The Beach House (2 page)

Mark threw the last bag into h
is bright red Mustang. The flawless shine of his car proved how much it meant to him. Looking good was at the top of his priority list. He wanted to be noticed and felt like he deserved the attention. “Come on Megan, let’s go. Kristi and Damon are waiting for us.”

Mark really had no interest in seeing Damon or spending an entire weekend with him. He barely knew him even though Megan and Kristi had been best friends for years. Damon always struck him as an odd guy who really didn’t fit into their little social group.

Mark put the key in the ignition and turned it. As the engine revved, Megan appeared in the doorway. “Okay, I get it. You’re ready to go.”

She climbed into the passenger seat and put her over sized sunglasses over her eyes. Megan was pretty for sure, not the kind of girl Mark drooled over, but beautiful nonetheless. She had brown hair to her shoulders with bangs that swept over her left eye. Her green eyes popped through those dark strands of hair.

As much as Mark liked Megan, she was no Kristi. He had had a crush on Kristi since his sophomore year in high school. As a junior in college, he felt like the crush was pretty serious. And to be honest, it was a bit more than just a crush. Kristi and him liked to fool around whenever they could get away with it. But she saw Mark as the kind of guy who has sex with women no strings attached and not the kind of guy who could be relationship material.

He knew he was better looking than Damon. He worked out six days a week and had the muscles to show for it. He figured at some point he would make his move. This weekend at the beach house might give him the perfect opportunity.

Megan placed her hand on Mark’s thigh. “You looking forward to the weekend?”

He smiled at her. “Of course. I get to spend the weekend at the beach with my favorite girl. I just hope Damon doesn’t get too weird. The guy seems like a total oddball.”

She laughed. “He’s a little different. But remember, it is his beach house so you have to play nice.”

“I can play nice, don’t worry.”

Mark honked as he pulled up in Kristi’s driveway. Damon was already outside loading up his
army-green Jeep. Mark sized him up before getting out of his Mustang. Damon was wearing baggy jeans with a large hole in the right knee. His AC/DC shirt was ripped on the side and his hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in a couple of days. He had no idea what Kristi saw in the guy, perhaps it was a sense of danger or mystery. Damon’s past was a definite enigma; he never talked about his childhood, friends, or his family. He guessed girls liked that kind of thing, something they feel like they can sort out for him. Fix him in a way. Damon didn’t seem like the kind of guy who wanted to be fixed though.

“Hey, man. Ready for the weekend?” Damon called out to Mark.

“Got plenty of beer. Guess that’s really all we need”.

“Not the way Kristi packed. You’d think we were going away for a month” Damon replied.

Mark couldn’t help but wonder what little bikinis and sun dresses were packed away in her suitcase.

Just then Kristi came out and ran over to Megan who was still sitting in Mark’s Mustang.

Damon hopped into the driver’s seat. Kristi took her place in the passenger’s seat next to her man. That left Mark and Megan to occupy the backseats.

Damon turned up his favorite rock station and backed up out of the driveway. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to return to the beach house. It had been so long, but yet it had remained with him all of this time. He could still see the beach so vividly in his mind even after all of these years.

Mark called out from the back seat. “So you’re family use to vacation at this beach house?”

“Yes, every summer. It was just a place to get away for a week or so every year. Haven’t been there in awhile. I guess we kind of got tired of the same old thing.”

Megan asked, “How big is your family? Any siblings?”

“Nope. Just me and my parents. Maybe that’s why we stopped going to the beach. I got older and there wasn’t a need to bring their little boy to the beach anymore.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “That had to be kind of boring, growing up as the only child”.

“I loved it. I got all of the attention from my parents. A brother or sister would have probably gotten in the way.”

Joseph had gotten in the way, but Damon had taken care of it. Just like Mark might get in the way. He knew there was more to Mark and Kristi than a long standing friendship. It was obvious the way that he looked her over every chance he got. He couldn’t believe that Megan hadn’t noticed all of the secretive looks and glances. Maybe she did. Maybe she chose not to acknowledge them. That wasn’t Damon’s way though. He knew that Mark would eventually get in the way, and he would have to take care of him.

Damon glanced in the rearview mirror and considered what purpose Mark served in life. As far as he could tell, Mark did not contribute anything meaningful to life. He only cared about himself.

Mark caught Damon’s peering stare. “Can’t imagine growing up by myself. Still thing it must have gotten mighty lonely.”

Damon smiled, put his eyes back on the road, and continued to drive.

Horace awoke with a start after his old Bassett Hound, Max, started barking furiously. Stupid dog. Probably barking at some
dumb kids running up and down the beach. You’d think that damn dog would get use to that after a while especially once the warm weather returned and all of the tourists made their way back to the beach after a winter of huddling in the warmth of their own homes. Now they would all make their way back to the beach until summer’s abrupt end.

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.

There was a loud crash from upstairs followed by a
n 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.”