Just Nice

Just Nice

Claire peered ahead, the turn-off was around here somewhere. It was difficult with no light.

‘Why on earth does he want to be here in winter?’ Her indulgences seemed silly now.

The sign was difficult to see, just a small one after a hump in the road. Her sharp braking roused Troy.

‘Where are we?’

‘At the beach honey.’

The bumps in the gravel woke him properly, in time to see snakes of pre-dawn light sneaking shadows through the world.

It was a ghostly walk to the water, their footsteps changing from a rough march on stones into pleasant scuffing in the loose sand close by the seas edge.

Dawn flashed by, a gesture not a vision this morning.

Barely denting the wet sand Troy stood waiting for a better sunrise, the initial one had disappointed him.

He sighed, then got a better thought.

‘There are definitely sharks out there mom.’ He pointed out to sea. ‘Its dawn, they feed at dawn you know.’

Claire swept the view, but saw no fins. ‘Sharks you say, no swimming then.’ She smiled at him. Troy put his hands in his hips, unsure.

‘Its winter, who’s going swimming? Look at the sea, it’s gone mad.’

This morning was the first time she had come in the winter with Troy. She didn’t particularly want to. It was a terrible morning as far as she could see. Gray and windy. Troy was right, the sea looked shitty. The fond summer memories paled in the face of the day here. She looked at him again, a staunch little boy confronted with a brand new ocean. He looked impressed.

There was so little time, maybe it was good.

A large set folded several times, and raced up the sand towards them. The beach was steep here, yet the sea still licked Troy’s boots. He jumped back, muttering.

‘Too late. It got me.’

‘Careful hon.’ She didn’t think he saw the danger.

Far away a sneak of sunshine scraped the sea briefly, making it sickly. The wind was rising and bits of spray were beginning to flick off the surface, messing the lines of swell.

Claire spoke. ‘Its just going to get worse I guess.’

‘What’s that mom? There’s a lot going on today. C’mon lets walk.’ Troy grabbed her coat. He tugged, not realizing she was still looking away. Troy had no idea what she was waiting for; he pulled again, leaning into the effort this time.

‘COME ON!’

Claire turned vaguely, making a large step. She was still somewhere else.

He was relying too much on her for balance and fell forward. Seizing a chance the wind gusted and rolled the boy, leaving him face up a meter or two away.

Claire watched detachedly for a second, seeing how easily he was blown about, it was surprising really. She forgot how small and young he was most of the time. She stepped quickly over, crouching to shelter the boy. He noticed she was trying not to laugh.

‘You tricked me mom, and the sand is salty and yuck, it stings my eyes.’ He spat some and more fell down his cheek.
Reaching to wipe his face Claire felt just how white and smooth it was. All traces of summer tan were gone now. He was the color of bone, so white and formed. He closed his eyes, satisfied she was there to help.

'It’s pretty good now the winds gone, try it.’

‘I’m not lying in the sand with you.’ She tucked a little hair under the beanie. ‘Get up before the sea takes you away.’

Could I save him if that happened? Claire stood and watched the swell humping along, an unorganized riot of flecks in the wind. There would be no stopping that it seemed. Troy would be a speck, churned out of vision; she would be helpless here.

'Get up! The tides coming in.’ She didn’t mean to snap.

Troy was up quickly, but he was cross, getting told off when it was her fault he fell. He stomped ahead quickly. Claire went to apologize, but the wind snapped away the words and spray rucked her eyes, making them water. Troy seemed to blur as she cleared them, fading into the surroundings. Wiping her eyes, Claire felt just how empty the air around her would be once he was gone. The hostile wind grated, flicking her hair around, putting lines across her vision. As if she was being slowly fenced away from him.

The efforts stopped suddenly, and everything cleared. Another piece of sun fell through a gap in the clouds illuminating where Troy was walking, he wasn’t far ahead. Clair began to walk. ‘I’ll catch up soon.’ Brushing her hair back she walked in his prints, enjoying the small steps, like perfect miniatures of her own.

He glanced back, seeing his mom rubbing her face. ‘She looks like she’s crying again. Must be the wind, its watering my eyes enough.’

He didn’t feel cross anymore, there was too much to look at. He wondered what it would be like to be here alone. Some gulls tore by overhead, the wind above making them go so fast. It would be all right as long as he stayed away from the sea. He felt like it was always trying to grab him. And earlier when he was too slow, it almost got him. Tugging at his boots it sucked, a toothless beast slurping. His mother right there and nothing she could do. It was up to him to be quick and strong on his own. He took bigger steps, walking tall. Steering just a little farther away from the sea’s constantly grasping white foam.

They walked a long way, Troy staying in the lead. The beach swirled around him, a huge whirlpool about its tiny vortex. Claire could see the clouds rolling overhead, gulls and shags heading inland, Troy at the center. Far out to sea the skyline merged into green gray muck with no separation.

She was glad to see him higher on the beach, picking his own line out of harms way. Sand dunes loomed on his right, an almost vertical bank there was no way to climb, those strange brown yellow plants clinging on somehow.

She began to wonder.

‘Does it all make sense to him? He’s so little, just a smudge in the world today. The world seems to focus on him. Including me. I wonder if I seem like just another piece of the world, pushing him this way and that. He tries to be independent, as much as a little boy can, but I can hardly let him out of my sight anymore, so much can go wrong.’

Her eyes followed his prints gently.
‘Hmmmm, there’s something funny about these footprints.’

She stopped to consider them. They were the wrong way around, but he hadn’t run past her.

‘He’s walking backwards the cheeky thing.’

She smiled and looked up, laughing at his fun. And saw nothing. He was gone.

The prints vanished into some receding sea, but there was no shape being rolled darkly in it. Claire ran, splashing in the foam, hoping desperately that it hadn’t happened so soon, so suddenly.

The prints began again on sand where the sea hadn’t reached. Claire didn’t pause but charged up the small rise, needing to see him. There was nothing but a large log, and two small boots pointing skyward. The heels were flat as a table. Claire ran and dropped to her knees, grabbing the ankles. She peered desperately over the log and boots.


Troy was lying in a small hollow, he felt comfortable despite falling backwards. The sand had been a soft landing, a small depression, just his size really. His hands were stuffed into the jacket pockets and the clouds ripped overhead looking remarkably like the sea swells. Too fast for any shapes to be sustained, he found this disappointing. But it passed the time while he waited for Claire. Some gulls paused in their speeding flight to guess what the fallen object might be, but the effort of circling was too much in the wind. The sea would be in to take it soon enough.

He didn’t hear her approach but her hands suddenly grasping his ankles felt good. Lying here had been a little too comfortable, sinking almost. She seemed to be holding him back from falling further in.

Another gull fought slowly over, deciding against ignoring them, screeching frustration and covering Claire’s concerned talk.

Troy closed his eyes and seemed to fall away from her into his thin white face. Her hands held tight onto the boots yet his thin legs seemed to shrink some more, becoming too small to hold.

He didn’t seem to be listening, a dark cloud overhead making where he lay even darker and deeper.

Words formed, concerned words about watching where he went and the like. Claire couldn’t hear what she was saying, automatic versions of warnings falling past her lips. New thoughts tumbled into her head, fears flying in a moment of weakness.

‘He’s gone. Falling away faster than I can let go. I’m holding on for no reason, its just bones now.’

She felt hopeless, and there was nothing she could do. He was white and skinny because he was dying. And he didn’t even know. How could she explain? Would it make sense? There was no way it could make sense to him. He couldn’t even put the world into one picture, how could he understand that he wouldn’t be part of it much more.

She stopped talking, drained inside.

Troy opened his eyes, his urge to rest subsiding. Her hands around his ankles felt good and secure.

‘Lie down mom, it feels like you’re part of the beach. It’s all quiet and peaceful here.’

His chin pointed at the sky. A white arrow making her gaze fly up to the boiling clouds.

‘See there. Just mad. Like the sea. Crazy. It makes my eyes feel funny.’ Troy gestured, his little bone fingers seemed to scratch the sky.

Claire looked even further up, directly above. The beach faded away, even the noise going. Swirling crowded her vision, there was nothing to focus on. Immense changing shapes expanded and folded, gray over grayer, layer and layer. Meshing, mixing. She felt a bit sick.

Holding his ankles wasn’t enough. He wouldn’t hold her up. She turned to sit on the log, still looking up, and slowly slumped to lie next to him.
Troy felt her lie down, joining him in his hole. There was no wind there, just a cozy quiet place. Warmth spread through him, stomach outwards. He needed no one else to feel safe.

Eyes closing in contentment he whispered. ‘It feels like we’re not here.’

Claire heard his voice, felt him next to her, a small presence of security clinging on to her side. She closed her eyes and faded thoughts stopped drifting.

She muttered, ‘We’ll just lie here a bit, in this peaceful place out of the storm. It’s strange how nice it is.’



At dusk the day had calmed considerably. Overhead the dispersed clouds lazed back out to sea, no longer the same as their liquid mother. Crisp blue waves held up against the wind and broke in a uniform fashion along the sand banks. The feathery white lip racing the gulls now out to play and fish.

High up the beach white sand slowly fell into the vague depressions beside a log, filling them, a trickle at a time.



In a house far away Claire tucked an exhausted Troy into bed, he was frail, and joyfully tired.

‘Night my boy.’ Claire smiled and kissed his head.

Sleepily and contentedly Troy said goodbye.

Out at a beach a laughing boy danced on the sand. He wasn’t sure why, but anything seemed possible suddenly. The blue sea licked happily at his legs but he wasn’t sinking any more. Looking around he saw how everything clicked together. The sun didn’t seem to be moving, but it wouldn’t matter. He felt like a long walk.