Parts of Two Nights Long Since Past that I have been Trying to Work into a Story

Lonely and quiet the darkened beach road winds down the coast towards the ocean. Dunes lie to the left, just beyond them the waves are rolling in again and again. With the pickup truck’s windows rolled down the sound of the surf can be heard over the engine. Glancing out of the open window on the driver’s side, thin wisps of foam can be seen dancing and scattering on the dark water as the waves rise and fall. The cream, almost yellow colored foam is like an ethereal water snake barely caught by the eye in a glimpse illuminated by the moon’s light. You only see the waves along those stretches when the dunes part. The surf you see is the Atlantic. In North America the direction in which the ocean lies should tell you the road you are on is heading south.

Late, late summer night moving into early morning with a full moon hanging clear, there is no haze tonight. On an evening like this the dunes are more a moonscape than something of this earthly world. It should be hot and muggy but it isn't. Being on this thin strip of land with water so close on either side the wind no matter which direction it blows cools the evening quickly. There is dampness in the air, you never escape that hear along the beach, but it is not oppressive. You begin to hum a country song sort of. It is new country that is closer to folk rock than to Merle Haggard. “I rely upon the moon; I rely upon the moon and Saint Christopher.” A couple of choruses find their way out and then you grow quiet. Your head is pounding and your eyes burn.

For whatever reasons the developers and other rapists of the good lands have not found this place. Maybe they just can't figure out how to stabilize this place. Speculators and would be land barons don't give a rat's ass for safety or the environment. There must be an honest to God engineering problem or there would be condos up and down this blacktop.

If you were in a mood to think you would have to wonder why anybody even pushed this two lane (sort of) road all the way out here. Some roads like this exist because they used to run down to a ferry, not this one. It is and has always been a dead end. The route is a hell of a long drive to come out to a ramshackle fishing pier.

At the base of the pier is a little seafood diner populated by a bunch of gnarled old people. They themselves don’t give much of a rat's ass about who you are and why you are here. With the burdens of all the infirmities that age imposes upon them, while they stare at you when you get out of this old truck, they really don’t care much at all about you and your business. Sometimes you want it that way. This however is their social time. Early predawn breakfast and fishing done before noon is what they do to stay connected.

You can smell the coffee that is brewing inside. The odor of coffee mixes with the salt air and the smell of dune grass. If your stomach wasn’t so wrecked that smell of java would seem like aromatic heroin. You would have to have some.

Why the Sam Hell did you drive all the way out here? Couldn't be for the cuisine, there isn't any really to speak of. When the Sea Shanty or whatever the name of this place is opens up it’ll have hash browns, eggs, bacon, white toast and coffee and that is about it. They might have oatmeal for the health conscious (not really). It is just for the old-timers who have been told give up the grease or die.

You won’t be going in except maybe to get some something to drink. Even if you didn’t fell like crap there sitting on the front seat of the pickup is that homemade sort of Egg McMuffin thing you made. Only the egg is fried and has lots of grease congealing on it. Instead of back bacon you threw shaved deli ham you had in the fridge on it. The bread is store bought bogus white and the cheese is from a gigundo pack you bought at Sam's.

When you were putting the sandwich together you had wished you had had some of the bacon left over from last week, also from Sam's. That stuff is a veritable plank of dead pig. When frying up it smell's about as smoky as a fire along the coastal forest. Egg McMuffin, nayh, this is an Egg McNuthin”. But the Egg McNuthin’s is not calling to you just yet now is it?

Okay so you aren't here for the food? Why then did you drive all this way to be here at this point? Answers aren’t always clear or easy. Sometimes you drive and drive not to get somewhere but to be as far away from somewhere as you can be. Sometimes when you wake up in the backyard happy that some snakes didn't get you and happier still (well more relieved than happy) that you didn't die in your own vomit because there were copious splashes of that around you as you rose up. Yeah making that Egg McNuthin” made more sense way earlier in the evening and most of a pint of JD ago.

Nope you got your dew drenched hungover ass up and fled the scene because you just wanted to be as far away as you can be. Sometimes it is just better to be gone than to actually go back into the house and see the carnage of the night before. Sometime it is best not to answer voice mail or check your messages because you really, really don't want to know who you told to suck what. Don't check out those texted photos either. You were not a pretty sight wearing just a football helmet, your jockey shorts and a happy face spray painted on your bare belly.

Most likely when you got in the car you were still DUI but with the hour it took to get out here you might be under the legal limit. Luckily on this beach road there are damn few things to hit. Your biggest risks are going off into the sand or being hit by a clam dropped a seagull trying to break it open on the road surface.

Maybe taking a few hours here on the beach will help you. If you go into the Sea Shanty you can get a large Pepsi Cola with lots of ice. Then you can walk down the beach about as far as your legs will carry you away from any other human face. You can back up onto the edge of the dunes and wait for the morning to break through; it really won’t be long now. As you watch the sun come up maybe you can come up with a plan. A beach sunrise has always helped you before. It light has always been a clarifying wash for your troubled soul.

As the sun comes up you can chug that carbonated brown sugar water beside you. Maybe it will replenish all those acids and electrolytes that your stomach spread on the lawn last night. Maybe it will simply quell your stomach’s roiling. As the warm of the sun begins to grow you can sweat out the last of the JD from your pores. Good thing you’re wearing an old cotton shirt to soak up that stink. By 10 a.m. maybe you will have a plan. Remember to take your shades the beach gets real bright by mid-morning. Your old ball cap might help too.