"Laughing Gulls" by Laura DeGrave

Laughing Gulls

by Laura DeGrave  

 

Warming rays fanned over the windshield wipers’ worn tracks. Sherbet-colored skies enticed my wanderlust, the closer I reached the shore. The water played peekaboo with tall grass that grew near the roadside. 

     I chose The Point due to its shelling reputation. Being a remote housing community, it was more likely to be less picked over. I was on the hunt for a Junonia, spiraled in shape with brown cheetah spots. Today could prove my lucky day.

     Half past seven, I pulled my old pickup into a small lot of 10 spaces. A local tag adorned the only other vehicle present. The brisk, late Spring breeze tickled my nose before sneezing.

     Hmm … better grab my hoodie.

     I yanked out an old reliable from behind the seat, slid it on over my head, and onto my torso. A faded karate studio logo could still be seen. It depicted a side kicking stick figure next to the school's acronym. I grabbed the newly bought mesh bag for beach combing and began the six block winding trek around a myriad of houses on stilts. 

     They were odd to look at. Like a Jenga game gone unfinished. On one corner, I heard the Coast Guard men sounding off their exercises. My feet were heated by the time I reached the sandy pathway. A droning, slapping sound greeted my ears. 

     Not much farther.

     I advanced further, spying private boardwalks branched over the hillsides and down to the beach. My footing became more uneven in the shifting sand. A family of four enjoyed a kite flying picnic, ahead of me. The children splashed in and out of the rolling foam while gusts of wind lifted their vibrant puppets. One kite resembled a butterfly, trailing duel tails. The other, a mythical Chinese dragon, boasting a beard full of streamers. 

     My eyes trailed the incoming waves backward, against the blurring horizon. White birds fluttered like moths. They were pinned above a dark mass. The currents slowly directed a U.F.O. (Unidentified Floating Object) our way.

     A whale, perhaps?

     I ambled closer, stepping on the beach’s necklace made of broken bits of shells. The compact, sodden sand steadied my stance. Chilly saltwater licked grit from my toes.

     “Mommy! Look, Mommy! Birds!” The children left their kites to crash upon the water.

     Their mother shooed them away with her sunbonnet. “Yes, yes! Go, play!”

     They returned to the ebbing water to watch their father. The young man grabbed two handfuls of plastic, lifting the kites from the ocean's teasing game.

     “Daddy! Daddy! Behind you,” the boy shouted. 

     “Shark! Shark,” screamed the little girl.

     Their father turned around to find thatthe dark mass had crept upon him. He dropped the kites and high-kneed himself, quickly as the chest deep water permitted, back to his family on the beach.

     His wife shot up off her tanning blanket and raced over to their children. “What is it, Felix?” She asked, after he stumbled out of the water.

     “I don't know,” he answered between gasps.

     The U.F.O. drifted nearer on each pulse from the ocean's heartbeat. I wandered over to the family, dropping my bag in a trance. My only thought was to see the unknown. 

     The young mother wrapped a protective barrier of arms around her children's shoulders. “Felix, we need to go, now.”

     Felix looked back into his wife's strained expression. “Start picking up. I'm right behind you.”

     “Can I stay?” The boy pleaded.

     “Me, too!” chimed in the little girl.

     The young mother appeared helpless in the fray. “Felix?”

     His eyes, as were my own, glued to the U.F.O. “Be good. Help, Mommy. We'll get ice cream.”

     The promise of frozen treats excited the children. They hurriedly ran to gather their scattered toys.

     “Felix?” The young woman stood behind us. “Are you going to get the car?”

     “I want to see what this thing is. You can get it.”

     “The children–”

     He abruptly turned to face her. “Oh, alright! I'll get the car.” Felix jogged toward the houses.

      I briefly nodded my head in greeting toward her and she left without a word to tend to her children. 

     Some folks are more cautious than others.

     My gaze revisited the dark mass. It had quadrupled in size. Nothing came to mind in comparison.

     How does one know what's hidden beneath the crashing waves?

      I looked back over my shoulder and saw she had her arms loaded with towels and blankets. “Need a hand?” I hollered at her.

      “No! My husband will get the ice chest!” Her attention drew to the access pathway. A car motor rumbled from the road. Felix came over the hillside, red with sweat. She trudged up to meet him. The children followed behind her, dragging their packs in the sand.

     “Felix! The ice chest, please,” his wife begged.

     The U.F.O. stalled in the lacey crests of surf. I was mesmerized by its gelatinous texture.

     That's right! I'm the first to touch this creature.

     It felt firm, yet yielding, similar to the inside of my cheek. A splash alerted me. Felix made his way beside me. 

     “What is it?” he asked.

     His wife and children screamed for him. We both turned toward his troubled family. They were surrounded. Blue-uniformed men stormed the beach. A great thumping overhead came from a MH-65 Dolphin. Several small cutters whirred into view.

     An amplified voice commanded our obedience. “No one leaves the beach!”

     Sirens blaring on top multiple unmarked black vans plowed tracks in the sand. Men in hazmat suits filed out.

     A man dropped down behind us from the helicopter. “Move!”

     My body shivered into action, partly from the cold and partly due to sheer fear.

     “Are they going to shoot?”

     I lowered my gaze and marched to shore with Felix.

     There it is! My Junonia!

     The perfect shell whirled on the rising tide.

     Almost … Can I pick it up?

     My fingers itched for the crowning conquest. Laughing gulls danced among the ocean's debris.