Cassidy and the Whale (Part 1)
By: J.S. Lender
Tags: Fiction, California, Literally Literary, Short Story, Beach

We finally get to where we’re going, and my dad parks the car at the Laguna Beach parking lot. You’d think that would be the end of my misery, but oh, are you sadly mistaken. Now it’s time to haul the chairs, coolers, umbrellas, towels, blankets, and food all the way down to the sand, which is about 50 miles from where we have parked our car. I almost forgot, we have to haul Sissy all the way down to the sand, too, since she is just 18 months old, and is basically just another piece of cargo.

By the time we drag our sorry spectacle of a family all the way down to the beach, I am trying my very best to pretend that this is not my family and that I don’t know these ridiculous people who are walking with me. Sissy is in full on tantrum mode, sounding like a screeching eagle that has broken its wing and fallen to the ground in agony. Her screams are so loud that I am starting to wonder whether I will have permanent hearing loss after this outing with my circus of a family.

As soon as we are set up on the sand, I throw off my robe, revealing a new green one-piece bathing suit my mom bought me on sale at Monique’s Discount Warehouse. I slap my pink goggles onto my face, then charge toward the roaring waves so fast that I do not even feel the white-hot sand burning my feet. My dad yells at me to wait for him because I am only seven years old and I cannot swim like the big kids yet, but I tell him not to worry, I will stay close to shore and I will not go past the breaking waves (I lied). My dad agrees, and off I run faster than a Greyhound dog at the racetrack.

I am excited to be at the beach because I love playing in the water, but also because I desperately need to change the color of my hair. You see, I was born with the wrong color hair. For some reason, there was a mix up in the hair department when I was born, and someone gave me dark brown hair by mistake. Everyone knows that I was meant to be a blonde, except for the person who gave me this dark brown hair. My friend from school, Traci, told me that if I spend enough time in direct sunlight, the sun will change my hair from dark brown to blonde. So, I have decided that I will spend every waking moment standing directly under the powerful sun, to get the blonde hair that I deserve.

The salt water from the Pacific Ocean is cool and refreshing on my sweaty toes. It doesn’t take me long to get used to the water temperature, and before I know it, I am waist deep in the white wash that is surrounding my legs and hips and stomach. I look back onto the shore. My parents are struggling to set up the umbrella and lay the blankets on the sand, while Sissy is screaming so loud that everyone on the beach has stopped what they are doing, and they are staring at my family as if we are a scary brood of monsters. R.J. is standing on the sand with a candy bar in his mouth, laughing hysterically at Sissy and her shenanigans. This is my time to make a move, while no one is watching me.

I slip my pink Snoopy goggles off my forehead and over my eyes. I dive deep into the water, under a wave that has crashed in front of me. I have been on the swim team for two years now, and I am pretty good at keeping up with the older kids. Under the water, everything becomes so quiet that it seems as if the rest of the world has disappeared and turned to dust. I really like it down here. I wish I could stay here forever. After I come up for air, I look back and realize that I have swam out past the waves. The ocean’s horizon looks inviting and peaceful. I start paddling freestyle farther and farther out to sea.

I stop and tread water in one place, and try to feel downward with my feet. There seems to be no bottom to this heartless ocean, and I do not believe that I will ever touch the sand with my feet again. But I am not tired, not even close. So I start doing the breaststroke toward the ocean’s horizon.