Ocean City
1/1
The Sun was setting, the evening sky was alight with its goodnight kisses, bright and orange and beautiful. The clouds cast their shadows on each other as they slowly drift across the Sun’s caress. But the crowd didn’t notice the approaching night and didn’t stop to say goodbye to the Sun, lampposts lit up to ensure that no one would take notice of the dusk. I watched the people walking next to each other and around each other and through each other all the way down the boardwalk. They were having too much fun to care, adults sat on benches and socialized while their children played games and ordered seafood and sweet things. God bless them, they should be having fun, they were on vacation after all.
Ocean City, Maryland, a tourist hive. My family came here once, many summers ago, and I can recall being one of the children trying to toss a ring onto a bottle or looking through the many gift shops. These families were here now, having the same experience that I had.
But one man seemed determined to break the mood. He sat brooding on a bench separated from the crowd. Though I don’t think he was trying to ruin everyone else’s time, if he was, he wasn’t succeeding. I was the only person who noticed him, simply because I knew he was there, hovering on the edge of the warm beach like a sea monster waiting for prey. Although, I was over thinking this, my vivid imagination fabricating stories, even though I knew the truth. He had a different look about him, a different aura around his brooding bench. He wasn’t imposing any ill will on anyone, he was too busy with the lamentation in himself.
Why was he at a tourist hotspot alone, desperately wanting nothing more than but to leave, but sitting here anyway? I can tell you that, dear reader. I dragged him along, not with much difficulty mind you, he’s quite a masochist. And why am I here alone as well? Well, we were passing through and I couldn’t ignore the chance to visit the site of one of my fondest childhood memories. Though nostalgia makes me sad, I miss being young and having it easy, I still feel happy while I have it.
I sighed as I stared across at him, he was a child here once as well. I remember how he envisioned it in his head. Wondrous. he loved the beach quite a bit. One day, on a day like today, when he was all grown up, he was going to bring a girl here and try to share his childish awe with her. He didn’t meet the girl yet, Hell, maybe he never will.
But I could see it in his head, with enough detail that it could have been my own fantasy. He was going to walk down the boardwalk, holding her hand. He would smile as she laughed at the seagulls, handing them a french fry or two. Together they would ride all of the rides, all of his and her favorites. They would have sat down at one of the round tables, underneath one of the bright, red umbrellas and they’d eat the greasy fair food. He would’ve gotten a coke while she splurged and ordered a smoothie, then they would have continued down the boardwalk, looking through the gift shops.
Then as the sun started to set, just as it was setting now, they would have made their way to the beach, which would be becoming quiet and empty by this time, all of the parents took their tired and sunburnt and cranky children back to the hotel. She would frolic in the shallow saltwater, he would walk along the edge, looking for seashells for her and listening to the soothing breath of the ocean. He would abandon his search after a while and settle for just watching her have fun from the beach. She would somehow manage to get him to join her, and together they would’ve played in the waves, floating up and down, up and down. Eventually, the lifeguard would force them to get out and they’d leave the beach, soaking wet and laughing. They would stay at the boardwalk all night, well for as long as they could, sitting on a bench together and watching their fellow tourists leave. It would become quiet and lonely. It would become one of the best memories he would’ve ever had.
Sadly, that was far from the truth. He didn’t have a faceless girl with an empty hand waiting for him. He didn’t have anyone to sit under an umbrella and eat greasy fair food with. He didn’t have anyone to walk along the beach with or collect seashells for. The lifeguard would never have to chase him away, because he would be long gone before the beach was closed off. And maybe it was my fault that he was so damn alone and unhappy here.
I decided that this was enough, he had suffered enough at the hand of his self pity, it was time to leave Ocean City once again. We walked with each other out to the parking lot, the noises of the crowd still faded from our ears the exact same way that it had before. We came to our own car, a car that we had to drive now instead of sleeping in the back seat. Together, his hand over mine, or my hand over his, I’m not quite sure, we opened the car door and both of us sat in each others seat. With a turn of the key, the engine cut off the sounds of the happily wholesome crowd and the snoring, sleepy ocean. By the time the sun wakes up the drowsy beach with a quick kiss or pat on the back, by the time the boardwalk braces itself for another day of being walked upon, we’ll already be home.
Maybe the next time we come back we’ll have a girl to hold hands with
Ocean City, Maryland, a tourist hive. My family came here once, many summers ago, and I can recall being one of the children trying to toss a ring onto a bottle or looking through the many gift shops. These families were here now, having the same experience that I had.
But one man seemed determined to break the mood. He sat brooding on a bench separated from the crowd. Though I don’t think he was trying to ruin everyone else’s time, if he was, he wasn’t succeeding. I was the only person who noticed him, simply because I knew he was there, hovering on the edge of the warm beach like a sea monster waiting for prey. Although, I was over thinking this, my vivid imagination fabricating stories, even though I knew the truth. He had a different look about him, a different aura around his brooding bench. He wasn’t imposing any ill will on anyone, he was too busy with the lamentation in himself.
Why was he at a tourist hotspot alone, desperately wanting nothing more than but to leave, but sitting here anyway? I can tell you that, dear reader. I dragged him along, not with much difficulty mind you, he’s quite a masochist. And why am I here alone as well? Well, we were passing through and I couldn’t ignore the chance to visit the site of one of my fondest childhood memories. Though nostalgia makes me sad, I miss being young and having it easy, I still feel happy while I have it.
I sighed as I stared across at him, he was a child here once as well. I remember how he envisioned it in his head. Wondrous. he loved the beach quite a bit. One day, on a day like today, when he was all grown up, he was going to bring a girl here and try to share his childish awe with her. He didn’t meet the girl yet, Hell, maybe he never will.
But I could see it in his head, with enough detail that it could have been my own fantasy. He was going to walk down the boardwalk, holding her hand. He would smile as she laughed at the seagulls, handing them a french fry or two. Together they would ride all of the rides, all of his and her favorites. They would have sat down at one of the round tables, underneath one of the bright, red umbrellas and they’d eat the greasy fair food. He would’ve gotten a coke while she splurged and ordered a smoothie, then they would have continued down the boardwalk, looking through the gift shops.
Then as the sun started to set, just as it was setting now, they would have made their way to the beach, which would be becoming quiet and empty by this time, all of the parents took their tired and sunburnt and cranky children back to the hotel. She would frolic in the shallow saltwater, he would walk along the edge, looking for seashells for her and listening to the soothing breath of the ocean. He would abandon his search after a while and settle for just watching her have fun from the beach. She would somehow manage to get him to join her, and together they would’ve played in the waves, floating up and down, up and down. Eventually, the lifeguard would force them to get out and they’d leave the beach, soaking wet and laughing. They would stay at the boardwalk all night, well for as long as they could, sitting on a bench together and watching their fellow tourists leave. It would become quiet and lonely. It would become one of the best memories he would’ve ever had.
Sadly, that was far from the truth. He didn’t have a faceless girl with an empty hand waiting for him. He didn’t have anyone to sit under an umbrella and eat greasy fair food with. He didn’t have anyone to walk along the beach with or collect seashells for. The lifeguard would never have to chase him away, because he would be long gone before the beach was closed off. And maybe it was my fault that he was so damn alone and unhappy here.
I decided that this was enough, he had suffered enough at the hand of his self pity, it was time to leave Ocean City once again. We walked with each other out to the parking lot, the noises of the crowd still faded from our ears the exact same way that it had before. We came to our own car, a car that we had to drive now instead of sleeping in the back seat. Together, his hand over mine, or my hand over his, I’m not quite sure, we opened the car door and both of us sat in each others seat. With a turn of the key, the engine cut off the sounds of the happily wholesome crowd and the snoring, sleepy ocean. By the time the sun wakes up the drowsy beach with a quick kiss or pat on the back, by the time the boardwalk braces itself for another day of being walked upon, we’ll already be home.
Maybe the next time we come back we’ll have a girl to hold hands with