He had always been infatuated with the ocean. Something about the complexity of it all. The swirling water builds up all of this momentum before it crashes.Yet as that broken water begins to pull back into the depths of the tide, the sand seems to forgive it for the mayhem it caused just seconds before. And that happens over and over. Whether the tourists are watching, a hurricane breaks, or the world ends. Those two will be there, wrestling over the border between land and surf.
He grew up 562 steps from the North Carolina shore. 562 steps away from the most complicated relationship there is. The sand and the sea, tortured lovers, never able to part.
Every morning he would wake up as the sun rose and sneak out of his first floor window. In his pajamas, he’d walk the 562 steps to the edge of the water. He’d lay down with just his tippy toes touching the foam and wait. He’d wait until the water lapped over his face. As soon as it covered his blond hair completely, he’d get up and walk the 562 steps home, soaking wet.
His parents never noticed and neither did anyone else. From the outside looking in, The Browns were the perfect family. His older sister was the captain of the volleyball team and his parents were real estate agents. He was smart and well liked. Yet every morning, he waited for the tide to capture him.
He liked to count his breaths. To see how long it took before water filled his mouth. He liked the taste of salt and the feeling of the sand scraping his cheeks. He liked the way the water washed into his palms and the way his hair moved. More than anything, he liked the days where he could see his breath. When the water was so cold it was paralyzing. When the world stopped.
He started going on his tenth birthday. He didn’t have a plan. He just wanted an adventure to prove he was finally grown up. He had run down the road until his feet hit the sand. The sand was cold but the air was warm. He walked down to the water and looked across the beach. The only person he saw was so far away they looked like a blip on the screen.
He squatted in the breakline and stuck his hands into the sand and waited for the tide to pull out. He felt the tickle of the ghost crabs on his skin but when he pulled his hands out of the sand, they were gone.
His dad had told him about ghost crabs. He’d told him that ghost crabs burrow themselves beneath the surface of the sand. They hide there all day and only crawl out when the sun goes down. He’d shown him how to feel for them beneath the sand while they get pulled up by the tide. He’d asked his dad why he could never catch them. His father had told him, that was the fun of it all. You can feel them but you’ll never know if they are truly there. He shrugged and thought to himself, it must be nice to be invisible.