Reclaiming the Sand

by A. Meredith Walters

  “Here!” Reggie shoved a shot glass in my hand. Normally I would down it without a second thought. But I wasn’t in the mood to party. I was feeling edgy and I didn’t think alcohol would help with the situation.

  Reggie stumbled off and soon I was absorbed into the party.

  It was soon pretty apparent that these get-togethers weren’t nearly as fun while sober. Danielle Davis, a girl who had graduated a year ahead of me was throwing up off the balcony. Shane was playing sexual predator with a girl who looked like she was barely out of high school.

  I hadn’t seen Dania yet, not that I was making a huge effort to find her.

  I deposited the still full shot glass on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen, hoping I’d find my best friend. Instead I was met by a group of tweaked out jackassess snorting crushed up pills off the phone book.

  How many times had I seen this and it had never fazed me? Often I had joined in. Now, I curled my lip and retreated into the living room, disgusted.

  I was surrounded by people I couldn’t stand.

  I headed toward Dania’s bathroom. I wanted a few minutes to myself. I needed to think of an excuse to leave. Something that I wouldn’t get crap for later.

  But I opened the door to find Dania fucking Stu on top of the toilet. Her pregnant belly bulged outward while Stu groped her tits.

  “Shit, I’m sorry,” I said holding my hand up so I could shield my eyes. I’d need to bleach my brain later.

  Dania rolled her head to the side to find me trying to back out the door without throwing up.

  “Ells!” she shrieked, her eyes unfocused, her speech slurred. She climbed off Stu’s lap and ran over, throwing her arms around me. She seemed unconcerned by the fact that she was completely naked.

  “Fucking hell, Dania!” Stu yelled. He started stroking his dick while I was standing there. “Now, I’ve got take care of this myself,” he growled. Dania giggled.

  This was wrong. So very, very wrong.

  I pulled away from Dania and stumbled backwards. I needed to get out of there. I couldn’t do this.

  Not anymore.

  “Where are you going?” Dania asked, following me out into the living room.

  There was laughter and catcalls as she flashed the entire party. She put her hand on her hip and struck a pose. It was obscene.

  I stared hard at her stomach, thinking about the baby that lived in there. The baby she was hurting with her selfish behavior.

  She wasn’t thinking about the person she was supposed to protect. She was throwing away his life, just like her mother had done to her.

  And mine had done the day she had walked out and left me alone to fend for myself.

  In that moment I hated Dania.

  I really fucking hated her.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said and hurried back to the front door.

  I could hear Dania’s laughter as I fled.

  I slammed the door behind me and leaned back against it heavily. The vibrations of the music rattled my bones just as my thoughts rattled my brain.

  I had made a million excuses for Dania. For my friends. For the way we lived our lives.

  How could I do that? How could I stand there and say I don’t give a shit?

  I had been numb for so damn long.

  But every day, every hour, the deep emotional freeze was beginning to thaw.

  And it hurt.

  It was excruciating.

  But it made me feel strong.

  I gripped my keys in my hand and headed out to my car.

  I didn’t know where I was going but I knew where I wouldn’t be.

  And that was here. Stuck. Never changing.

  It was time to do something about it.

  -Ellie-

  I drove around for a while; thinking until I thought my head would explode. Somehow I had ended up parked at the bottom of a familiar graveled driveway. The night was noisy as I climbed out of my car.

  It was the early days of October and the heat of August and September was slowly slipping away. The night held the sounds of a dying summer.

  I closed the door to my car, the sound like a gunshot. I don’t know why I ended up here, only that I had nowhere else to go.

  And that had been what led me to him all those years ago.

  I walked up the worn path that cut through the trees. It looped around by a stream that edged the property. I had traversed these woods many times. I knew exactly where the road would lead me.

  I heard him before I saw him, my heart speeding up in my chest.

  I edged through the trees until I was at the bottom of his yard. I could make him out in the moonlight. I could hear his laughter and it made me smile.

  What was he doing?

  A huge figure barreled past me and I almost wet myself.

  “Come here, Murphy!” I heard Flynn call out and the furry creature trotted up the yard carrying a stick in his mouth.

  I stepped out into the open, barely able to believe what was right in front of me. My dog, my Murphy, was running as fast as his gangly doggie legs could carry him toward Flynn, who slapped his thighs, encouraging him to run faster.

  Murphy dropped the stick on the ground at Flynn’s feet. Flynn knelt beside the dog I loved and scratched his head, running his fingers through his fur. I could still hear him laughing, even though I couldn’t see his face in the darkness.

  I started walking toward them, barely able to breathe. Barely able to contain the tears that prickled behind my eyelids.

  As if sensing my presence, Murphy started running back down the hill, towards me. He jumped up, his paws landing on my stomach, just as he had done when I’d let him out of his cage at the shelter.

  He toppled me over backwards and I landed with a whoosh on my backside. Murphy’s tongue lapped my cheek, his hot doggie breath filling my nose.

  “Good boy,” I crooned, scratching underneath his chin just how I knew he liked it.

  “He likes you.” I looked over my shoulder to find Flynn approaching.

  I laughed as Murphy nudged my chin with the top of his head. I thought I’d never see him again. I had spent a better part of my day fixated on what had become of him. And here he was, with the one person I knew would love him as much as I did.

  “I can’t believe it was you that adopted him,” I said in between breathless giggles.

  “What?” Flynn asked, clearly confused.

  I got to my feet, Murphy pressed against my legs.

  “You got him from the shelter. I volunteer there. I’ve been taking care of Murphy since he was brought in over the summer,” I explained, still in disbelief that my dog was here. Only he wasn’t my dog anymore. He was Flynn’s dog. And that made me incredibly happy.

  “Do you want to play with us?” Flynn asked, smiling shyly. His innocent question was all it took to turn my night around.

  I had left Dania’s upset and conflicted.

  And I had found my way here.

  I had found my way home.

  I grabbed the ball from Flynn’s hand and tossed into the air before catching it. Murphy wagged his tail and reared up on his hind legs trying to take it from me.

  “Go long, Flynn!” I cried, winding back my arm to throw the bed.

  “Where am I going?” Flynn asked, jogging backwards.

  I chuckled, pointing to a spot on the other side of the yard that was visible in the spotlight shining from the porch.

  “Over there! I’m going to toss this to you. Murphy loves this game. When you catch it throw it right back,” I instructed, feeling an almost indescribable joy.

  “Okay. I’ll throw it back to you after I catch it,” Flynn confirmed, repeating back to me the directions I had just given him.

  “Right. Throw it back after you catch it.” I knew he needed the repetition to ensure he understood. Patience wasn’t my strong suit, yet with Flynn I found that I had it in spades. Anyone else I would have barked my orders and hurled insults if they didn’t get it. Anyone else and I
wouldn’t be bothering to play fetch in the dark.

  But this wasn’t anyone else.

  And experience had established that my usual just didn’t apply with Flynn.

  I threw the ball as fast as I could and watched as Murphy bounded after it. Flynn caught it and then fumbled, dropping it to the ground.

  “Get it, Flynn! Hurry!” I yelled, laughing as I watched him wrestle with the dog for the ball. But Murphy was tenacious and he was the one walking away victorious. He trotted up the hill and lay down beneath the old apple tree, gnawing on the ball. If dogs could smile, Murphy was grinning like a fool.

  “He’s strong,” Flynn grumbled, wiping canine salvia off his hands in the grass. He made a face and held his palms out away from his body. I pulled a tissue out of my back pocket and took one of his hands gently and slowly wiped his skin clean.

  He didn’t pull away. He stayed perfectly still until I was finished and had tucked the tissue back in my pocket.

  I was standing so close to him that I could smell the clean tang of his soap. I could see every strand of his thick, dark hair in the moonlight. The sloping curve of his lips and the dip of his neck where it met his shoulders beneath his long sleeved shirt.

  Flynn was looking at the ground, his hands now gripped in front of him in a tight knot. His chest was rising and falling rapidly but he wasn’t backing away.

  We were only a few inches apart. If I reached out I could wrap my arm around him. If I leaned in, I could kiss him. I could lay my head on his shoulder.

  I swallowed around the lump that had taken up residence in my throat. The air hummed with awareness. And I could tell by the tension in Flynn’s shoulders and the tightness in his jaw that he felt something too.

  And he still wasn’t moving…

  “Can we try that again? I won’t let him get the ball this time,” Flynn said suddenly, breaking our trance.

  I licked my dry lips and could only nod. Words had failed me.

  “Let me get it. No sense in getting your hands covered with dog drool again,” I said, giving him, what I hoped, was a convincing smile.

  Flynn peeked up at me through the long strands of his hair and returned my smile with a shaky one of his own.

  Something had happened in those few seconds that had changed everything.

  I just didn’t know what.

  I crept back over to Murphy who was now watching me warily as I approached. His tail started thumping the grass behind him, his large paws holding on to the ball in front of him.

  “Hey big boy,” I crooned, grinning as his tail started wagging wildly. I dropped down onto the ground beside him and scratched behind his ears. Out of all the dogs for Flynn to take home, he had adopted the one I loved the most. The one I had connected with in a way I had never been able to connect with another living thing. Except for Flynn.

  And now they were making a home together. They would keep each other company. They would love each other. And I wished like hell I could be a part of that. I wanted to be included in the tiny family Flynn had created by bringing Murphy here.

  There were those damn tears again. That smelly dog and frustrating man were reducing me to a sniveling mess.

  I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, wiping away the wetness that had escaped behind my eyelids, and grabbed the ball while Murphy was still enjoying his ear scratches.

  I jumped to my feet and ran. The huge beast lumbered after me, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

  “Over here, Ellie! I’ll catch it!” Flynn hollered, waving his arms over his head. I threw the ball in his direction.

  “In coming!” I screamed, doubling over in fits of laughter as Murphy took off after it, colliding with Flynn, sending them both to the ground.

  A few seconds later, Murphy trotted off, once again victorious.

  Flynn sat up and held his hands up in the air. “I give up. He’s too strong for me!”

  I joined him on the grass, the dirt cool beneath me. “Yeah, he’s one tough pooch,” I conceded, watching the dog in question with blatant affection.

  “That was fun,” Flynn grinned, slowly stretching his legs out in front of him but he was careful not to touch the grass. He folded his hands in his lap, looking rigid and uncomfortable.

  “Yeah it was. I needed that,” I said, my voice sounding loud all of a sudden. I cleared my throat and looked up toward the house. It was lit up like a Christmas tree. Lights were on in every window. It looked warm and inviting, just like it always had.

  Flynn fidgeted. I looked down at him and he was trying to situate himself so he could be more relaxed.

  “We don’t have to sit on the ground. You have some perfectly nice benches that we can use,” I told him.

  He shook his head. “No. Kevin says I should make myself experience new things. Things that I don’t like or that make me anxious.”

  I smirked. “And sitting on the ground is a new experience?” I scoffed.

  “I don’t like the feel of the grass. It’s rough. It’s itchy. I hate it,” he mumbled, rubbing his hands together.

  Sometimes I could almost forget that there was anything unusual about Flynn. He had obviously worked hard over the years to suppress his more troublesome traits. Sure he was still awkward and said things that the rest of the world would only think in their heads. But his honesty was refreshing. It was nice knowing where you stood with someone instead of constantly second-guessing.

  But then there times like this, when it was impossible to ignore how much he struggled in his day-to-day life. I was in awe of the man who was sat beside me, trying not to freak out because the grass was scratching his skin.

  I thought I had it tough. I had lived so long in my egocentric bubble that I had forgotten that there were other people in the world who fought battles a lot more brutal than mine.

  Flynn reminded me that fighting had to always be an option.

  “Can you lie back on the grass, Flynn?” I asked him. He looked at me like I was crazy.

  “There are bugs in the grass, Ellie. They’ll crawl in my hair. They can get in my ears.” He sounded as though he were on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.

  I needed to try this another way.

  I pointed upwards and tilted my head back. “Look up then,” I said in hushed tones.

  Flynn obeyed and tilted his head back.

  “What do you see?” I asked him.

  Flynn was quiet, his eyes trained on the sky above him. Finally he answered in an equally quiet voice.

  “I see the universe.”

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Flynn looked over at me and I met his eyes. And he held them. He didn’t look away. “Yes. It’s beautiful.”

  I felt myself flush. I cleared my throat. “Can I touch you?” I asked.

  Flynn was quiet for a long time and I didn’t think he was going to answer me. But finally he nodded. A slight incline of his head giving me permission.

  I gently placed my fingers on his chin, turning his face back up to the night sky. “If you watch long enough you’ll see a falling star. Have you ever seen a falling star before?”

  Flynn shook his head. “No. I haven’t,” he whispered.

  “Well, let’s look for one. They’re supposed to be good luck, you know. And I don’t know about you, but I could use a little luck in my life,” I mused.

  And we sat there, the night wrapping us in its safe and silent arms, watching the stars wink and shine above us. After a while, I reached over and took Flynn’s shoulders in my hands. “Keep watching the stars,” I murmured as I pulled him back onto the grass with me.

  He didn’t protest. His body tensed for a moment and I thought he’d sit back up. But after a few seconds, I felt him relax. I moved as close to him as I thought he’d allow. And we continued to watch the twinkling worlds in the sky.

  “I saw one!” Flynn gasped, pointing. I followed his finger but didn’t see it.

  “Looks like the good luck is all on you then,” I r
emarked lightly. Flynn’s hand clasped mine and I hissed in a breath as he brought it up to his lips. With an excruciating slowness he kissed my knuckles. His actions timid and unsure.

  My heart fluttered madly.

  “Is that okay?” he asked, his breath hot on my palm.

  “Yes,” I croaked.

  Flynn pressed his mouth to my hand again, this time a little harder and a little longer.

  “Your skin feels nice,” he said, my hand still touching his face.

  “Your lips feel nice on my skin,” I breathed.

  “I’ve never done this before,” he let out in a rush.

  I rolled my head to the side and watched him as he continued to watch the sky and kiss my hand. “You’ve never done what?”

  He carefully placed my hand on his chest. Over his heart. He turned his head to look at me. His green eyes dark in the shadows but as bright as the stars.

  “Kissed a girl. Touched a girl. I’ve never done anything,” he admitted and I was more than a little shocked. Sure he was different, but that didn’t change the fact that Flynn was beautiful. There had to have been a girl at college, somewhere, who could see the amazing man he was beneath his awkward exterior.

  “You’ve never kissed anyone? No one has ever touched you like this?” I asked, lifting my hand from his chest and lightly stroking my fingers down the length of his cheek.

  I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with the force of his swallow. I rested my hand at the hollow of his throat, feeling the frantic beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.

  “I don’t like people touching me. It makes me feel strange. I get nervous.”

  Was he telling me to stop?

  I started to lift my hand but he grabbed it with a sudden aggression that startled me. He gripped my hand tightly in his. He closed his eyes, frowning as though in pain.

  “I like it when you touch me,” he said in an agonized whisper.

  I wriggled my fingers free and brought them back to his face. “I’ll be careful Flynn. I promise.”

  I traced the curve of his lips and my breath became labored. How could just touching his mouth affect me so much?

  “I know you will, Ellie. I trust you.”