As I posted in my response under Twerk & Purrt, I wrote this about four years ago for a 'rapid fiction' contest: You get a phrase and a maximum word count, and 24 hours to write, edit, and send it in via email. I loved it. Made me think, keep me up on my toes. This one was one of my entries (it's a quarterly contest, I did it twice). I don't think I've edited it terribly much. There is some truth in how certain things were handled, something she explains to her daughter. If you want, I'll explain it in more detail after someone responds... oh yeah... and that beach is real... I've been there.
Enjoy,
Amanda
* * *
Remember Me
* * *
Remember Me
Rose knew this year might be the last. With James gone last fall and her arthritis getting worse, she knew. This year, she enlisted her eldest daughter to make the trip, without an explanation. Marie sat behind the wheel, driving toward the Pacific Ocean. The sun was barely above the horizon an hour and just starting to warm up the sky. Reaching Half Moon Bay, Marie turned south on the Coastal Highway.
“Why are we going to the beach today? Itâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]ll be too hot out today. Why not tomorrow?â€
Ignoring her daughterâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s pleas, she remained quiet for a half hour.
“Pull in here, Marie. This is it,†Rose said as they approached a small, unmarked parking lot on the side of Highway 1.
Marie pulled into the lot and helped her mother out of the car. She looked around at the seemingly abandoned parking lot. Crop fields surrounded the small paved lot.
“I donâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t understand. Where are we, mother?â€
“You donâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t have to understand. You just have to be here. This is the right time for you to know. I think James would have wanted this.â€
“I donâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t see a beach, mom, only a service road heading nowhere.â€
“Thatâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s where weâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]re going.â€
Rose used her floral umbrella as a walking stick as they started down the dirt road. It dipped, curved to the left, opening up to a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Marie stood back where the road ended, watching her mother stare at the expanse of water. After a few minutes, Rose turned away from the water and walked toward the right side of the cliff.
“Come, Marie, letâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s go wiggle our toes in the sand.â€
Marie caught up to her mother, “But thereâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s no san-â€
Rose pointed at the cliff ahead of them. Marie noticed the steps her mother was pointing to. They were carved into the cliff, made firm by old railroad ties, leading down to a quiet, sandy beach. Reaching the bottom, Marie noticed that high tide had washed out the last twenty feet some years ago. A rope guided them down an uneven path off to the left. Sitting down on a fallen log, they removed their shoes and buried their toes in the hot sand.
Rose dug her feet in deeper, finding something hard and smooth with her toes. Bringing it to the surface, she discovered an old coke bottle, the kind Rose hasnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t seen in decades. She removed the cork and pulled out a rolled up piece of vellum. She froze, realizing what she held in her hands. Removing the paper from her motherâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s hands, Marie began to read.
“My lovely Rose Marie Byrne (formerly Rose Marie Parker). I hope youâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]ll find this before I return from Europe. Remember when we courted? All of us coming here, but we used to sneak off alone. Iâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]m leaving it here, hidden in a place on this beach that you and I always snuck off to. Here we are, husband and wife. This war in Europe will end soon. I will be home before you know it. Then we can start our life together. All my love, Arthur.â€
Rose walked down to the water, wading in ankle deep. Warm on the surface, the water didnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t provide the relief she desired. Marie walked up behind her mother, waves lapping at her toes.
“Whoâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s Arthur?â€
“Your father.â€
“Father died last Fall,†Marie took a step back, out of the water.
“James raised you, but he wasnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t your biological father. Arthur was. Arthur and James were fraternal twins. In high school, James, Arthur, Betty and Joe, and myself, would all come to this very beach on the weekends. The boys hauled firewood for a sunset bonfire. After graduation, the call came for young men to enlist. Arthur signed up first, despite protestations by their mother. He wanted to fight in Europe. We married a week before he left for basic training. He came home for a week before going to Europe. Weeks after leaving for Europe, his battalion reached the beaches of Normandy on June 6, 1944.â€
“That was D-Day. Mom, how is it no one has ever mentioned Arthur?â€
“Soon after Normandy, James got excited and enlisted in the Navy, defying his brotherâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s wishes. The morning of July 23rd, I got the call from the doctor. I was pregnant with you. James, on furlough after finishing basic training, myself and all our family and friends came here to celebrate the impending baby and to see James off. Your Aunt Betty and Uncle Joe were still at the house. They received the telegram. They rushed here, forgetting the food back at the house. The telegram stated that Arthur had died on the beaches of Normandy. We found out later from a neighborâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s son who survived, that it took weeks to locate and identify the dead.â€
Rose continued staring out over the water.
“The log wasnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t here then. And those steps came all the way down. After an hour, James said heâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]d take his brotherâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s place, if I was willing. He would be the father to my unborn child. We both knew it wouldnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t be the same. Arthur was my soul mate. Nevertheless, I agreed. Raising a baby alone back then just wasnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t done.â€
Rose stepped out into the water further, now with the waves lapping around her knees.
“James served his country and came home. You were eight by the time we had children of our own. Grief was something we kept private. James and I came back here every year on July 23rd, to remember Arthur.â€
Rose turned to look at her daughter. They stared at each other for a long while. Without another word, Rose walked out of the water and they walked arm-in-arm back to the log. Rose and Marie sat down, digging their toes into the sand once more.
* * *
Enjoy,
Amanda
* * *
Remember Me
* * *
Remember Me
Rose knew this year might be the last. With James gone last fall and her arthritis getting worse, she knew. This year, she enlisted her eldest daughter to make the trip, without an explanation. Marie sat behind the wheel, driving toward the Pacific Ocean. The sun was barely above the horizon an hour and just starting to warm up the sky. Reaching Half Moon Bay, Marie turned south on the Coastal Highway.
“Why are we going to the beach today? Itâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]ll be too hot out today. Why not tomorrow?â€
Ignoring her daughterâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s pleas, she remained quiet for a half hour.
“Pull in here, Marie. This is it,†Rose said as they approached a small, unmarked parking lot on the side of Highway 1.
Marie pulled into the lot and helped her mother out of the car. She looked around at the seemingly abandoned parking lot. Crop fields surrounded the small paved lot.
“I donâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t understand. Where are we, mother?â€
“You donâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t have to understand. You just have to be here. This is the right time for you to know. I think James would have wanted this.â€
“I donâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t see a beach, mom, only a service road heading nowhere.â€
“Thatâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s where weâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]re going.â€
Rose used her floral umbrella as a walking stick as they started down the dirt road. It dipped, curved to the left, opening up to a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Marie stood back where the road ended, watching her mother stare at the expanse of water. After a few minutes, Rose turned away from the water and walked toward the right side of the cliff.
“Come, Marie, letâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s go wiggle our toes in the sand.â€
Marie caught up to her mother, “But thereâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s no san-â€
Rose pointed at the cliff ahead of them. Marie noticed the steps her mother was pointing to. They were carved into the cliff, made firm by old railroad ties, leading down to a quiet, sandy beach. Reaching the bottom, Marie noticed that high tide had washed out the last twenty feet some years ago. A rope guided them down an uneven path off to the left. Sitting down on a fallen log, they removed their shoes and buried their toes in the hot sand.
Rose dug her feet in deeper, finding something hard and smooth with her toes. Bringing it to the surface, she discovered an old coke bottle, the kind Rose hasnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t seen in decades. She removed the cork and pulled out a rolled up piece of vellum. She froze, realizing what she held in her hands. Removing the paper from her motherâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s hands, Marie began to read.
“My lovely Rose Marie Byrne (formerly Rose Marie Parker). I hope youâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]ll find this before I return from Europe. Remember when we courted? All of us coming here, but we used to sneak off alone. Iâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]m leaving it here, hidden in a place on this beach that you and I always snuck off to. Here we are, husband and wife. This war in Europe will end soon. I will be home before you know it. Then we can start our life together. All my love, Arthur.â€
Rose walked down to the water, wading in ankle deep. Warm on the surface, the water didnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t provide the relief she desired. Marie walked up behind her mother, waves lapping at her toes.
“Whoâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s Arthur?â€
“Your father.â€
“Father died last Fall,†Marie took a step back, out of the water.
“James raised you, but he wasnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t your biological father. Arthur was. Arthur and James were fraternal twins. In high school, James, Arthur, Betty and Joe, and myself, would all come to this very beach on the weekends. The boys hauled firewood for a sunset bonfire. After graduation, the call came for young men to enlist. Arthur signed up first, despite protestations by their mother. He wanted to fight in Europe. We married a week before he left for basic training. He came home for a week before going to Europe. Weeks after leaving for Europe, his battalion reached the beaches of Normandy on June 6, 1944.â€
“That was D-Day. Mom, how is it no one has ever mentioned Arthur?â€
“Soon after Normandy, James got excited and enlisted in the Navy, defying his brotherâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s wishes. The morning of July 23rd, I got the call from the doctor. I was pregnant with you. James, on furlough after finishing basic training, myself and all our family and friends came here to celebrate the impending baby and to see James off. Your Aunt Betty and Uncle Joe were still at the house. They received the telegram. They rushed here, forgetting the food back at the house. The telegram stated that Arthur had died on the beaches of Normandy. We found out later from a neighborâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s son who survived, that it took weeks to locate and identify the dead.â€
Rose continued staring out over the water.
“The log wasnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t here then. And those steps came all the way down. After an hour, James said heâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]d take his brotherâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s place, if I was willing. He would be the father to my unborn child. We both knew it wouldnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t be the same. Arthur was my soul mate. Nevertheless, I agreed. Raising a baby alone back then just wasnâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]t done.â€
Rose stepped out into the water further, now with the waves lapping around her knees.
“James served his country and came home. You were eight by the time we had children of our own. Grief was something we kept private. James and I came back here every year on July 23rd, to remember Arthur.â€
Rose turned to look at her daughter. They stared at each other for a long while. Without another word, Rose walked out of the water and they walked arm-in-arm back to the log. Rose and Marie sat down, digging their toes into the sand once more.
* * *
