Reclaiming the Sand

by A. Meredith Walters

  Barbara’s makeup was smearing under the layer of sweat on her face and I smirked as she tried to fix her sagging hair.

  “When will the place be available?” I asked, openly laughing at her pitiful attempts at straightening her appearance. “I think you’re starting to melt, sweetie,” I batted my eyes innocently and pointed to a glob of foundation that was running down her cheek.

  She huffed and pulled out a tissue from her pocket, blotting her face. “It won’t be ready for another month or two. The landlord has to do some work on the unit to get it up to code. But if you’re interested, I’ll tell him to put you on the list for consideration,” she said waspishly, obviously annoyed that I’d noticed her crappy makeup job.

  “That would be great. But put it under my name, Ellie McCallum. I’ll be the only one on the lease,” I told her with a glare, daring her to argue with me. I knew Dania’s credit was shot and while mine wasn’t great, it would at least pass the required check.

  “Fine. I’ll let him know. I have your phone number. So I’ll be in touch if I find anything else that suits your needs,” she said, already opening the door to herd us outside.

  Dania was still oohing and ahhing over the place and I was sick and tired of breathing the same air as Miss Makeup Impaired.

  Barbara didn’t even bother waving goodbye when we parted ways. Nasty bitch.

  “Let’s go get something to eat! I’m starving!” Dania said, rubbing her belly.

  I still had to finish my reading for tomorrow’s class and I was hoping to get a shower before my shift at JAC’s in a couple of hours, but Dania wasn’t one to recognize the word no.

  And given the state of her growing stomach, she couldn’t say no either, I thought hatefully.

  I parked back at my apartment and we walked over to Ma’s Diner, which was only a few blocks away. As we walked toward the parking lot, my stomach rumbled at the thought of Ma’s famous Key Lime Pie.

  I had been eating lunch there for most of my life. The little I could remember of my childhood hadn’t been pretty. But I could remember coming here for Sunday lunch after one of my foster families took me to church. And that was a memory that didn’t suck.

  I was probably eight or nine when I lived with the Owens’ family. They were an older couple. Their biological children had already grown up and moved out of the house.

  I hated being there. Mrs. Owens was a bible-thumping nut job and her husband had hands that he couldn’t keep to himself.

  The six months I stayed in their home are hazy at best, thank God. As with much of my past I had effectively shut down the pain and refused to think about it again. But I did remember the church.

  We spent four hours every Sunday listening to sermons. I had loved it because it kept me out of their house. It meant that for those four hours I could relax and not worry about Mr. Owens catching me in the bathroom or walking in while I was changing. I didn’t have to tiptoe on eggshells around Mrs. Owens else I be forced to kneel on birdseed as penance.

  And when church had finally finished and before my stomach would begin to curdle with anxiety at the thought of returning to their house, we’d go to Ma’s Diner. And I would be allowed to get a slice of Key Lime Pie that Ma made fresh every day.

  Dania and I slid into a booth near the back. I picked up the menu, my fingers sticking to the cracked protective plastic. I skimmed the items but it wasn’t necessary. I got the same thing every time I came here.

  “Can you take me over to the Family Planning Center tomorrow? They’re holding a car seat and crib for me that I need to pick up. My caseworker with Healthy Families said she’d get me a Wal-Mart gift card so I could get things for the baby’s room. I was thinking trucks or some shit.”

  I barely listened to Dania. I knew that her sudden burst of maternal interest wouldn’t last long. In the months since she discovered her pregnancy she had flip flopped between total denial of her condition to an excitement level typically reserved for five year olds on their birthdays.

  Despite her lip service about getting a crib and picking out drapes for the baby’s room, the truth was later tonight she’d be at Woolly’s getting drunk and taking some guy home to screw.

  I wasn’t one to judge anyone for their choices. Everyone had their reasons and motivations for the decisions they made. But as Dania grew larger it was becoming harder and harder to watch her screw up not only her life, but also the life of the tiny person she carried inside her.

  When the waitress came over, she gave us a small smile. I recognized her from high school. Her nametag said Emily. Though I couldn’t recall anything else about her.

  “Hi Ellie! Dania,” she said, pulling a pen from the top of the bun that secured her messy brown hair.

  Dania frowned, obviously not knowing who Emily was. “Yeah, well I’d like a cheeseburger and fries with a coke. Ellie will have a club sandwich and chips. And bring her a slice of Ma’s Key Lime Pie,” she said, giving me a smile.

  Sometimes she made it so easy to overlook the uglier parts of her personality.

  Emily wrote down our order and left, if not a little put out that we didn’t initiate conversation. Dania leaned over the table and dropped her voice into an intimate whisper.

  “Who the fuck was that and how did she know our names?”

  I smirked and shrugged. “She went to school with us I think, but hell if I remember her.”

  Dania smoothed her long black hair that hung limply around her shoulders. She still looked like crap. Pregnant women were supposed to glow. Dania most certainly was not glowing. Her light had gone out a long time ago.

  “So do you want to come with me to pick out some things for the baby’s room? We could also use the gift card to get some stuff for the apartment. Like a microwave or something,” Dania giggled and I tried to smile but my mouth stuck in a grimace.

  “Oh my god! There’s Freaky Flynn! I still can’t believe he moved back here!” Dania hissed and I looked over my shoulder to see Flynn come into the diner and head to the counter.

  He looked the same as the last time I saw him. I’m not sure why I expected him to look differently. It had only been a week but I felt like a lot had changed since then.

  The biggest being the realization that Flynn had no idea my part in the fire that killed his dog and burned down his house. The repressed guilt stuck in my throat and blossomed with a violent force in my gut.

  “Yep, there he is,” I said mildly, hoping Dania would let it go. Dania’s past cruelty towards Flynn rivaled my own. She had taken a lot of joy in torturing him. The fact that he was different made it all the easier for her to make his life miserable.

  And I had been right there beside her.

  But then, as if by chance, I had gotten to know him. It had started innocently in English class and had grown into a friendship that I hadn’t been expecting. But it hadn’t stopped my abuse. In some ways it made it worse.

  I had been able to compartmentalize my behavior back then. I had created all sorts of insane justifications to feel okay about the way I had treated him. This sad, lonely boy who had become my only real friend.

  But I had been weak and pathetic and unwilling to stand up to the people who tormented him, no matter how much I wanted to.

  And I had joined in. I had bruised and hurt him. Wounding him with maliciousness that he had never deserved.

  I had cared about Flynn. So much.

  It had scared me. I was terrified to feel anything for anyone. I had spent most of my life shutting everyone out. I hadn’t a defense against a quiet boy who was just as lost as I was. I had opened up.

  I had let him in.

  And then I had pushed him away in the only way I could.

  By destroying him.

  And in doing so I had destroyed a part of myself that had only started to flourish in the warmth of his affection.

  And these feelings hardened and solidified, freezing my heart and numbed me to everything. Then I had only survived. Only existed.

>   Until he had reappeared in my life.

  I had hated Flynn Hendrick for so damn long that I was almost hollow without it. My hatred had warmed me, kept me going. Even if it had been ill placed and unreasonable. But now, seeing him again, with the eyes of someone older and perhaps a bit wiser, I couldn’t hide behind illogical emotions.

  Things had started to change for me the minute he walked into JAC’s with his shuffling feet and awkward smile.

  “Look at him, Ells. He’s still so weird! Isn’t his brain messed up or something? Isn’t that what you told me?” Dania was gaping at Flynn like a fish.

  “He has Asperger’s, Dania. It’s not like he’s brain dead or something,” I said with irritation.

  Dania snorted and took a drink of her soda. “Well he acts brain dead. Look at him. He just acts like a freak.” Something lit up in Dania’s eyes that only meant trouble.

  “Maybe we should invite him over. I could use a good laugh,” Dania snickered.

  What the hell was wrong with her? We weren’t fifteen with ignorant youth as an excuse.

  “Just leave him alone, Dania,” I said harshly.

  Dania swatted the back of my hand and grinned. “Come on. It’ll be fun. Promise.” How many times had she said that before and we had ended up in the worst trouble imaginable?

  “Flynn!” Dania called out, waving her arm over her head, trying to get his attention. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t help it.

  Flynn glanced our way and caught sight of Dania flinging her hand about.

  He ignored her and I had to chuckle at my friend’s agitation.

  “He is so rude!” she complained.

  Before I could stop her, Dania was up and out of the booth, heading toward Flynn. I got to my feet and hurried behind her. The last thing I wanted was for her to cause a scene. She had a short fuse these days and Flynn and his perceived disrespect would definitely trigger it.

  “Freaky! It’s so good to see you again! Isn’t it, Ells?” Dania said, winking at me and biting her bottom lip so she wouldn’t laugh.

  I felt like I had jumped into a time machine and transported back seven years. Dania hadn’t matured much in the years since graduation. In fact, since her pregnancy, I felt as though she had backtracked to near infancy.

  She was playing schoolyard mind games and I didn’t want anything to do with it.

  “Come on Dania, Emily’s going to be bringing us our food soon,” I used my best no nonsense tone in hopes she would listen.

  “I just wanted to talk to Freaky Flynn. We used to be buddies right?” Dania slung her arm around Flynn’s waist and he stiffened instantly.

  “Don’t touch me,” he demanded, moving out of her hold.

  “Come on. I just want a friendly hug.” Dania reached for him again and he threw his arms out to stop her, knocking over a napkin dispenser, sending it crashing to the floor.

  The diner became deathly quiet. Everyone was watching their exchange with vivid interest.

  “Dania, enough!” I said, gritting my teeth. Flynn’s normally placid face looked almost panicked. He hated being touched. Everyone that had ever interacted with him knew that. And Dania most definitely knew that. What was she trying to do? This seemed so juvenile and beneath someone who was five months pregnant.

  “Come sit with us, Flynn. Let’s talk for a while,” she said, her voice smooth as honey.

  Flynn shook his head and took a step backwards.

  “You don’t like me. I don’t like you. I won’t sit with you,” he said firmly and I was sort of proud of him. He was standing up for himself in a way he never had as a teenager.

  Life had clearly taught him some harsh lessons. And I was sure that Dania and I had been his teachers.

  Dania frowned, taken aback by his blunt candor. She looked at me and I shrugged. Then she laughed, a high trilling sound.

  “Well you don’t need to be a dick about it,” she huffed. But I knew she wasn’t finished. Dania didn’t take rejection well. And she took public embarrassment even worse.

  “Hold on, you have a piece of lint,” she said and reached up to swipe her hands across his face in a long, exaggerated gesture. Flynn flipped out. He lunged backwards so quickly he tripped over his feet and crashed into a table behind him.

  There was a collective gasp but no one tried to help him. Dania cackled in delight, covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes bright with malicious glee. Flynn sat up, looking shaken. His eyes were wide and I could see his hands trembling.

  “Stop laughing at me!” he yelled, which only made Dania laugh louder. His face was flushed red and tears dripped down his cheeks.

  For a moment I stood there frozen. Once upon a time I would have egged Dania on. Adding to his abject humiliation.

  Not this time.

  “You heard him, Dania, shut the fuck up.” Without waiting for any more of her hate, I leaned down on my haunches in front of Flynn. I didn’t reach out a hand to help him up. I didn’t invade his personal space. I kept a healthy distance between us but I did meet his eyes.

  And he didn’t look away.

  “Are you all right?” I asked him, folding my arms over my knees as I regarded him.

  Flynn nodded and slowly got to his feet, brushing off his pants in rapid, frantic strokes.

  “I’ll clean it up. I’m sorry,” he told Emily, the waitress as he picked up napkins and silverware and placed them back on the table.

  And still no one said anything. They stared at him like he was an animal at the zoo and it was pissing me off. I knew what it felt like to be looked at and gossiped about. Our shared role as town outcasts had created an affinity between us long ago and I felt it again now.

  I heard the bell above the diner door ring and I glanced out the window to see Dania rushing down the sidewalk. I could tell by her hurried gait that she was fuming. I knew I’d pay for her public mortification later.

  I was the one with the attachment diagnosis. It claimed I possessed an inability to empathize with others. Yet it was times like this that I thought perhaps it was Dania who should have been given that particular label. Because she’d never understood how much her words and actions hurt others. She’d never been able to identify how harmful her behavior was.

  She was incapable of seeing it.

  But I saw it.

  “Let me help you,” I said softly, bending over to retrieve the menus scattered across the floor. Slowly the conversations around us resumed, though I still felt everyone’s eyes on us as we cleaned up.

  “She’s still mean,” Flynn muttered as he took the pile of menus that I handed him and placed them back on the table.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to defend her. It’s what I had always done. It’s what I did despite how often she didn’t deserve it.

  But what came out of my mouth wasn’t a vehement defense. It was sad agreement.

  “You’re right. She is.”

  Flynn nodded, straightening the knives and forks into perfect lines. I didn’t think anyone that worked at Ma’s took such care and attention to their tasks. When Flynn was finished it was the best laid table in the diner.

  “You’re food’s ready,” Emily said from behind the counter, pointing back to the booth where Dania and I had been sitting. I had lost my appetite.

  “Can I box it up to go?” I asked. I didn’t want to waste the food. A lifetime of scrimping and scavenging wouldn’t let me waste it. I pulled out my wallet and handed Emily some cash.

  “Sure,” Emily said, looking between Flynn and me. Flynn had now turned his obsessive attention to the napkin dispenser that he had knocked over earlier.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute,” she told him, eyeing him warily as though waiting for him to flip out again.

  Flynn ignored her and continued to straighten the napkins. He had withdrawn into himself. Something I had seen him do many times before. I recognized his focused intensity.

  “Hey, Flynn. You wanna get out of here?” I asked him quietly, keeping
my voice low.

  Flynn carried on as though he hadn’t heard me. I left him alone while I waited for my food to be brought over. I shot glares in the direction of the costumers who were still openly gawking.

  It was true he wasn’t doing himself any favors but their rudeness pricked my temper.

  “Here you go, Ellie,” Emily said, coming back with bags containing the discarded lunches. She turned to Flynn who had stopped sorting napkins and was now tapping his fingers on the counter.

  “Did you want to order anything?” she asked him, her lip curling in disgust at his behavior.

  “He’s fine. Thanks,” I told her sharply. Her eyes widened and she gave me a nervous smile.

  “Okay then. See ya around,” she replied hastily before scampering off to the other side of the diner.

  “Flynn let’s go. I’ve got plenty of food here. I hope you like cheeseburgers,” I said lightly.

  Surprisingly the sound of my voice snapped him out of it. He blinked a few times and then looked down at the bag of to-go boxes in my hand.

  “I love cheeseburgers,” he said and gave me a small smile before heading toward the door.

  I was left following after him, not entirely sure what the hell I was getting myself into.

  -Ellie-

  Flynn didn’t slow down and I had to jog to catch up with him. I was wheezing by the time he stopped next to a dark blue sedan. It looked a bit like a grandma mobile and I almost laughed when I saw him opening up the driver’s side door.

  “I’d like to go back to my house now. I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten since this morning,” Flynn told me, getting into the car, not waiting to see if I would agree.

  I guess I had told him he could have the cheeseburger…

  I looked around, almost trying to find one last reason to not get into the car.

  But watching Dania tear Flynn down had let loose something inside me and the floodgates, once they were opened, weren’t so easily closed.

  So I got into the old lady car. The interior was spotless. The leather seats crunched beneath me as I got situated. After he turned on the car, Flynn fiddled with the CD player and soon the strains of The Cure filled the car. I recognized the Wish album. I remembered Flynn had a Cure fixation back in high school. Obviously that was yet another thing that hadn’t changed.