Instinctive Amusings

As she drove away for the summer, a calm settled over her that hadn't
been there in months. Freedom. Freedom of movement, freedom of
choice. No matter how free you think you are, you're really not free until
you have nothing left to lose, or so the saying goes. And right now she had
nothing. She gunned the car up around the curves, headed out of town.



A bus, two trucks, and seventeen cars separated him from the on-ramp,
but nothing and nobody moved an inch. The on-ramp was his salvation,
his escape, and he could see it from where he now sat, but still nothing
moved. He shut off the engine, not wanting to overheat just sitting here.
As he took a drink of water an ambulance went by on the side of the road,
barely missing the guardrails as it made its way down to some crash scene
still miles away. Although he was turning off at the next exit, he wondered
how long it would take to get the vehicles in front of him moving again.
NEXT EXIT NORTH. He could see it. He just couldn't get to it.


Forty minutes later the trafffic began to inch forward.


She merged into another highway headed north. As she followed the
merge she noticed below that an on-ramp was bringing traffic in her
direction and she slowed accordingly. A light-blue Dodge Dakota ended up
in front of her and she followed it for five or six miles until the traffic began
to thin, then passed it and continued on her way.

He wanted to follow the white Jeep Cherokee as it pulled out to pass him
but a quick peek at his gas gauge reminded him that he should've filled up
before taking off on vacation, but he hadn't. He watched the Jeep pass
and admired the scenery as the good-looking driver accelerated and was
soon a mile ahead. Now that was a looker ! His vacation was already
paying dividends he thought to himself, as he searched for the next gas
station.

WAY UP NORTH, TO ALASKA, WAY UP NORTH, TO ALASKA, NORTH TO
ALASKA, GOING NORTH I'M A' TRAVELING ON. . . . . . .

. . .funny how the radio station plays certain music at certain times isn't
it . . .like they seem to know exactly how you're feeling at that very exact
moment or something darn close to it.

It was time to make a pit stop, in more ways then one. He had filled up
twice so far and was making pretty good time but the 8-cyclinder Dakota
liked to be fed on a regular basis. Besides, he had to go.
He pulled off at the next exit and went to the restroom first. He'd driven
900 miles already, so when he came out of the restroom he looked
around for a place to eat, and spotted a quiet-looking steakhouse on the
other side of the road that seemed just fine. He filled his gas tank, topped
off his fluids, then went back to the restroom to wash up and change his
shirt. He drove slowly over to the steakhouse, parking in the almost
empty parking lot with lights that were just beginning to pop on. He passed
the Cherokee on his way in but it didn't register until he saw her sitting at
the bar. The babe that had passed him, hours ago !

Lynn didn’t much care for bars, however it was getting late, the restaurant was packed and she was hungry! Thus she took a seat at the bar before she fainted from lack of food. As she waited for the food to come, her phone beeped. A message! She opened her phone & right away started cracking up. “Gosh darn you Angela!” she said under her breath. Then she deliberately text some off the wall, shocking message back to her friend, giggled a little as she closed her phone. Instantly her phone beeped again she quickly opened it and laughed so hard it made her stomach hurt, completely oblivious to the man sitting at the end of the bar watching her. “Oh my god Angela-You're nuts!” she said laughing as she text her friend once more.

Lynn’s food finally arrived; as she ate, she continued getting messages from her crazy girl friend Angela and the messaging continued back and forth until finally Angela called her and they laughed together. “What do you mean what am I doing?” Lynn said “Yes... Ang…. I told you I was on my way to Maxwell Point to scatter the....the…” Lynn looked around the room…”Let me call you later...there’s lots of people in here.” Lynn quickly finished eating her sandwich, paid her tab then got back on the road. She had a long drive ahead of her.

Once back in her car, she quickly locked the doors, took out her reading glasses, looked at the map to see how far it was to the cut-off that went through the coastal mountain range. It was already starting to get dark; there was a beautiful pinkish-purple glow in the twilight sky. It was amazing how gorgeous the sky was tonight! Reaching her turn off, she stopped in the little town to fill the car with gasoline before going any further. She was on a very important assignment, not one of her choosing, however it was one she couldn’t abandon. The mission needed to be complete. It was the last wish of a dying friend that she had vowed to keep. Now it was time to bring that request to the forefront and keep her promise.

There were elk everywhere on the roadside. She was very attentive to her driving, if not she’d hit one of those big beasts and total her small car. The further she went through the mountains the more the radio station faded in and out. She hit auto search, the choices were very limited at this point so she put an audio book in and listened to that instead of the static. She’d been meaning to read Savannah Blues, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet, so finding the audio book for the road trip was brilliant! Looking up, she screamed as she clipped an cow elk standing in the middle of the road. It fell to the pavement, and Lynn started to cry. She was shaking so bad from the ordeal that she could barely get her cell phone out, but when she did, there was no cell signal. All she could do was stand there crying as she watched the elk trying to lift its head completely disoriented. If only she had a gun…Lynn was at a complete loss….





[edit on 8/11/2008 by jensouth31]

He sat at the end of the bar, listening to the jukebox play an old country
song. Went something like "You don't have to call me darling . . . . .
. . .darling . . . .you never even call me by my name."" He had placed his
order for a steak and salad and a glass of red wine, but now as he waited
to be seated in a booth he sipped his cold beer and watched the looker at the other end of the bar laugh herself silly. Laughter is contagious and he
couldn't keep himself from smiling as she continued to banter with some-
one on the other end of a cell phone. A booth opened up and his food
arrived and as he made the transition from the bar to the restaurant he
saw her leaving. Too bad, he wanted to at least ask her what she thought
of Maxwell Point. He had heard her mention it when he had come in, and
that just happened to be where he was going to start his vacation.
Oh well !

He left a tip, walked out to his truck, and was back on the freeway before
he knew it. It was getting darker now and he decided after a half hour or
so that he'd better find a place to stop for the night, otherwise he'd
probably drive off the highway from sheer exhaustion. 900 miles was a
good day's ride, he didn't want to push it. As he came around a wide
corner his headlights picked up the white Cherokee sitting over on the side
of the road, its emergency flashers lighting up the dark pasture land like
an eerie scene from some movie. He pulled in behind the Jeep, got out,
and went over to see if he could be of any assistance. As he got closer he
saw the dead elk on the road in front of the vehicle, and the shattered
glass from both headlights. The woman sat inside the Jeep, watching him
cautiously. He motioned for her to roll the window down and it went down
about three inches. "Need any help?" he asked.
"No thank you. I'm fine. I'll just wait till it gets light enough to drive
without my headlights and then I'll find a gas station that'll fix my car. But
thank you anyway."
"That might be a good ten hours or so lady, so if I was you I'd turn off my
flashers and conserve my battery, otherwise you won't be able to drive
anywhere in the morning."
He watched her as she gave it some thought and was amazed how cool
and confident she appeared to be. No lightweight here. "Thanks for the
tip mister", she said through the window. "I'll be alright. Thank you again
though."
"You're welcome", he replied. "Good luck." He turned back to his truck
and got in, starting it up and fastening his seatbelt. Her flashers went off
just before he turned his headlights on and they were plunged into
complete blackness. As he turned on his headlights her driver's side door
opened and she stepped out, walking towards him. "You know, I've
decided that sitting here all night in the dark doesn't sound that exciting
and I was wondering if you could give me a ride to the nearest town ?"
"No problem", he laughed. "No problem at all."
She stuck out her hand and said "Hi, I'm Lynn."
"And I'm Paul", he said, "climb in."

After exchanging small pleasantries, he got enough nerve to ask her some
questions about his destination.
Ever hear of Maxwell Point ? Tillamook ? Oceanside ? Stonefield Beach ?
The Three Cape Loop ?
How about Hug Point ? I hear they have sea caves and tidepools there.

I don't mean to overwhelm you but it'd be nice to learn a few things about
the area before I get there and start my vacation.

“Yeah- I’ve heard of all those place. I’ve never been to Stonefield beach, but I’ve been to Yachats. It’s a charming-ish…. little town. Not one of my favorites though. The atmosphere there doesn’t feel right. If you know what I mean?” Lynn said glancing in Paul’s direction.

“Mm-hmm- yep, I know what you mean” Paul said shaking his head in agreement. “But what about the other little towns Lynn?”

“Well… Maxwell Point & Oceanside are basically one and the same, also one of my favorite places to go on a really low tide. On a minus two tide you can walk around Maxwell Point, which is a huge rock/ cliff and there are some really neat huge rocks back there with muscles, anemones…all kinds of stuff stuck to them. Huge barnacles that are fun to mess with, although creepy looking.” Lynn laughed. “They kind of look like some sort of prehistoric oddity to me. They’re incredibly large and they make this little snapping popping noise.” She said wrinkling her nose as she tapped the fingers on both hands to her thumbs out in front of her face.

Her gestures made Paul laugh. “Well I guess I’ll have to get a close look at some of those!” Paul said smiling. “What about Netarts?”

“Ahhh…Netarts!” Lynn smiled. “I love that little town! It’s my very most favorite beach town in the world. I spent a great deal of time there as a child between Netarts & Tillamook.”

“What makes it so special?” Paul asked

“It’s a feeling mostly. It’s very laid back there. The locals are friendly; you can go into the Schooner and talk to old fishermen find out what’s shaken, get local gossip…you name it. Everyone knows everybody and none of them give a god damn what you think about their little salt corroded town. The town never changes except for an occasional beach house that springs up." She said smiling

"Netarts bay is an awesome place to clam. You can rake cockles, dig gapers, crab, walk on the beach- whatever. It just feels like home when I’m there! And Tillamook…well that’s home to the best cheddar cheese & ice cream in the world. At least I think it is!”” Lynn went on and on. “Oh my goodness. I’m being horribly rude! Would you just listen to me talking so much like this! What brings you to the area Paul?” Lynn questioned trying not to dominate the conversation.

Lynn sat quietly listening to Paul as he told her what stirred him to make a trip to the Oregon coast. Lynn tried to see what he looked like, but the darkness in the cab of the truck left his facial features somewhat of a mystery. He did have a nice speaking voice; she didn’t need any light in the truck to notice that! She very much enjoyed the conversation even though she yawned several times, but she couldn't help that, it was getting very late. The day had been long.




[edit on 8/12/2008 by jensouth31]

The first town they came to appeared to be closed for the night. The gas
station was closed, the restaurants were closed, all the stores (five) were
closed, everything. A Best Western Motel had its neon logo ablaze, the
only visible signs of life anywhere around, and the sign said "vacancy".
Pulling in to its parking lot, Paul again emphasized to Lynn how tired they
both were and that this was as good a place as any to call it a night.

They checked in separately, rooms 17 and 18. She thanked him one more
time before shutting her door and falling on the bed, exhausted. She was
asleep in minutes.

Paul sat on the bed, turned on the T.V., took off his shoes, and leaned
back against the pillows, glad to be free from the driving. The T.V. was
still on low when he woke up at 05:30 in the morning.
He got up and dressed quickly, making his way down to the motel's lobby
where he fixed himself a cup of hot coffee. Back in his room, he greedily
drank half of the coffee down, then stripped and went in to take a hot
shower. Twenty minutes later he was sitting in front of the T.V. watching
the morning news when a story came on about an accident that had
occured overnight up in the mountains.

Seems a tractor-trailer had collided with another vehicle in the fog, causing
quite an explosion. The truck driver, using his CB, had radioed for help and
the rescue ambulance had arrived shortly thereafter, finding the smaller
vehicle engulfed in flames. They could not locate the driver. A dead elk
laying on the side of the road indicated that it might have been involved
somehow, maybe even had been the cause. Local residents were
ecoouraged to call a Hotline number if they had any information on a 2006
white Jeep Cherokee. Paul jumped up and ran out to knock on room #17's
door. "Hey Lynn open up. It's Paul. Lynn. Lynn. Lynn!"
He tried the handle and the door opened inwards, revealing the fact that
no one was in there ! She was gone !

After filling the gas tank he made three or four trips around the small town,
trying to find her. He was unsuccessful. It was still early and he hadn't
seen a soul out and about, let alone a business that was open. He had
been surprised that the gas station at the end of town had been open.
Inquiring about her, he was told that he was the first and only customer of
the day. He headed for the freeway. "Netarts, here I come !"

He took 101 North to Whiskey Creek Road, deciding to get off there and
come n slowly from the south, enjoying the rustic beauty of the land.

Now, where was The Terimore ?

Lynn was awake before sunrise. She decided to take a walk down toward the water. It was less than a mile to the beach from the Best Western. There as a little dock she knew of down by the looking glass inn. She’d sit there on the dock and watch the sun dance over the water as it rose. On her way through the lobby she grabbed a cup of coffee & headed out. Once outside she paused briefly taking a big breath of air into her lungs. She could smell the ocean in the air. She smiled, It smelled like home! Fifteen minutes later she was sitting on the dock with a cup of coffee cradled in her hands ready to meet the first blush of sunrise……….

It was so peaceful, that Lynn lost track of time sitting down by the water. The sun had been up for nearly thirty minutes. Although she didn’t want to leave yet, it was time to head back to the motel. When she arrived…. Paul was gone. She was upset. She had wanted to buy him breakfast for the random act of kindness he’d shown her the night before. Oh well, he was surely in a hurry to start his vacation and had gotten an early start.


[edit on 8/14/2008 by jensouth31]

He located Crab Avenue, and eventually the Terimore. He had reserved
a cottage for the first week. After checking in he made his way to unit #29,
and was delighted to find that it was everything he had hoped it would be.
Two queen size beds, a large living room and dining area, a full kitchen, a
private deck, and a "to-die-for" view of the ocean and bay. He unpacked
his camera first and took shots of the cottage, inside and out. He
unpacked his suitcase and backpack, then headed down to the beach to
take more pictures. He was heady from the feelings of peace and
tranquility that emanated from this little town.

Later, back in the cottage, he sat overlooking the ocean and wrote out a
"to-do" list, which included checking out the town and picking up some
groceries. He drove around looking for a market and parked at last near
the center of town, walking a short distance to the open-air facility.

[edit on 14-8-2008 by SIEGE]

He bought milk and bread and fresh vegetables, meat and seafood from
the deli, and was reaching for the wine when a hand came out of nowhere
and pushed his away. "Please let me, it's the least I can do after the help
you gave me the other night!" She reached up and pulled down two
bottles of White Zinfidel and put them in his cart. It was Lynn, looking just
about as good as a woman could look. Her eyes smiled at him, making him
feel a lttle giddy.
"What are you doing here?", he asked. "I couldn't find you the other
morning but I wanted to talk to you about your car."
"I just got in", she answered. "Had to rent a car." "You heard?"
"Yeah, I heard about it on the morning news. Crazy huh ?"
"It's hard to believe. But if I had stayed in the car until daylight, I'm not
sure I'd be here talking to you right now."

"Have you got a place to stay?", he asked matter-of-factly.
"Not yet, but I know this place like the back of my hand so it won't be
long. Besides, I've got something important I've got to do."
"Well, why don't you come over to where I'm staying and we can cook up
some food, have a glass of wine, and catch up on things before you have
to leave ?" "What do you say?"

She looked at him carefully, then smiled and said yes.

Out on the deck he placed two kebobs on the BBQ, along with a metal bowl
filled with shrimp in a garlic-butter sauce. Together they had made a fresh
tossed green salad, and Lynn was pouring the wine when he went back
inside to get a serving dish. She handed him his glass as she walked out-
side to sit and watch the tide come in, one of her favorite past-times.
Off in the distance, across the bay, there appeared to be a storm headed
their way.
They talked easily with each other, as if they both realized that the other
person really wanted to hear what they had to say. He asked her what
brought her here to Netarts and she explained that she had something to
do for an old friend, a favor if you will. And until she accomplished this
"mission", she didn't feel that she should let her hair down or take it easy.
Paul told Lynn that her friend was lucky to have such a devoted friend.
She thanked him, then gazed out into the ocean until tears rolled down
her cheeks. She wiped them away and took a sip of wine.
Dinner was excellent, although half way through they had to run down-
stairs and out into the rain to put up the top on her rented convertible, a
mad dash to say the least. Back in the kitchen, they toweled off and
finished their meal. He told her about the real reason he was here on
vacation, to find a hidden treasure in one of the local sea caves that his
great uncle had talked about many times. She rolled her eyes and said,
"Yeah, right!"
As much as he tried to convince her that it was the truth, she laughed it off
faster than he could explain, until finally he gave up. "You're just after
some good times and you know it", she teased. She made him laugh.
"Okay, okay, maybe you're right." And he let it go.
The storm had arrived, drenching everything. Paul secured the BBQ on the
deck, then quickly jumped back inside, closing the window doors after him.
As he turned she stepped in close and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank
you sir for such a good meal. And the conversation. It's been awhile since
I've enjoyed both so much."
"Right back at you lady", Paul responded. "You are fun to be with."
"Thank you for coming over."
The talked some more, and then the lights went off, as the wind blew
strongly in from the ocean. Sitting in the dark, listening to the rain patter,
they did nothing but hold hands and talk some more. He asked her if she
had ever heard of sneaker waves, and she asked him if he meant "rogue"
waves. 'Yeah, I guess they'd be about the same, but the sneaker waves
are smaller and come in sets of two or three."
"Why do you want to know about them?", she asked.
"Oh, nothing really, it's just that I heard that the Oregon coast would
experience sneaker waves these next two weeks and I thought it might
help me in my sea cave exploring."
"Still thinking about a treasure aren't you?" she said.
"Maybe", he answered, "maybe."

The lights came back on around 9:30 in the evening, the rain beginning to
let up. Lynn said she had to be going and he walked her down to the car,
asking her if he could see her again when she had completed her 'mission"
of mercy. She said that might be nice, and she'd call him. He kissed her
goodby and off she drove, leaving him wondering what was so bad about
middle-age anyway.

The next morning, Lynn rang Paul asking him to meet her for breakfast at Roseanne's Cafe in Oceanside at nine o’clock. “It’s right along the main strip to the left, you can’t miss it Paul! Oceanside is a tiny town.” When she was done calling, she showered, threw on a pair of black capri’s, a white button down blouse with short sleeves and her flip flops. Then looked in the mirror, thought about putting on some makeup and fixing her hair, and said, “I’m at the beach, I don’t have to work today… seriously Lynn!! To hell with it!” then positioned her sunglasses on top of her head, stuck her bankcard in her pocket, grabbed the coffee & opened the door.

Heading out, she paused briefly on the porch of the little cabin she had rented and looked up at Maxwell Point. “No hand-gliders today! Not yet anyway. There has to be hand gliders or I can’t do it,” she said out loud. She stood there sipping the hot coffee and watching for Paul. She could practically throw a rock and hit Roseanne's. When Paul pulls up she’d start walking. It was breezy, almost perfect conditions for her to be free of the ashes she needed to scatter. See what the day brings…

That barking dog was driving her crazy. Every once in a while she could even visually see him. Funny, Lynn had never believed in ghost before, but now she did. She had to lay this dog to rest so it would stop haunting her. Why in the hell had she promised to bring this damn dog to Maxwell point and scatter his ashes? Once she even dumped the ashes out in her back yard thinking no one would be the wiser, and that night the haunting got worse. So she meticulously collected the ashes back into the vase so she could sleep that night. That’s when she knew she had to get this job done and be free of this damn dog once and for all. The ashes had been with her for almost a year. Lynn had been told that the dog was haunting himself around, but she didn’t believe it! In fact she laughed so hard she nearly wet herself when she heard it. It was all true! The problem had been passed off to her. Next time she hears about a ghost, she’d take it to heart. She looked over; seeing that Paul had just pulled up she started walking in that direction.

“Hola Mr.” she yelled waving…

Nobody eats breakfast at 09:00 in the morning! Paul told himself that over
and over again as he drove up to Roseanne's. Why sunlight had been
burning for hours; did people really get up this late and eat ? He'd been up
since 04:30, run two miles along the beach, shaved, showered, and
studied the tide charts until he finally left to meet Lynn a few minutes ago.
Now he was hungrier than he could remember ever being. He saw her
walking up as he was getting out of the car and she looked so good he
almost changed his mind about what he wanted to eat for breakfast. She
looked clean and fresh and casual and classy all at the same time and as
she got closer he could smell faint whiffs of lavender soap precede her.
"Good morning to you too", he answered. He grabbed her hand and
together they walked on into Roseanne's, where the smells and aromas of
great food overwhelmed them completely.

The coffee was delicious and he drank deeply as he listened to Lynn tell
him about the dog's ashes. Not quite the story you'd like to hear over
breakfast, especially when you were starving, but a very interesting one
never-the-less. The promise to a dying friend seemed to have caused Lynn
undue stress and anguish, but it was also something she meant to see
through to the end. He liked the way she seemed to care about things in
general, and commitments in particular. Loyal to the finish she was !
Breakfast came and they bragged across the table to each other about
whose food was better. He had ordered biscuits and country gravy with
two eggs on the side. She had ordered a strawberry waffle with lots of
whipped cream. They exchanged bites with each other until both agreed
that the other's food was indeed better. So they shared with each other,
drank more delicious coffee together, and laughed until their sides hurt.
People were looking at them now, which just gave them reasons to laugh
harder.

Lynn went on to tell him the sad story within the story about the dog's
ashes. Seems the dog, a black lab, was one of two matching labs owned
by her girlfriend a few years ago. The girlfriend had taken the two dogs to
the beach to run and play, and as they chased each other around, she
went exploring. She found a sea cave and was having a great time when
she slipped and broke her ankle in the rocks. Realizing that the tide was
rising, she knew she had to get out of their soon. She called the dogs and
they both found her quickly. She sent one of the dogs for help and kept
the other with her for company. By the time help arrived the tide was very
high. Ropes were thrown to her and she was dragged to safety, but when
they went back to rescue her dog in the cave, it was too late. The dog
drowned and was washed out to sea. It's mate, the one who went for
help, survived but was never a happy dog after that. When it died, she
vowed to get the dog's ashes back to the last place it was truly happy.
Then, close to dying herself, she made Lynn promise to set things right.

He couldn't remember eating so much for breakfast at 09:00 in the
morning. As they left the restaurant the sun came out and two raiinbows
could be seen if you looked out over the ocean. He watched her when she
wasn't looking and he liked the way she carried herself, the quiet
confidence that graced her every move. How could this good-looking
woman be so intellectual, so fun to be with, so classy, and so single ?
He thanked God for the good fortune to meet her.

Walking back to the truck, Lynn mentioned something about hang gliders
and then said she had something to do and would see him later. A brief
peck on the cheek, a wisp of lavender, and she was gone.

Paul hopped in the truck and drove back to the Terimore. He stopped at
the desk on the way in to see if any messages had come for him and was
told "none so far". However, he was handed a large envelope that had
come in the mail, first-class no less. Back in his room, he opened the
brown envelope to find numerous old maps that appeared to show the
pacific coastline of Oregon and Northern California. A short note
accompanied the maps, from his great uncle. "Pauley, (family joke), I'm
sending you all the maps I was given years ago concerning the shipwreck
and the approximate location of the cave. A couple are very hard to read
so you might need your reading glasses. (you poor young bastard, you).
When I was your age I could see a gnat riding on the back of a flea two
miles away, . .without squinting. Anyway, good luck with your search."
Paul couldn't keep from laughing.

The wreck of the Mimi off the Oregon coast happened many years ago.
The ship was sailing from Peru to Seattle in dense fog. For some reason
the ship's ballast had been tampered with. Fighting sixty foot waves, with-
out proper ballast, in a heavy fog, the ship went down with the loss of all
hands, presumably. Rumor has it that one survivor did make it to land,
where he promptly buried his salvaged chest in a local sea cave. After his
rescue, he tried to tell the townspeople where he had buried the chest,
but died from exposure before he could reveal the exact location.
This was the real reason for Paul's vacation. To relax, of course, to have
fun, of course, but to find something hidden from sight for hundreds of
years that might prove invaluable to historians, . .well that was just above
and beyond as far as he was concerned.

On the back of one of the charts he found a crude, hand-drawn map that
showed three islands. Or, could that be the Three Arch Rocks ?

Paul spent the remainder of the day researching any and all sea caves in the general vicinity of Oceanside. He was a bit surprised as to how many
there were. Some were only accessible at a very low tide, others were
monsterous and well known to the locals. He made a list of ones he would
visit tomorrow.
He returned to studying the tide charts. If indeed Oregon was to be hit with
sneaker waves over the next two weeks, Paul could think of no better time
to be here than now. The sneaker waves would come in and wash away
some of the sand and soil , maybe unearthing buried artifacts and such.
The low tides would grant access to some places that haven't been seen
in years. Together, those two events would hopefully help him find his
great uncle's treasure. You never know !

Early evening found him restless and bored. Lynn apparently wasn't back
from her "mission" yet, either that or she was busy doing other things.
He wished now that he had asked her for her phone number. He made
himself a sandwich and a very cold glass of milk and went out on the deck
to dine. He watched the waves roll in as he ate, and off to the north he
thought he could see whales as well. The sun had set an hour ago and it
was getting dark.
He cleaned up, got dressed, and walked out to his truck. He'd heard about
this place called the Anchor Inn and Grill and thought he'd head over there
to see what was happening. And they had strippers ? He wasn't sure if his
heart could take it but right now his mind said go for it ! What the heck,
I'm on vacation he told himself, and I'm single, so why not ? He usually
didn't care much for that type of atmosphere but a little excitement tonight
might be just what the doctor ordered.
Three beers and one hour later he left, satisfied that he still knew why a
naked woman wasn't quite as sexy to him as one wearing a lacy
nightgown. Probably his age catching up with him. Such is life.
Still bored, he walked over to the service station and bought a pack of
cigarettes. He didn't smoke much anymore, just when he was nervous or
bored. It helped him relax and think better. As he was walking out he
bumped right into a woman who was coming in. She hit against the door,
and continued down to the floor where she sat stunned momentarily. Her
skirt rode above her knees, exposing a nice pair of legs in net stockings.
Her face was red from blushing. Paul's face was red from embarrassment.
He stooped to help her up.
"I'm so sorry", he said, "I wasn't paying attention."
"I wasn't either ", she answered, brushing her clothes back into shape.
"Can I get you anything?", Paul asked. "It's the least I can do."
"I was just coming in to get directions. I'm supposed to meet my girlfriend
at her cabin around here someplace, but I keep driving by it." "Do you
know of any rental cabins near here ?"
"Only the ones down by Roseanne's", Paul replied, and he gave her
directions to get there.

They shook hands in the parking lot and he apologized one more time.
"Don't worry about it", she laughed. "My name's Angela. See you around."
"Got to find my friend now!"

Paul drove back to his cottage, but instead of going inside he went for a
walk down to the beach. He found a big rock to sit on and lit a smoke.
Ahh, to live here all the time !

The next morning he ran again on the beach, showered, then went to the
lobby to get a large coffee with half and half and two sugars. Taking the
coffee back to his cottage, he sat down and began to list everything he
could remember about the shipwreck and the cave's location. Writing his
thoughts down on paper always seemed to help him remember better.

The supposed survivor of the Mimi was found about one-half a mile away
from any known sea cave. Back-tracking, Paul reasoned that the man
probably stumbled away from the cave and walked with his back to the
wind and rain. Sixty percent of the storms come in from the southwest,
moving and blowing in a northeasterly direction. That would mean that the
man made his way north up the beach, with his back to the storm. If he
was found a mile north of Oceanside, then the cave should be a half-mile
south of that, give or take a quarter-mile or so.

He checked his list of known sea caves.

He narrowed it down to a place called Lost Boy Cave, or thereabouts. He
packed a light lunch in his backpack, locked up, and took off for the beach.
He followed a sandy road down to the beach itself, then headed for the
cave. Driftwood cluttered the area, washed in on the endless tides. The
surf was loud, as if complaining to him about his presence here in this
unspoiled seascape. He was mindful of sneaker waves.
The cave was larger than he thought it might be, but the rock ceiling
inside was still wet and that told him that the cave filled up with water two
or three times a day, preventing access. He'd have to make this first
survey quick, so that he'd still have time afterwards to record the lengths
of time it took for the cave to fill, how long it stayed full, and approxi-
mately how long it took to empty.
Walking around inside, he realized that many little sea creatures depended
on this cave for food, and shelter. Seaweed, small crabs, mussels, sea
anemones, barnacles, you name it - they were all here. He laughed out
loud thinking about Lynn's description of the barnacles. "Huge and creepy-
looking." She was right about that ! He wished now he had remembered
to bring his flashlight.
Near the back of the cave was most of the debris, as he figured. Washed
in but not out. He bent down and began to examine the pile. Lost gloves,
plastic bottles, rope, fishnets, a shirt. They had all found their way in from
the sea after god knows how long floating and tossing about. He even
found a couple of dead fish in the pile that were attracting flies like crazy.
An hour went by before he realized that water was beginning to come
back into the cave. Quickly he noted the time, then got out fast. Climbing
up above on the rocks, he sat down and had lunch, watching the cave fill
with the rising tide. He wrote everything down, missing nothing.
Three hours later he headed back to his cottage.
Tomorrow would be even better.

Nighttime brought the wind. Cold, damp winds blew in from the ocean,
dropping the temperature at least fifteen degrees to a chilly fifty-one. Paul
depressed the lite button twice and his fireplace came to life, offering up
warmth and light simultaneously. He sat alone on the couch, the only light
coming from the flames in the fireplace. Listening to the wind howl, and the
surf as it crashed against the rocks below, he drifted off to sleep.

The dog came from nowhere, running full speed to the exact spot where
Paul lay, its snout and teeth inches away from Paul's face. Saliva dripped
from the corners of its mouth and its yellow eyes fixed on Pauls' terrified
frame, daring him to move a muscle. The dog began to howl; a loud, sad,
pitiful wail that begged for attention. As the anguished cry began to fade,
so too did the dog itself, until it disappeared completely, like a ghost. Paul
woke up gasping for air.
The sound of the wind and surf was all he heard now.