The Beach House

by Chloe Young

  Not Horace though. Horace never left the beach; it was his permanent home regardless of the season, weather threats, or tourists. He had stayed in the very same little shack, not far from the pier, for the past thirty years. He had inherited it from his parents, and he never saw a reason to leave. That may have had to do with the fact that he had no money or any possessions that really mattered. He may have been the bum of the family, but that didn’t bother him one bit at all.

  All he had left was his little beach shack and Max. He wasn’t sure how long either of those would last now. Max was well past his prime at 18 years old. He barked at anything and everything even though Horace wasn’t sure that his eyesight and hearing were good enough to detect intruders. That’s why he didn’t pay Max no mind. Figured he would let him live out his last couple of years doing as he pleases. Maybe after Max passed, he would have a reason to leave this shit hole. Sure, thirty years ago it had made for a great vacation spot. It was furnished with a couch, bed, television, and radio. It had a kitchen suitable for cooking and storing food. Now it looked as if it should be condemned. The kitchen smelled terribly of old fish that Horace had probably caught at some point and left in various locations. Horace didn’t care for cleaning and the house certainly was in need of a good cleaning. Even the exterior of the house was falling apart. That’s what thirty years of enduring storms and winds without any upkeep will do to a place.

  Horace had seen a lot on this beach in thirty years. If he knew how to write well, he could have probably compiled a book of stories. He’d witnessed crimes, mostly robberies and guys that were a little too aggressive with their lady friends. But he’d seen worse. Especially at nighttime when people thought the world was blind to their actions. He figured it wasn’t his business to interject. After all, no one ever paid any mind to him.

  Max’s barking became more and more furious. Horace gave one final yawn and stretch. He found his old bathrobe and tied it around his thin waste. He gave a quick glance in the mirror. He was definitely in need of a good shave. Aside from all of the scruff, his eyes looked tired and his disheveled hair was matted against his forehead.

  “This better be good Max”, shouted Horace from his bedroom.

  Just as he approached the front door, Max stopped barking and began to whimper.

  “There’s nothing out there you dumb dog.”

  Well, Horace was up now whether he wanted to be or not. He figured if he was up, he might as well clean himself up and venture out. Who knows what might be waiting for him out there.

  CHAPTER 5

  There was a loud crash from upstairs followed by an onset of cursing and grunts. Susan couldn’t help but roll her eyes; she knew Clint had most likely knocked over a glass or some knick knack from one of the upstairs’ tables. He had been having a hard time getting around of late. Doctors just chalked it up to old age, but she knew there was more to it than that. She knew that a broken heart, never to be healed, had a lot to do with her husband’s deteriorating physical health.

  His mental health seemed to be just fine; had the memory of a twenty year old as far as she was concerned. Maybe that was the cruelest part of it all. He could recall every moment of that morning when they frantically searched for their youngest son; the tears, the screams, the panic, all of it. Every moment.

  She remembered the call from the sheriff two days after he had gone missing. She couldn’t recall every single word but she remembered the just of it. Not Clint though, he could probably recount the entire conversation word for word. In the end it didn’t matter – Joseph had washed up on shore. They had to identify the body. She couldn’t stand to remember her son that way. He had so much potential, he would have really been something.

  She knew she had to focus on the positive memories, the fun family times they had shared. How many times had her and Clint watched old home movies and looked through book after book of family pictures? Clint would probably know, but she had lost track long ago.

  It was hardest to look through the album of pictures taken at the beach house. They had made so many great memories there, but that was the place where her life ended in an emotional sense. She had never been able to face life with the same passion and conviction after the accident. That’s how the sheriff referred to it any way. Susan never quite understood how a boy of that intelligence would not understand the danger he was facing with those overwhelming waves and the strong current. It never did add up to her.

  That wasn’t even the strangest part. Damon seemed to act as if life could go on normally. How could it? Then Damon just became so distant. She barely even knew him anymore. In a sense, both of her sons had been taken from her that day.

  She and Clint had decided they could not go back to the beach house; it was just too painful. At the same time, they were unwilling to part with it. How could they allow another family to stay there and make their own, happy memories in their summer home? If they couldn’t be happy there, then no one else should be either.

  A part of Susan wanted to go back to the beach house one final time. It was a place that both Joseph and Damon had loved so much. Looking out over the vast ocean and shore line brings a certain peace that cannot be achieved anywhere else. Maybe one last trip would bring some closure to the tragedy. Maybe she would know that her son is at peace and that would allow her soul to be at peace. They would have to make the trip back to the beach soon before Clint was no longer physically able to make the trip.

  She could hear Clint making his way down the stairs one creaky step at a time.

  “How you feeling, honey?” Susan called up him as he came down the final few steps.

  “Just broke another glass. Been feeling a little shaky today.”

  Clint gazed upon his wife who was wearing a look of concern. He hated that she had to worry about him. She had had enough to worry about in her life. In some ways, she looked youthful for her age. She still had dark hair that framed her face in a very flattering manner. Her blue eyes penetrated her pale skin. However, there was an obvious look of utter weariness and hardship that aged her beyond her years. She did not smile enough, and he missed seeing that sparkle in her eyes. He had such fond memories of their years together. He couldn’t stand what they had become.

  Susan knew her husband well enough to know when he was feeling heartbroken. “Maybe we need a little vacation. Get away from here for a couple of days.”

  “What did you have in mind?” her husband asked.

  Susan smiled at her husband, something he treasured when he saw it as it didn’t come as often any more. They had been through so much together. So many good times that were clouded by such tragedy. “I’d like to go back to the beach house one final time.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Damon pulled into the gas station with the radio blaring AC/DC’s “For Those About to Rock”. Mark wondered if he could try any harder. What in the world did Kristi see in this guy anyway?

  “I’m going to fill the Jeep up. Anyone want anything from inside?” Damon asked.

  The thought of mood made Kristi’s stomach grumble quietly. “I’m going to go in and grab a snack and a diet coke. Megan, come in with me”.

  Megan looked over at Mark, “Be right back. Want anything?”

  Mark shook his head, “Just to get the fuck out of this shithole and to the beach, babe”.

  Megan and Kristi rolled their eyes and walked from the Jeep to the convenience store located about ten yards in front of them. Mark couldn’t help but watch Kristi as she walked into the store, purposefully toying with him. That’s alright, he would be sure to get some alone time with her later.

  Damon smirked as he looked over at Mark who seemed to be eyeing something that didn’t belong to him.

  “You like what you see, pal?” Damon asked.

  “What the fuck are you talking about, Damon. Just pump the damn gas so we can get out of here.”

  Damon continued to smile, “this is going to be a great weekend, man. I’m really looking forward to i
t”.

  ***

  Megan and Kristi walked into the convenience store. Kristi wasn’t expecting it to be immaculate, but sanitary would have been nice.

  The guy behind the counter called out, “Welcome, ladies. Let me know if I can be of any help to you.”

  Megan whispered, “Think it’s safe to use the bathroom? I’m about to find out. Grab me some chips or something”.

  Kristi watched Megan enter the bathroom. She had never been more thankful in her entire life that she didn’t have to pee. She wasn’t feeling quite as brave as her friend.

  As soon as she started to walk down the aisle of assorted snacks and junk food, the guy from behind the counter approached her from the other end of the aisle. If he was any indication of the sanitary standards of this establishment, then she was afraid to see what Megan was experiencing in the bathroom.

  He looked like he hadn’t showered in a week, and not in the hot, grungy kind of way. His hair was matted down against his forehead and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in days either. He was wearing the store shirt which had large stains spread all over it. His name badge read “Cliff”. That made sense to Kristi; he certainly looked like a Cliff. She wanted to turn away and leave this damn place, but she was thirsty and really wanted that soda.

  “Sure I can’t help you with anything, beautiful?” Cliff asked as he approached her.

  “I’m just trying to grab a few things so that I can get out of here” Kristi replied.

  What the hell was taking Megan so long anyway? She was hoping Cliff would step aside and allow her to pass, but he didn’t. She made one more attempt to walk past him, but he stubbornly remained in the center of the aisle.

  “Excuse me, I really need to just get these items. My boyfriend is waiting for me outside.”

  “Your boyfriend is one lucky guy. I’ll step aside, no problem.”

  As Cliff moved against the left side of the aisle, Kristi quickly brushed past him and continued onto the chips at the end by the freezers. Then she felt someone standing right behind her and felt a hand groping her ass.

  Her scream sent Megan rushing from the bathroom as well as Damon and Mark hauling ass from out by the gas pumps.

  “What the hell happened?” Damon called out.

  “This guy is a fucking pervert. That’s what happened.”

  Cliff protested, “I don’t know what she’s talking about. I was just trying to help the lady find some snacks.”

  “Like hell you were. You don’t need your hand on my ass to provide customer service.”

  Damon could feel the anger swelling up inside of him. He had no tolerance for people who made his life difficult or unpleasant.

  “Mark, take Megan and Kristi out to the Jeep. I need to talk to Cliff and pay for this shit”.

  Mark wanted to beat the guy’s ass for touching his girl, but knew he couldn’t let his emotions get too out of control. He reluctantly took Megan and Kristi by the arm and led them out to the parking lot.

  Damon starred at Cliff whose lip began to quiver. “You got a problem keeping your hands to yourself, Cliff?”

  “No, dude. Really I didn’t mean any harm. It was a total accident.” Cliff replied, his eyes beginning to well up.

  Damon looked unimpressed by his show of remorse. “Yeah, I can totally see how extending your hand and grabbing my girlfriend’s ass could be a mistake.”

  Damon quickly surveyed the interior of the store. He doubted that a place this crappy would possess a surveillance system. Sure enough there were no cameras in this back area of the store, just one up front by the register.

  He walked up to Cliff. “I’ll tell you what, pal. I will cut you a break because you look like a good kid who made a mistake.”

  “Yes, I am a good kid. I’m sorry, so sorry”.

  Cliff really had not meant any harm. It was just so rare that a beautiful woman walked into the roadside establishment. He didn’t think about the trouble it may cause. However, he was looking in the eyes of an apparent crazy man who was possessed by some bout of anger. He had never wanted a customer to leave so badly in his eighteen months on the job.

  Damon patted Cliff on the shoulder, a slight smirk showing on his face. Cliff felt quite relieved. It wasn’t often that attractive women came through the store, and he just couldn’t restrain himself. He knew that he shouldn’t have touched her, but the temptation had been too strong.

  Damon reached his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. As Cliff was turning away, Damon pulled out a knife. He grasped Cliff by the shoulder and spun him around. As the knife flipped open, it pierced Cliff in the chest. The attendant let out a loud gasp, stunned by what had just taken place.

  Damon twisted the knife, his face completely expressionless. As Cliff fell to the ground, Damon pulled the knife from his body. The blood dripped onto the floor of the store. He grabbed a handful of napkins which were sitting by the coffeepots. He wiped the knife off, disposing of the napkins in the trashcan. Then he wrapped the knife up carefully and put it in the front pocket of his jeans.

  He stood above Cliff, watching him take in his last few breaths. Cliff’s death was completely unnecessary, but he had gotten in the way of his plans.

  With the knife securely in his pocket, he grabbed a couple of sodas, a bag of chips, and a candy bar. It was time to get to the beach house.

  CHAPTER 7

  Mark, Megan, and Kristi sat in the Jeep waiting for Damon to come out of the small convenience shop.

  Mark was finding it more and more difficult to suppress his feelings of impatience and frustration. “What the hell is he doing in there anyway?”

  Megan could see the look of guilt on Kristi’s face. “You okay?”

  Kristi forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just wish Damon would hurry up. I didn’t want to get that Cliff guy in trouble. Damon can let his anger get the better of him at times; just has me a bit worried.”

  Although Mark was tired of waiting, he was angrier at himself for not confronting that stupid kid in the shop. He wanted to be the guy who took care of Kristi, but he knew this had not been the right place to display that kind of heroism. It would have ruined their weekend if he had come to her defense in front of Megan and Damon. He really could have cared less about Damon’s feelings, but Megan was a different story. Although he didn’t have the same passion towards Megan as he did Kristi, he still cared about her. She was a good girl, and he didn’t want to hurt her in front of everyone.

  Kristi continued to stare into the small store. However, she couldn’t make out anything that was happening inside. The sun cast a terrible glare against the front windows of the store. Just as she contemplated going back into the shop to check on the situation, Kristi saw Damon exiting the store. “Never mind. He’s coming out now. Thank god!”

  Damon walked quickly from the front of the shop to the Jeep not making eye contact with any of his so called friends who were waiting for him. As he got into the Jeep, he threw the bags of chips, candy bars, and sodas in the center console.

  Mark looked at the stockpile of food and drinks. “You fucking rob the place or something?”

  Damon let out a small snicker. “Cliff told me to take some supplies for our trip, no charge. Since he was such a perv, his way to make up for it I guess. So eat up, there’s plenty. And no more damn stops on the way.”

  With that, the Jeep pulled out of the gas station and headed for beautiful weather, stretches of sand, and the endless ocean.

  CHAPTER 8

  Max was not a dog who liked to go for walks. In fact, he would lie stubbornly in one spot for the entire day if Horace allowed it. Horace, however, did not allow it. Every morning it was the same routine. He would coerce Max to get up from his spot with some sort of a dog treat or bone; the old boy still had to eat. Then he would leash up poor Max and take him for his daily morning walk. The way Horace saw it, he was doing Max a favor.

  Horace remembered when Max was a young pup; he would take in all of the sounds and sights
as they jogged up and down the beach. It was almost over stimulating for him; the kids running and playing in the water, families having picnics and barbecues, games of volleyball, and lovely ladies working on their tans. Nowadays, Max barely noticed there were other people on the beach. Despite his reluctance to sniff and explore, Horace stopped every now and then and encouraged Max to take in his environment.

  The beach, after all, was a rather interesting place. Sure Horace could live in a neighborhood next to the same people who would exchange the same pleasantries day after day with him. Not here though. Horace was able to interact with different people every morning as he walked his beloved friend. Not a single day was like any other he had experienced before. He had no idea what this day had in store for him, but he sure was looking forward to it.

  ***