Tide of Wood, Sand, and Sea

Live as a captain, even when the tide refuses to carry you.

Gripping the sandpaper, Mel's gaunt old hand moved in harmony with the majestic rhythm of the waves scouring the shore.

Joelly leaned his surfboard in the primer-gray dent on Mel's pickup. The young man stood loose, yellow blobs of crocheted hair on top of his natural black. He walked up to Mel like a rag doll. "How's the project?"

Mel ran his fingers through his gentleman's-cut, graying hair and looked at the wooden-boat-in-pieces he had scattered on the sand. He couldn't see a way to make it work. His dream of owning a rowboat sprang a leak when he bought the wrong wood—if it ever held water. "Hopeless. I'll never be out there."

"Dude?" Joelly picked up a block. "Who cares."

"I do." Mel snatched the wood from Joelly's hand.

Staring at him, Mel thought of the mortgage and the Norris account and his leaky radiator, not to mention the many other problems queued up behind those. Solve any one of them and a hundred more crowd in. "It's my one escape."

"Man? Don't do that."

Grow up? Of all people, Mel never thought Joelly would tell him to 'grow up.' Surely, though, Joelly would see reason. Mel whined, "But, I need this."

Joelly shrugged.

Nothing? "I'm stretched to the breaking point."

"So, we're stressing about whether your first boat will get off the ground." Joelly nodded. "Good thinking."

Joelly spewed nonsense. Mel's time on the boat promised to restore his balance with the universe. Surely, surely Joelly would understand; he had to. Mel opened his arms to beg. "Can't you see that I'll be better off out there, rowing?"

"Looks like." The surfer boy turned to the sunset on the waves. "But I saw something you didn't."

"What could you possibly see that makes this—" Mel swept his hands over the mess he had made of his dream— "okay?"

"The look on your face." He took a deep inhale from his hand-rolled cigarette. "As you were sanding. The image of a sea captain."

Like lightning, flashes of insight rippled through his mind, lighting the gloom for the time of a passing wave. I had felt something. Hadn't I? Mel glared down at the wood and worried at it for a few seconds.

That grated as if Mel scratched at his own skin. The moment lost, he tossed the scrap aside.

"So, you wiped out." Joelly gripped Mel's shoulder. "You found what you love."

Being thrown by a wave, not the worst thing. Mel glared even harder. Why won't you stop making sense?

He laughed and offered Mel a toke. "Remember them days."

Mel waved him away and looked longingly into the horizon. Could it be enough—to yearn for the sea? To stand on the beach, getting ready? Mel didn't see how.

Still, the harmony of his hand against the wood—no different than upon an oar—that he already had. Other than a finished boat, what more could a man desire? And if he already had the essence, sure as the tide, the rest would come. A captain in drydock, Mel stepped up beside Joelly and took in the fading glimmers of sunset.

***

Mel stacked another armload of wood into the bed of his truck. "How do you do it, Joelly? The way Jack goes after you..."

Joelly shrugged and passed a few more boards to Mel. "Had to decide if I was a surfer, or just a man with a board."

Mel let out a long sigh. "Forget I ever asked."

"Nah, man. Once I knew, my identity became more important than Jack's moods."

"That easy?" Mel scoffed. "Decide you're going to be a surfer, even if there be no surf."

Joelly shook his head. "Hm, no. Sometimes, it's a pathetic act.

Mel had caught Joelly in his lie. He nodded.

"But, it's my act. I decide."

Mel gave him a long look and an uncomfortable grin. "You been hit in the head one too many times."

"That what you wanna think? Maybe that's what it takes."

It felt good to watch Jack stew over Joelly. "Well, it is pretty sweet watching you get the better of Jack."

"Not what it's all about."

Mel stared at Joelly.

"But yeah." Joelly smirked and shook his finger at Mel. "Really hits the spot."

Mel bumped knuckles with Joelly.

Joelly snickered. "I'm not the Dolly Lamb-baa, you know?"

"He's a llama, not a lamb," Mel corrected.

Joelly smirked sideways at him.

Mel tried not to chuckle.

{/dropnote}