By Stephanie Simpson-Woods
Calm, it was the only word that could describe the ocean’s shores that night. Each ripple that was cascaded across the water’s surface slowly made it’s way to the shore, being pushed by the subtle breeze that flew through Amber Sanford’s sunny, blond tresses.
Amber was waiting alone on her boyfriend, Gary, to arrive, sitting on the grainy, wet sand with her bare feet in the water. She had been waiting for 2 hours, but it was O.K. with her. It was a beautiful evening and she was in no hurry to go anywhere. So there she sat under the stars, thinking about Gary.
It had been about a year since she had met Gary. She was purchasing a new bra at the local department store when he had walked up behind her and complimented her on her taste in lingerie. At first, she suspected him to be some kind of freakish pervert, stalking women in the underwear department and reusing the line, “Nice choice. That would compliment you very nicely,” but when she turned around, his hazel eyes gleamed with innocence and sincerity.
Laying her head back against the sand, she looked into the dark sky and began counting the twinkling stars overhead.
“1”
“2”
“3”
“4”
“5”
“6 days since I’ve seen Gary.”
The last time they were together they were at her beach house, which was about 70 yards behind her. They stood at the sliding patio doors, staring out through the glass, looking at the peaceful seascape Amber called home. He had told her how much he loved the ocean and that he grew up building sand castles on the sunny shores of California.
“This was my Father’s place,” she said, leaning her head to the side and rubbing her bronze cheek on his chest.
The breeze began to cease and she sat up, taking in the beautiful sight of the moonlight reflecting in the drifting water. The scenery was so relaxing, she stretched her mouth open widely and absorbed a large amount of the salty air into her lungs. Rubbing her eyes, she closed her mouth and noticed a figure creeping towards her, smothered within the darkness.
“Gary,” she called out, pulling herself to her feet.
As the figure walked closer, the moonlight from above and its reflection from the water, gave way to Gary’s features. His hazel eyes shone brightly and his red hair was slicked back as it had always been. The shirt on his back was tattered and his jeans were torn.
Smiling from ear to ear, Amber ran up to him and embraced him. Her hands around his strong neck, she pressed her face against his breast and hugged him.
“I knew you’d come,” she breathed, her heart fluttering beneath her ribcage.
Her friends said she was crazy and that after what had happened, he would never come back. But he did, just as he had promised. Besides, what did they know about the love the two of them shared? All of those countless nights curled up in each other’s arms talking about the future, reminiscing about the past. Amber and Gary, though 2 separate people, where one being, “Two peas in a pod,” their friends had called them.
They had many things in common: Music, art, they even enjoyed the same films, mostly cheesy Mel Brooks comedies and dramas with Meg Ryan. They spent everyday together, never going a full 15 minutes without touching each other. There was always that gentile sweep of Gary’s hair or the soft touch of Amber’s lips on his ear. The couple was in love, like two spring finches dancing between clouds for each other's attention.
Gary leaned down and stroked Amber’s fragile chin with his cold, wet finger.
She sighed at his touch and kissed his fleshy mouth, the taste of rotted fish and salty ocean water caressed her taste buds. While their kiss hardened, she could see all of her friend's faces beneath her eyelids, each one glowing within the shadows of her slowly wilting mind.
“He’s not coming back, Amber.”
“Gary is gone.”
“Gary is dead.”
“I’m sorry Amber.”
He isn’t dead.
She ran her fingers through his muddy, wet hair; a glob of seaweed oozed through her fingertips as she moved her hand down to the bullet hole on his left temple.
“No one knows why these things happen. They just do.”
Her friends' words still plagued her mind. She had told herself over and over again, “He’s not gone. His note said he would come back and he will.”
It had been 6 days since Gary stood alone at the ocean’s edge and pulled the trigger that would end his life, his body carried away by his second true love, the sea. It had been 6 long days since he had written the note that had promised his beloved, Amber that he would soon return for her.
And he did, she thought to herself.
Again, she glanced up at him, his once perfect flesh falling from his slimy bones, the bullet wound on his left temple filled with the trash of the sea. His hazel eyes were sunk deep within his skull, surrounded by charcoal circles. The veins that once pumped warm blood throughout his body were now cold, still, a grayish-blue that protruded from his stark white skin.
Pulling one of his shaking, decaying hands into the air, Gary reared it back and struck Ambers chest, knocking her flat on her stomach in the sand. His grimy fingers wrapping around her right ankle, he drug Amber across the Earth in which she laid, the sand embedding itself into her skin, leaving scratch marks and cuts on her belly.
“Gary, What are you doing? Gary?”
Blood from her stomach smearing across the Earth’s surface, she began to scream. She dug her nails into the sand, trying to hold her body still. Instead, one of her nails cracked and she continued to slide, ankles first into the water. Kicking, jerking her body from left to right, Amber tried to free herself from Gary’s grasp, but it was useless. He continued to pull his love into the water until it was totally submerged.
She began to choke on the salty water, gargling between the tiny breaths she was trying to take, the water filling her delicate lungs. The faces of her friends started laughing and cackling at her.
“He’s gone.”
“He’s never coming back.”
“Stop it, Amber! You sound fucking crazy!”
But he did come back for her. He had kept his promise.
The evil faces disappeared from her thoughts as her life did from her body, it floating to the water’s surface with her arms dangling beneath her, her hair beautifully stretched out on the top of the water.
Lifting his decrepit arm from the ocean, Gary pulled Amber’s body back into the large blanket of wetness, both of them never to be seen again.
Stephanie Simpson-Woods is a freelance writer and poet from the North Carolina Mountains. Her writing has been featured on The Dark Half.com, Blood Lust UK, The Murder Hole.com, House of Pain.com,The Eternal Night.com and everywhere inbetween. Her story, Mistress Edie will be appearing in an upcomming anthology by Diana Bennet entitled, Raging Horrormones.
In her spare time she does book reviews for Castle Dracula and Psyzmacgrafs Zine.
Pooling from her experience as a college radio disc jockey and journalist, she has recently completed
her first 2-part novel, "Internet Message," which will be available soon through Publish America http://hometown.aol.com/lilypadleaper3