something I thought I could never have. At that made it downright irresistible.

  What would one class hurt? If it sucked, I could chalk it up to experience and never have to think about it again.

  I was prepared to fail. It’s what I did best after all.

  Though what if I didn’t fail? What if I did something right, finally? The possibility of succeeding was almost more terrifying than the familiarity of failure.

  But the fact that I was thinking about it all indicated a huge shift in my outlook.

  I couldn’t pin point the cause of my change. Whether it was a gradual realization or lightning bolt awareness that I wanted something more. I had no idea. But I could remember with vivid clarity, the day it had happened.

  I was waiting for Dania after her first prenatal appointment at the free clinic three months ago. I was still hung over from my bender the night before. I had gotten wasted and ended up sleeping with Lyle Katz, a guy six years older than me and with a lot less prospects. I had kicked him out and proceeded to empty my stomach into the toilet.

  Two hours later I was driving Dania downtown while she teased me about taking my shirt off at the party. I was notorious for doing dumb crap when I was drunk, so the news was no surprise. I listened to her tell the story of my craziness with an encroaching sense of embarrassment.

  Dania described a pathetic, nasty, and downright loathsome person who got into a fight and hooked up with some dude who had come to the party with his girlfriend.

  That person was me. And I hated it.

  Dania had gone back to get checked out and I had been sitting in the waiting room, trying not to be mortified by the things I had done the previous night and thumbing through a magazine ten years old. Something had made me look up and take in the room around me.

  It was depressing.

  These were people just as stuck in their destructive patterns as I was.

  Underage moms. White trash. Meth addicts. The tired and useless.

  And I was one of them. I had allowed myself to be.

  I had been going through the motions for so long. With no self-respect and little to no pride. Looking at these people, so much like me, everything inside me screamed at me in realization. Life sucked. I was tired of life sucking. I was sick of being okay with my life sucking.

  Something had sunk in deep. At the next visit I found the brochure for the community college and while it hadn’t been an “aha” light bulb moment. A tiny, dim flame had been lit and it had been there ever since.

  Sure everything else in my life tried to overshadow it. But it was there. Slowly burning. Just waiting for me to allow it to grow.

  And looking at my best friend, with her ever growing belly and good looks that became more tired and haggard every day, I could admit that I was starting to get scared that this was all there was to my life.

  This was it.

  The end.

  How sad was that?

  “I’m pretty beat,” I said lamely. Dania hopped off the counter, grabbing a candy bar and unwrapped it.

  “I’m beginning to think you have a vitamin deficiency or something. You’re always tired. You used to be so much fun, Ells. You kind of suck lately,” Dania pouted, taking a bite out of her Hershey bar. She grabbed a bag of jalapeno chips and opened them as well.

  “Yuck!” I made a face. Dania shrugged, taking a bite of chocolate and then popping a chip in her mouth.

  “Cravings. They’re weird,” she remarked breezily. I wished I could get a read on what she thought about her pregnancy. You would think her constant drinking and partying would be answer enough.

  But there were moments when I almost thought she cared. That she even looked forward to bringing that new life into the world.

  She kept her prenatal appointments. She went every month. And I knew she still took the vitamins she had been prescribed. Once I had even caught her looking at baby clothes online.

  Though when I tried to bring up what her plan was for after the baby was born, whether she’d keep it or give it up for adoption, she absolutely refused to discuss it.

  I didn’t understand Dania. I don’t think I ever did.

  “So you’re coming. One of us has to show off the body they still have. And Reggie’s thunder thighs are enough to make my eyes bleed. Plus, Shane’s been bugging the shit out of me to get you to come,” Dania said dismissively.

  I snorted. That so was not going to happen this side of sanity.

  I popped my bubble gum and wiped some sweat off my brow. The air conditioner had been on the fritz for the past two weeks and Jeb had yet to call a repairman. He was such a cheapskate. Right down to his shiny pants and bad toupee. He was the walking, talking stereotype of a weaselly, middle-aged shop owner.

  “It’s hot as hell and with this thing cooking inside me, I need to cool off. Stu said he’d bring a keg. Come on!” Dania wheedled. I hated it when she wheedled. It grated on my nerves.

  “Fine whatever,” I mumbled, giving her the victory she had been looking for. I was such a hard ass in most situations but was somehow unable to stand up to my best friend.

  It was a serious character flaw.
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  “So what happened with you and Reggie the other morning? Did you rip her hair out?” I asked, though I probably shouldn’t have bothered to ask. I had seen Reggie yesterday and she was sporting a split lip. Dania apparently hadn’t been very forgiving.

  Dania rolled her eyes and hopped down from the counter. She rolled her tiny tank top up over her belly. “I can’t stay mad at Reggie. She’s too stupid to know what she’s doing half the time,” she dismissed.

  I came out from behind the cash register and started straightening the cans of whipped cream in the cooler knocked over from a teenage whip it raid.

  “Why do you care though? You and Stu haven’t hooked up in years,” I asked. I didn’t expect Dania to answer me. This was one of the topics she would shut down each and every time.

  “So, you and Shane gonna get naked tonight?” Dania asked, doing just what I knew she’d do. Change the subject.

  I made a gagging noise. “Yeah if I want syphilis,” I smirked. I had slept with him when I was young and stupid. When I had been trying to fill the void in my heart by spreading my legs. I had thought sex would help me feel connected to someone.

  It hadn’t. It had hurt. A lot. It was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. We had been drunk in a field. Shane, not much caring where he got his rocks off, took me into the brush and didn’t even bother to remove my clothes. There was no kissing. No caressing. No whispered sweet nothings in my ear.

  He had pushed down my jeans and screwed me right there. With a pinecone in my back and grass in my hair. He had been rough and sloppy, poking away before pulling out and telling me to jack him off with my hand.

  I had been horrified by the sticky stuff on my skin and had tried to wipe my hands off on the ground.

  Afterwards he hadn’t even bothered to help me up, returning to the party like nothing had happened.

  I had wanted to cry. But I hadn’t. I never cried. Not since I was six years old.

  I remembered the blood on my thighs and the sight of my crumpled underwear around my ankles and I had felt dirty. Even after all that I had been through at that point in my life, I had held onto the foolish idea that sex would be magic. It would be beautiful and all consuming.

  I should probably have picked someone other than Shane Nolan to pop my cherry then.

  Dania smacked my arm. “You’re so picky. I don’t know who the hell you’re waiting for? Prince fucking Charming? Because if that’s the case you’ll be waiting a long ass time. Princes don’t ride into Wellsburg, sweetheart,” she scoffed, giving me a loud and messy kiss on the cheek.

  I wiped my face with the back of my hand.

  “So, I’ll be at Woolly’s when you get off. Come and get me,” Dania said, not giving me time to argue.

  The remainder of my shift passed uneventfully. There had been a whole ten customers. It really was a dead end store in a dead end town.

  Melanie came in to start her shift around five. Her energetic smile was enough to make me scramble out the door.

  The sun sat low in the sky and I knew our swimming trip would turn into an all-night kegger. The air smelled like a party. It was the only thing to do on sweltering summer nights in the middle of nowhere. Drinking and drugs and lots and lots of sex.

  Woolly’s had the front door propped open, indicating that they too had a broken down air conditioner. Inside was oppressively hot and I hoped Dania was ready to leave. There was no way I could hang out inside and stay conscious.

  Dania was perched up at the bar, Stu and Shane flanking her on either side. Stu looked bored. Shane was staring blatantly down Dania’s low cut tank. He didn’t seem to care about her pregnant belly jutting out from beneath her shirt.

  My friend looked up and saw me, her face lighting up. She was already wasted. That was the only time she seemed genuinely happy to see me.

  “There you are! You ready to go?” she squealed. Shane removed his eyes from Dania’s boobs and attached them to mine. My chest had always been a magnet for male attention, whether I wanted it or not. I hated my body. I hated the curves and definition to my hips. I hated that when I was younger, men had thought that because I had the body of a woman it was okay to treat me like one.

  “I’m really glad you’re coming, Ells,” Shane grinned. I barely nodded, already tapping my foot impatiently.

  “Can we get out of here? It smells like piss and arm pits,” I complained. I glared at Shane pointedly, only making him laugh.

  “Yeah, babe, let’s go,” Shane said, grabbing my hand. I wrenched out of his grip.

  “Look Shane, I’m not your babe. And if I see your eyes on my tits one more time, I’m going to rip your balls off and shove them up your nose. Got it?” I threatened, baring my teeth in an angry smile.

  Shane laughed again, though a little nervously. His wariness was warranted. I had earned it over the years.

  Dania leaned on Stu who steadied her. He barely looked at her, seeming bored by her endless chatter and attempts to touch him. I couldn’t understand my best friend’s obsession with him. He wasn’t even that good looking and his personality bordered on Jeffery Dahmer levels of creepy.

  I didn’t wait for the rest of my less than savory posse to follow me outside. I could hear Dania laughing and Shane’s snickers. This would take a while.

  And then I saw him.

  God he was everywhere.

  I couldn’t escape him.

  Flynn, with his hands characteristically shoved into the pockets of his khakis, was standing outside of the crummy art gallery down the street.

  Florence’s Portraits was a bit of a joke. Flo had moved to Wellsburg after her husband had retired three years ago and opened the gallery in an effort to try to inject some culture into the shoddy little town. It didn’t help that aside from the name, there absolutely no portraits sold in the dingy shop. Flo’s idea of art was second-rate knock offs of wildflowers and streams.

  I had never seen a single person step foot inside.

  But there was Flynn Hendrick, staring at the crappy pictures as if they were the most interesting things in the world. He had always been so focused like that. And I felt an uncomfortable twinge as I remembered how he’d pore over his notebooks, sketching in the corners.

  I had never let on that I watched him. But I had.

  A lot.

  Dania finally came out of Woolly’s with Stu and Shane. Her heavy form crashed into my back and I stumbled forward. She giggled and apologized and I cringed at the smell of alcohol on her breath.

  “Let’s walk this way,” I said, trying to steer my friends down the road in the opposite direction of Flynn. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want them to see him.

  “I’m parked back there,” Stu mumbled, jerking his thumb toward the parking lot on the other side of Florence’s Portraits.

  Well here we go.

  I grit my teeth and kept my eyes trained forward as we moved closer to where Flynn was still standing by the storefront window.

  Why did he have to be so weird? I thought angrily. Why did he have to stand there, staring at those stupid pictures and ruin my entire night?

  Why couldn’t he, just for once, be normal?

  Because Flynn Hendrick wasn’t normal.

  “Oh my god, Ells, do you know who that is?” Dania asked in an excited whisper, pointing at Flynn who was completely oblivious to our approach.

  I pulled her arm down and shushed her.

  Shane squinted in Flynn’s direction. “He looks familiar. How do I know that guy?” he asked, his words slurring from the three shots of Jose Cuervo he had consumed earlier.

  “That’s Freaky Flynn!” Dania hollered, her voice ringing in the air.

  “You’re right! It’s that weird dude from high school. Isn’t he the reason you went to juvie? The one whose…” Shane began just as my fist made contact with his gut. Hard.

  “Oomph,” Shane groaned.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I growled, not needing any reminders of that messed up nigh
t all those years ago.

  Flynn finally realized we were there. Dania yelling his name down the street was probably a big giveaway. He looked up and then promptly looked back down. And I was struck again by how little he had changed. Yet there were small differences that appeared to be for the better. If you could look past his awkwardness and general weirdness he was a good-looking guy. He had dark, messy hair, a long straight nose, and a dimple in the center of his chin. And I could never forget the clear, green eyes that were always trained on his feet. Eyes that would never make contact no matter how much you might want them to.

  Flynn’s shoulders came up as he tucked his chin into his chest. He looked as though he were trying to fold in on himself. A posture that was familiar and sad at the same time.

  He turned his back to us and started walking swiftly down the street.

  “Freaky Flynn!” Dania screamed, pulling away from my arm that was holding her up and tried to run after him.

  Flynn ignored her.

  “Dude, hang on a second!” Shane yelled.

  Flynn kept walking.

  “I think we need to teach this fucker some manners,” Stu muttered and I recognized the predatory light in his eyes. It was the same one I glimpsed every time he messed with people in high school. Those people primarily being Flynn Hendrick.

  We followed Flynn to the parking lot, Stu calling his name again.

  “Hold on, we just want to talk to you!” Stu said. Flynn fumbled with his car keys, keeping his eyes on his hands.

  Seeing him again, up close, was like being sucker punched in the jaw. It wasn’t pleasant.

  He stirred up memories I didn’t have time to think about. I didn’t have the emotional capacity to allow myself the pain and grief a normal person would have felt.

  Because you see, I wasn’t normal either.

  We were a perfect, messed up pair, Flynn and I.

  We always had been.

  Stu put his hand on Flynn’s car door, shutting it just as he was about to pull it open. It felt like we had been transported seven years in the past. The déjà vu was unreal. Here we were, cornering Freaky Flynn, like not a day had passed since we used to throw his book bag to the ground and ripped the pages from his notebooks.