The Others
Jacob set off on the murky beach after his 10 minute stretch, his thoughts like an empty hourglass, the sky slowly changing before his eyes: plum, violet, crimson, indigo. His feet crushed the soft, wet sand beneath his body, the sand running out around the edges, leaving footprints the way the flesh indents the skin, temporary. Jacob felt blue sea breakers wanting to grab the soles of his shoes, but he jogged out of reach, as he had every morning. Over the last two weeks this had been a small joy, this little game of jog-as-close-as-you-can, but today the waves felt menacing rather than playful, and so he stayed a few feet away. Jacob would have felt foolish, had he felt anything at all.
Jacob had jogged at Cocoa beach every morning, 6am sharp, since he had flown down to say good-bye to his dying father two weeks ago. He peppered his run with a few long leg stretches against the wooden peer, against the thick September heat, and looked out across the empty coastline this morning. The breakers rushed unseen in a dim roar, sending drifts of cool spray onto Jacob’s face. He pictured his kindly father, still asleep, pain meds working their soothing magic for another hour or so. He pictured his grieving, drunken step-mother Jean, under the cool air conditioner, under the flower petal comforter. He winced as the plum sky sank into an equally plum ocean, indistinguishable from the drafty chasm that stood between his grief and his routine. He felt pain in his calves, a little sore, he thought, but that was good. Jacob had always relished his morning jogs, he had, in fact, never missed a day in fifteen years.
He ran up the coast for a mile before he saw anything other than gulls and sand and rushes of water dimly lit. He liked the smells and sounds of early dawn, the solitude, the glorious nothing. Approaching him from ahead were a group of men, about his father’s age. As they neared, Jacob noticed their matching gray sweaters and took them for one of those Florida beach walking groups. His dad had come here to walk, Jacob remembered, before he got sick. Jacob stopped to breathe in the salty air, bent over to check his blood pressure, his t-shirt hanging limply from his neck. The cool ocean air was a relief. His muscles felt sore as he watched the orange ball at the horizon peeking up from the crimson sea. The line separating the sky from the ocean had dawned in distinction. Jacob felt the day descending.
The walking group neared. They were fat and skinny and tall and short as they swung their arms like marionettes. He could see visors and pedometers and ancient skin. Another twenty years, Jacob thought, panting. He could here their chattering to one another as they came nearer, particularly the two who stopped to sip their bottled waters under the lone palm tree.
“Oh, Marty and the kids are coming up next weekend, and boy has Martha packed the refrigerator. You’d think a heard of buffalo were coming to dinner! But it sure will be nice to see Katie and Frank, hmm mmm.”
“You know, I heard on the news, well, what was it last week? I think it was last week…”
Jacob smiled at the two men under the palm, and then saddened. He felt a pang in his left calf, and jogged in place to stretch out the cramp. The rest of the Florida walkers had carried on down the beach. Jacob checked his watch, deciding it was time to head back toward his rental car, when the short one under the palm called out over the breaks, “Say, young man, have you got the time?” Jacob checked his watch again as he strolled over, not wanting to stop his legs.
“Quarter till seven.” Jacob tried to add smile. It came out ok he felt.
“Oooh. I better get back, Phil” he said to his friend. “Lawyers coming over this mornin, some last minute things to go over in my will.”
“Oh yes, I got mine all tied up now. Me and Donna are just waiting for the end,” the tall one said, smiling, his eyes like two sparkling sapphires in the sand. “I just know I can do it though. You know, take it all in when I die. I’ve been practicing for years, how to expand my soul and all that.”
“Yeyus, yeyus. Me and Angela too. They say the trick is to go with it, to take in the radiant abyss, the seamless All of the universe. Become One. And then keep going. Must be scary to fly over Mount Everest, dip into the Grand Canyon,” he said thoughtfully. “ But when you get there, Bob, it’s just love…you tell Donna not to be scared. She knows love…” The tall one smiled knowingly. “What’ya say I race you Bob old buddy?” In a slow, expanded gait, the two began to amble down the beach, shoulders slumped, their ankles large, black socks up to the shins. Jacob had been jogging in place, unable to take his eyes off the pair. It was the easy way they had talked about death that held him, that and the sapphire eyes that had gave the impression of oceans of time behind folded skin.
“Thanks for the time, son,” the short one called back. “You wanna walk with us, it may be time, it may be time.” They did not look back.
Jacob blinked. A swirl of seagulls passed excitedly before him overhead. The waves curled out in a loud swoooosh. Jacob jogged up to the old men. “What was that?” The short one looked up at him and smiled.
“I said thank you for the time son.”
Jacob jogged passed the old men, their visors blue, their laborious bodies shifting over the dry sand. He found his spot close to the incoming water, and ran the length back to his car. The sun had risen and the water gleamed under its auburn gaze. Jacob ran with ease, and felt the peculiar lack of burden. He danced closer and closer toward the water, feeling the morning breeze rush against his hot skin.
Jacob turned as he approached the pier, hoping to glimpse the old men between puffed breaths. He watched with amazement as they waved at him, all of them, from afar. Jacob smiled, a real smile this time, and laughed blissfully for the first time in months, maybe years. Jacob held his father’s hand for hours when he got home, and at exactly a quarter till seven, his father died.
Jacob set off on the murky beach after his 10 minute stretch, his thoughts like an empty hourglass, the sky slowly changing before his eyes: plum, violet, crimson, indigo. His feet crushed the soft, wet sand beneath his body, the sand running out around the edges, leaving footprints the way the flesh indents the skin, temporary. Jacob felt blue sea breakers wanting to grab the soles of his shoes, but he jogged out of reach, as he had every morning. Over the last two weeks this had been a small joy, this little game of jog-as-close-as-you-can, but today the waves felt menacing rather than playful, and so he stayed a few feet away. Jacob would have felt foolish, had he felt anything at all.
Jacob had jogged at Cocoa beach every morning, 6am sharp, since he had flown down to say good-bye to his dying father two weeks ago. He peppered his run with a few long leg stretches against the wooden peer, against the thick September heat, and looked out across the empty coastline this morning. The breakers rushed unseen in a dim roar, sending drifts of cool spray onto Jacob’s face. He pictured his kindly father, still asleep, pain meds working their soothing magic for another hour or so. He pictured his grieving, drunken step-mother Jean, under the cool air conditioner, under the flower petal comforter. He winced as the plum sky sank into an equally plum ocean, indistinguishable from the drafty chasm that stood between his grief and his routine. He felt pain in his calves, a little sore, he thought, but that was good. Jacob had always relished his morning jogs, he had, in fact, never missed a day in fifteen years.
He ran up the coast for a mile before he saw anything other than gulls and sand and rushes of water dimly lit. He liked the smells and sounds of early dawn, the solitude, the glorious nothing. Approaching him from ahead were a group of men, about his father’s age. As they neared, Jacob noticed their matching gray sweaters and took them for one of those Florida beach walking groups. His dad had come here to walk, Jacob remembered, before he got sick. Jacob stopped to breathe in the salty air, bent over to check his blood pressure, his t-shirt hanging limply from his neck. The cool ocean air was a relief. His muscles felt sore as he watched the orange ball at the horizon peeking up from the crimson sea. The line separating the sky from the ocean had dawned in distinction. Jacob felt the day descending.
The walking group neared. They were fat and skinny and tall and short as they swung their arms like marionettes. He could see visors and pedometers and ancient skin. Another twenty years, Jacob thought, panting. He could here their chattering to one another as they came nearer, particularly the two who stopped to sip their bottled waters under the lone palm tree.
“Oh, Marty and the kids are coming up next weekend, and boy has Martha packed the refrigerator. You’d think a heard of buffalo were coming to dinner! But it sure will be nice to see Katie and Frank, hmm mmm.”
“You know, I heard on the news, well, what was it last week? I think it was last week…”
Jacob smiled at the two men under the palm, and then saddened. He felt a pang in his left calf, and jogged in place to stretch out the cramp. The rest of the Florida walkers had carried on down the beach. Jacob checked his watch, deciding it was time to head back toward his rental car, when the short one under the palm called out over the breaks, “Say, young man, have you got the time?” Jacob checked his watch again as he strolled over, not wanting to stop his legs.
“Quarter till seven.” Jacob tried to add smile. It came out ok he felt.
“Oooh. I better get back, Phil” he said to his friend. “Lawyers coming over this mornin, some last minute things to go over in my will.”
“Oh yes, I got mine all tied up now. Me and Donna are just waiting for the end,” the tall one said, smiling, his eyes like two sparkling sapphires in the sand. “I just know I can do it though. You know, take it all in when I die. I’ve been practicing for years, how to expand my soul and all that.”
“Yeyus, yeyus. Me and Angela too. They say the trick is to go with it, to take in the radiant abyss, the seamless All of the universe. Become One. And then keep going. Must be scary to fly over Mount Everest, dip into the Grand Canyon,” he said thoughtfully. “ But when you get there, Bob, it’s just love…you tell Donna not to be scared. She knows love…” The tall one smiled knowingly. “What’ya say I race you Bob old buddy?” In a slow, expanded gait, the two began to amble down the beach, shoulders slumped, their ankles large, black socks up to the shins. Jacob had been jogging in place, unable to take his eyes off the pair. It was the easy way they had talked about death that held him, that and the sapphire eyes that had gave the impression of oceans of time behind folded skin.
“Thanks for the time, son,” the short one called back. “You wanna walk with us, it may be time, it may be time.” They did not look back.
Jacob blinked. A swirl of seagulls passed excitedly before him overhead. The waves curled out in a loud swoooosh. Jacob jogged up to the old men. “What was that?” The short one looked up at him and smiled.
“I said thank you for the time son.”
Jacob jogged passed the old men, their visors blue, their laborious bodies shifting over the dry sand. He found his spot close to the incoming water, and ran the length back to his car. The sun had risen and the water gleamed under its auburn gaze. Jacob ran with ease, and felt the peculiar lack of burden. He danced closer and closer toward the water, feeling the morning breeze rush against his hot skin.
Jacob turned as he approached the pier, hoping to glimpse the old men between puffed breaths. He watched with amazement as they waved at him, all of them, from afar. Jacob smiled, a real smile this time, and laughed blissfully for the first time in months, maybe years. Jacob held his father’s hand for hours when he got home, and at exactly a quarter till seven, his father died.
1 comment:
I missed this one earlier. I like the touches of syncronicity.
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