Hello To the Rest of my Life

I slowly traced my name in the sand. Around me I could hear the waves come to life from a night of dark calmness. 7 am, reading on Sunset Beach was never a place or time I expected I’d ever be.

I looked out onto the water and saw him swimming. Above him a plane painstakingly maneuvered its way to the runaway behind me. I braced myself for the sudden gush of wind that would follow its taxi. The sun streamed down on my shoulders as I sat daydreaming. I felt completely content… not a worry, not a care, not a reason to stress, perfect calm.

I watched the wind blow lightly over my name etched in sand and I began thinking back over the last few days.

I mapped a situation in my head that never unfolded. From the crazy little clues he kept leaving for me to the final invitation for lunch at the lighthouse, I began to imagine myself being pushed over the edge of the cliff by the swift fluid movement of his palm. Fear began to set in.

The ride to Grand Revere was full of laughter and singing, with moments of sudden fear as I swept my right eye over his face for signs of maniac depression or uni-bomber tendencies.

He wasn’t giving anything away.

We went on our merry way and landed in the middle of a little cottage surrounded by the perfect setting to hide a tiny Kerrie body deep in the sand for massive endangered turtles to gobble up.

I sat gingerly on the bed in the darkness watching him slowly pull things out of a cooler. Out came bread and cheese and grapes and chocolate. I began to feel like Gretel, about to be fattened before the kill. I nibbled my grapes and cheese, swished it down with a bottle of wine and willed myself to stay awake.

In a room washed over with candlelight, it is difficult to judge how crazy someone is. Candlelight hides every sin, every flaw, every feelings, creating the illusion of romance and a canvas that can only be painted with contentment.

I waited for morning to come.

Bathed in the sharp stormy light of the rain, the cottage seemed to hold on to secrets steadfastly and without clues. I began to get impatient now. I watched him unwrap is presents, acting the part of a sane human being like a veteran. An uneasy calm settled in my chest like day-old dasheen and sweet potato. We packed up and headed to the lighthouse. I mentally patted myself on my shoulder for eliminating two tones of coconut water from my diet that day as fear made my bladder unpredictably loopy.

“I need to change my shirt.”

“eh, wham to dat one?”
“ it smells”

“ you smell!”

We proceed down to the cliff past the lighthouse.

The view took my breath away. After four years it had not changed, yet I had. I looked out onto the water with the heart of someone older, wiser, ready for the future. I had lost that feeling of death that encompassed my last visit here.

I sat there staring into the water, remembering the past, smiling that it was still the past, when he came up and said,

“ come stand here”

oh god oh god! He going push meh in for sure!!!


“ I duh think so, I good here.”

“just come”

I walk slowly towards him and stand. ..

I remember the rain. It splashed down on our faces, hard, sharp, warm

I remember his face. It shun with the excitement of a five yr old boy

I remember saying yes, yes, yes, to a life worth living.