Page 7 of Under the Boardwalk

I shake my head as I make it to the entrance to the fair. Looking around, I make sure no one is looking, and the ticket booth teller is focused on her phone. I tap a few of the boards that line the left side of the fence until I find the one I'm looking for. Just as I'm about to admit defeat, thinking someone must have fixed the board, I feel it catch. Well, at least one thing wants to go my way tonight. I pull the board back just enough to slip my body through before sliding it back into place.

The bright neon lights of the fair light my way as I make my way down the slightly overgrown trail that leads under the boardwalk. I haven't been down here in so long, but still, it's all so familiar.

I sit in the dry sand, but still close enough for the water to lap at my ankles. I do my best to clean up the blood from my cuts, but the salty water burns the cut on my lip and one across my cheek. How did my life come to this? What did I do to deserve all of this? I just don't understand.

I let the tears fall faster and freely down my cheeks as I look out into the dark waves of the lapping water. What would it be like to just walk out in the middle of that water, lie back, and let the ocean take me? Just let it carry me as far as it can and hopefully, end up on some completely deserted island in the middle of nowhere. I would never have to worry about being ignored again because it would just be me, the island, and the ocean. Would it be so bad just to leave? To walk away, not knowing or really caring where I end up finally getting away from this whole personality I've created for myself.

The ocean seems to be like a siren calling to me, pulling me to the freedom that is the sea, away from the harshness, untruthfulness, and unloving people who seem to surround me day in and day out. I wipe another tear from my face as the siren’s call reminds me of an old sailor's tune my grandfather used to sing to me before he passed. He was a fisherman who loved the seas, loved it so much he sailed out one day and never came back. Dad said he wouldn't be surprised if he was still out there raising hell in the tides.

Still, I can remember the song and sing as I watch the waves roll in and out, in and out. I wonder if I sit here long enough if it will take me away just as peacefully as it carries the sand away beneath my feet? And if it does…

Will anyone even care?

Chapter Six

Riley

“Well, you look like you're hard at work,” Beck says, walking through the doors to the Inn. I don't turn my head his way, still throwing the old tennis ball against the roof above me. Something I’ve done since I started working here full-time when I was in high school.

The old grouchy janitor lives up there, and the first day on the job, he told me it was my job to clean every toilet in the joint. He had a bad back, and that was why the job paid so well. I thought to question it, but it was my first job. How was I supposed to know the pay was actually shit? I cleaned those toilets for nine months before the owner popped up and saw Reggie behind the counter instead of me, and me doing Reggie's job. Luckily, the older woman who owns this place is cool and thought it hilarious.

Me? I didn't think it was funny at all. I swore to get him back, and when I learned he lived in the room above the desk, I saw that tennis ball on the desk, and it started. It's been almost four years now, and Reggie and I have long since gotten over it, but Reggie confessed at the beginning of last summer that he missed that knock while I was away at university. He said he always knew I was home when I knocked.

“Not a lot of phone calls after ten at night. What are you doing here?” I ask, throwing the ball one more time and then placing it on the counter beside me.

I lean forward in my chair and turn to look at him. Beck’s never really been the night owl of the group. He does maintenance for the town and the Golf Course on the rich part of the island. Those fuckers can call him in the dead of night just to come to fix a busted ice maker. I’m pretty sure they’ve called him at three in the morning to come jump-start a car. Rich assholes.

“Well, Gray and Kas were, of course, busy with their women, and I knew you’d love my company on your nightly routine. So here I am.” He throws his arms wide and smirks at me. I narrow my eyes at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, don't give me that. We know all about your trips to the pier. You're looking for her, and tonight, I'm here to help. So let's get moving.”

“I just really been craving funnel cakes,” I try to recover.

“Yeah, it shows in your ass. Now, come on. Which station do you want to start with, the funnel cake stand, or the Ferris wheel? Then we can finish with a fresh lemonade before scoping out the parking lot for about forty-five minutes,” Beck says confidently.

I'm so stunned by the realization that my friends knew what I even denied to myself. I don't realize Beck has me clocked out halfway down the boardwalk when I notice I haven't spoken. How did he know the exact path and booth I check out every night? Normally, I'm so engrossed in my books that I barely notice anything or anyone around me. It's possible I just switched my obsession with books for my obsession with my little siren.

“How long have you guys known?” I ask him. I hadn't seen the guys much since my family dinner about two weeks ago. At first, I just wandered the boardwalk when I usually would have been hanging out with them, then I realized a few days into it that I was actually looking for something, well, someone.

“Eh, little more than a week. The question really is, why didn't you ask for help? You know we always got your back, man. I have a lot of contacts around here.” He puffs out his chest like a peacock, and I can't help but give him a gut check.

“Hey, no fair,” he complains.

“Yeah, that would be a lot of help if I had her name,” I mutter.

“Damn, brother, you're obsessed with this girl and don't even know her name? That's insane!” Beck yells.

I sigh. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

I continue walking down the boardwalk, getting lost in my thoughts. After that dry, boring dinner that night, I realized I knew that was not the life I wanted. It's the life I was headed for, one my older siblings are headed for. I want something different, though. But Beck is right. How can I be so crazy about this girl without even knowing her name? I stay lost in my thoughts as we circle around the carnival, looking in all my normal spots, not really paying attention to the bright lights and cheerful laughs around me. By the time we make it back to the parking lot, I feel more lost and dejected than ever.

“You know what, man? I think I'm going to make it an early night. No use waiting around when I know she's never going to come.” I shrug, turning to walk back toward my parents' house.

“Damn, I’m sorry we didn't have any luck tonight, man. I’m gonna stay out here a little longer. See if I can catch a glimpse of that yellow van. You know, to, uh, see if they know where your girl is,” he replies oddly. Why would he want to stay around? Beck’s always a wild card, so instead of questioning it, I shrug and give him a chin lift before walking back toward the boardwalk.

I’m just past the pier welcome sign when I hear an echo of a voice coming from somewhere close. It breaks through my brain fog, and something about it is so familiar. I shake my head and continue my depressing walk when the voice hits a high note. Again, something about that voice. It’s pulling me that way. It's a beautiful voice, but it's getting lost in all the noise around me. I take another step away from the carnival, just wanting to call it a night already.