Reclaiming the Sand(56)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

I was feeling pretty buoyant by the time I was finished. Cathy, the CE Coordinator had been really nice and given me a bunch of brochures to look at.

I found Flynn exactly where I expected him to be. He was bent over a mound of clay in the empty art studio. It was perfectly silent except for the punctuated sounds of his tools as he dropped them on the table before picking up another one.

I wasn’t exactly quiet when I entered the room but Flynn didn’t look up. I wasn’t surprised. He would disappear into whatever he was working on.

I came up behind him and looked over his shoulder and frowned at what I was seeing.

He was molding a miniature Mount Rushmore. I recognized the faces of the presidents as he scrapped and carved into the clay.

“What’s that for?” I asked, sitting down beside him on the bench, careful to give him enough space to work.

Flynn still didn’t work up. He wiped away some of the excess clay and picked up another glob and mashed it to the creation in his hand. Smoothing and rubbing it into shape.

“I sell these,” he said, squinting at the piece of art he was making.

“Really. Just the Mount Rushmores?” I asked him.

He shook his head as he put down the tool in his hand and picked up a small, sharp bladed knife. “I like to make pyramids and Big Bens and The Great Wall of China and Machu Picchu. I find them in books then make them. Then I sell them. My mom helped me set it up. I make a lot of money,” he said succinctly.

I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it.

Flynn frowned. “Stop laughing at me!” he commanded.

I stifled my giggles, knowing how he was interpreting it.

“I’m not laughing at you, Flynn,” I explained.

“You’re laughing. I don’t like it. Stop it,” he said flatly.

“No, I promise. It’s just that I buy these,” I said, pointing at the Mount Rushmore in his hands.

He finally looked up at me.

“You buy my statues?” he asked, looking back at his tiny creation.

“Yeah. I’ve been buying them for over a year now. I have a lot of them. They’re amazing!” I enthused; a little shocked by yet another strange twist of fate.

The universe had been working overtime in throwing us together.

“And you like them?” he asked shyly, resuming his work.

I watched him as he molded the clay until he was happy with the product.

“I love them, Flynn. They’re beautiful. They’re all the places I want to go some day. Maybe we could see them together,” I suggested softly. This was the first time I had been direct in my wishes for our future together.

Flynn was quiet. Not saying a word. He got up and walked over to the kiln, opening the door and putting the sculpture inside.

He closed the door and walked back to the table.

“I want to go to the beach,” he said without preamble.

What?

“You want to go to the beach?” I asked, not sure where this was coming from.

“After my house burned down, my mom and I moved to North Carolina. She took me to see the ocean. I hated it. I hated the sand. I didn’t like the way it felt between my toes. She tried to get me into the water but it was too loud,” he said.

It was my turn to be confused.

“And you want to go again? It doesn’t sound like a very good experience,” I commented.

“Have you ever seen the ocean?” he asked me.

“No. I’ve never left West Virginia,” I confessed.

“I want to see the ocean with you, Ellie.” He spoke without leaving room for argument.

“But it’s loud and the sand gets between your toes,” I reasoned. I didn’t want him to go somewhere he’d be miserable. I knew Flynn well enough by now to know that if he hated it, it would be horrible for him. I didn’t want that…for either of us.

“I want to see the ocean. We’re going,” he stated, cleaning up his workstation.

“Okay then. When are we going?” I asked him, more than a little amused by the way he was taking control. I wasn’t used to this side of him and I kind of liked it.

“It’s two days until Saturday. We can stay for two nights,” he declared and I nodded.

“In two days then. I suppose we’d better figure out where we’re going,” I said, helping him put away his sculpting tools.

“In two days we can go to the beach and see the ocean. We’ll walk on the sand and I won’t cry this time when it gets between my toes,” Flynn smiled.

I laughed.

“You’re not laughing at me this time,” he said, seeming proud of himself for knowing the difference.

“No, I’m not laughing at you. I’m happy. Sometimes you laugh because you feel good,” I explained.

“Going to the beach makes you feel good?” he asked.

“Going anywhere with you makes me feel amazing,” I said.

23

-Ellie-

We found a hotel on the ocean near Sandbridge Beach, Virginia. It would take us over five hours to get there but Flynn had already started mapping out our journey. He had calculated the mileage and the rest stops along the way.

He planned our vacation completely, down to the colors of the shirts he was going to bring and the types of socks that were the most comfortable for the long car ride.

It was hard to tell if he was looking forward to the trip or not. I was excited. I was beyond ecstatic to be going. I had always dreamed of seeing the ocean. Of digging my toes in sun warmed sand and splashing in the waves. I wasn’t sure how much sea and sand Flynn would actually be up for but I was excited all the same.

I was in town loading up on supplies for our trip when I ran into Reggie. I hadn’t seen anyone from my old group in weeks. Even when I had my shifts at JAC’s no one came in like they normally did. I stopped going by Woolly’s and I didn’t take the occasional drive down to the river where I knew people liked to hang out.

In truth it was pretty sad that once I had stepped away from my old world, not a single person reached out to see where I had gone.

I had made it a point over the years to keep my friendships superficial. Even with Dania, there was only so much I allowed them to see; only so far I’d let them in. Not that they cared.

And that had worked for me. For a long time I was quite content with my seclusion. But now that I had Flynn in my life I realized how lonely I had truly been. How isolated I had allowed myself to be. I had existed, not lived, and there was a very big difference between the two.

Reggie and I had never been close by any means. She was a hanger on. Someone the rest of us tolerated because of what she could do for us. Her dad was a pharmacist and in high school her proximity to prescription meds had come in handy. The guys liked her because she had big boobs and zero inhibitions. She thought nothing of giving a blowjob or spreading her legs so long as they got her drunk first.