she held his hand

she held his hand

His mother holding him by the hand, they walked together across the blistering asphalt summer sunned parking lot, between rows of Chevys and two toned Fords, their images steaming like a mirage before him. Barefoot, the young boy danced from yellow to yellow, landing like a cat on the painted lines, which offered cool respite from the black foot searing heat. His mom wore a bright yellow summer dress, with large lapels, and a hat to match. The yellow was dotted with large black polka dots, the newest trend of the day...

Making their way between  two large buildings the boy caught his first glimpse of the ocean, pure green with the bright summer sun shining through the water to the pure white sand beneath. People were coming and going out of the one large building to the right, they were going in fully clothed and coming out in their beach costumes and heading straight down to the white capped Gulf, now churning and heaving with waves rolling in to the beach.

The building on the left was huge to the boy, and running ahead he saw through the windows the large wooden floor, with a lit ball hanging above it. Surrounding the parquet floor were windows, tall and straight facing out towards the bathers and the water. He wondered what this large wooden floor would be used for? But pondering this question was brief, and the water gleaming called out for him.

He ran ahead of his mom all the way to the water, not paying any attention to her frantically calling his name. He stopped just short of the water's edge and noticed that the sand beneath the crystal clear water was ridged, and rippled, much the same way the waves looked as they traversed the open water. He wondered to himself if the waves on the water had caused the sand underneath to look so similar.

The gulls, buffeted by the wind, hovered above the pure white beach, and he watched as they would accelerate down and then up in a lilting acrobatic display of steady wings stretched tight. Their screeches of language called out to each other and to the boy, while the ocean exploded in white over the shallow sand bar, throwing itself high in the air, then pounding back down in a roared crescendo, almost, but not quite, drowning out the gull's voices.

The waves surged over his feet and up the inclined beach, dug out by the water, and then rushed back out to greet the next wave. This entirely fascinated him  and he found himself in reverie of sound and sight.

Just then, his mother came running up and grabbed his hand. Scolding him, he could barely  hear her muted syllables, his ears drowning in the sea of sounds that encircled him.  "Look at me!",she commanded, but it was too late, she had already lost him, and he turned back to the white green blown salt spray that matted his hair and combed his senses; the seduction was complete.

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A lifetime ago, or several lifetimes now, he stood in the same place, remembering the lady in her yellow polka dotted sun dress and the magnificent buildings that were to be no more (were they ever really there, or were they an illusion, a mirage of forgotten memory?), and turning, seduced one more time, by the rolling over fathoms down endlessly turning sea...he wondered aloud what was to be in Davy's deep dark locker, and who or what held that key?

surfnrg