Chapter 1: Down by the Seaside

Part I: The Nameless Duánaí

The Sea, once she casts her spell, holds one in her net of wonder forever.

- J.Y.C.

Thump, thump, thump, thump...

“Turn that crap off!” I yelled at the guy in my dream.

I rolled around in bed for a minute before figuring out that I wasn’t dreaming. Something really was pulsing my room like a cheesy dance club. As the sleep evaporated from my eyes, I caught sight of my sneakers on the floor beside my bed. Since they were within arm’s reach, one of the shoes ended up flying across the room. It was a useless effort, though. The shoe struck the wall right in time with the music, adding just a little more oomph to the downbeat. It also left a dark gray mark on the white paint that I’d have to clean off.

“Lara ... Fuck!” I grumbled in annoyance.

I glanced at the alarm clock. It was an ungodly hour to be roused. I lay in bed for a few more seconds, hoping that the pounding would miraculously stop. It didn’t. Finally I gave up and threw the covers aside in disgust. Gritting my teeth, I stomped down the hall, pulling up at Lara’s door.

“Hey! Lara!” I yelled as I banged on it.

My sister was blasting her new Madonna Like a Prayer cassette. It was a birthday present Aunt Beth had given her the previous night, shortly after we’d arrived at their house for our annual vacation. My tastes ran toward Led Zeppelin and Hendrix, so most of the music from the current decade made me want to throw up, especially so early in the morning. Fortunately, the eighties would become history in six months. The music only seemed to grow more annoying as I knocked again. Six long months.

There was no answer, so after a moment’s hesitation I turned the handle. The volume tripled as the door opened into the bright room. The morning sun and sea air invaded my still sleepy brain, adding to the aggravation.

“What the hell, Lara?” I shouted, squinting my eyes as I stepped in. “If you didn’t notice, I was trying to—Oh ... Hey, Julie. I didn’t know you were here.”

Lara and her friend were sitting on the floor in their bathing suits, staring up at me. I was suddenly aware of my own near-nakedness as I stood there in just my boxers. I shifted uncomfortably as Julie gave a little wave.

“Hi Matt!” she yelled over the music.

She grinned slightly as her gaze inadvertently drifted down my body, making me wonder if my boxers were betraying me. I didn’t dare draw further attention to my middle by checking, though.

“Don’t you knock?” Lara asked. “We could’ve been changing or something!”

“I did knock, but you obviously couldn’t hear it with all this noise!”

“What?” she called out, her hand to her ear.

Evidently my attempt to keep my voice deep didn’t carry over the music. I stepped to the boom box and turned it down. Much lower than necessary, but I was trying to make a point.

“I said I knocked, but you couldn’t hear it with this crap playing so loud!”

“Crap?” Lara tittered. “Big words coming from someone who just last year asked to borrow my True Blue album.”

Julie giggled as my sister reached for the radio and upped the volume again.

“What are you talking about?” I shot back. “That was like three years ago, and it ... it was for a school thing.” Since I had to raise my voice over the music again, it came out sounding rather desperate.

“Whatever! That’s why you played it like a hundred times a day.”

“No, I didn’t, so shut up,” I retorted. As a flush of heat rose through my neck, I started wishing that I’d stayed in bed and endured the racket after all. “What are you doing with my tape player, anyway?”

Lara rolled her eyes. “Um, we’re sharing it on this trip? Remember? There wasn’t room for mine in the car?”

I waved aside that technicality. “Fine. But it was in my room last night.”

“And I went in and grabbed it this morning. It’s not like you were using it, since you were sleeping,” she explained patiently.

I gave her an arch look. Lara just grinned back impishly.

“I guess I’ll get some breakfast, since sleeping is obviously out,” I muttered.

“Go for it. We already ate. And close the door, will you? I don’t want Mom to come and tell me to turn it down!”

Lara finally let out the laugh she’d obviously been holding in. It was good-natured, but I didn’t feel like lightening up. Julie just eyed me, her face a mix of mirth and ... sympathy?

I turned quickly, slamming the door shut as I left. Back in my room, I cracked open one of the shades and checked the mirror from several angles. To my relief, my boxer shorts were well-behaved. If I’d known Julie was in there I would’ve put on a shirt and some shorts. My latest growth spurt had left me tall and thin. I had my dad’s sharp-cut looks and olive skin, but I didn’t quite have his powerful build. Those who had known my dad when he was alive told me that I had his body, but I didn’t think I was anything like the broad-chested and well-proportioned man in the pictures we had back home. I sighed. It didn’t matter how much I ate or worked out, I couldn’t keep up with the vertical growth.

The music grew louder, so I left my thrumming room after throwing on some shorts and a long-sleeved shirt. As I passed Lara’s door, I considered pounding on it just to return some of the annoyance she’d caused me, but since Julie was in there I decided against it. I’d already acted foolish by barging in there practically naked. No need to be childish in front of her as well, I thought.

I trudged out to the kitchen, still plagued by the incessant drum beats and synthesizers. As I absently scanned the food in the fridge, I debated whether to eat some breakfast or simply leave the house for a while.

I could hear Aunt Beth telling a story. I peeked through the kitchen pass-through window that opened onto her enclosed porch. This space was the prime spot to hang out at my aunt’s place, since the wall of windows provided a full panorama of the ocean. As expected, my parents were sitting out there, listening to her gab as they sipped golden tea and ate crumpets. The adults seemed oblivious to the music.

Since my father died when I was very young, ‘my parents’ refers to Sarah Birch and Melissa Jackson. Sarah is my mother by blood, and Melissa is Lara’s mother; both Lara and I share the same father. Although the fact that Lara and I were born six days apart suggests some sort of weird infidelity on my dad’s part, the truth is that Lara and I both had three parents until some drunk woman ran Chris off the highway one night.

Sarah, Melissa, and he fell in love in the heyday of the late sixties. After securing a committed relationship between the three of them, they extended that love into parenthood. When Lara and I were born in the summer of 1975, our parents moved away from the hustle of New York City where my dad had a wildly successful business in art and antiques. They took Lara and me to the quiet and secluded Catskill Mountains, about three hours north of the city. Four days out of the week, my dad stayed in his New York apartment for work, and then he made the drive home for the weekend.

He was thirty years old when he started his final commute. It was a quick death, by all accounts. Because Lara and I were only a few years old when it happened, we have no recollection of him or that period. By the time I emerged from my childhood fog, my father’s passing was a wound that had already been healing for a while. After a court date, a sizeable settlement was offered by the drunk woman’s lawyer, and somehow Melissa convinced him to double it. Between that windfall, the proceeds from my dad’s business and life insurance, and a sizeable monthly rental check from his New York apartment, Sarah and Melissa were able to raise Lara and me while only having to work part time.

(I call both of my parents ‘Mom’ as does Lara, and it’s the inflection in our tone that always distinguishes which parent we mean. Since that spoken nuance eludes the written word, I refer to them by first name here, as needed, but I do so with all the respect and love conferred by ‘Mom’.)

My stomach growled loudly, spurring me out of my thoughts. There was a slight chance I could get one of the adults to force Lara turn down her music, so I stepped through the doorway that led out onto the porch. The three women greeted me, smiling cheerily.

“Do you hear that?” I asked, gesturing in the direction of Lara’s room.

Aunt Beth smiled innocently. “Hear what?”

I groaned. “Great, no sympathy out here. It’s your fault, you know.”

My parents chuckled as my aunt smiled at me. “Sorry,” she offered.

“You got a good amount of sleep in,” Sarah noted, checking her watch.

“Not really.”

“Do you want me to fix you something special for breakfast?” Melissa asked. “Pancakes?”

It was a tempting remedy for my foul mood, since she worked as the head chef at a ski resort. Meals at my house were always delicious. After a moment of thought I rejected her offer, preferring to remain dour. I returned to the kitchen and served myself a pitiful bowl of cereal and milk with a side dish of bass drum.

My uncle came in through the front door of the house just as I sat down at the table.

“Morning, Matt,” he called out as he stashed his tennis bags in the closet.

“Oh, hey, Hans.”

“Been out in the waves yet?”

“Nah. Just woke up. I had trouble sleeping this morning, for some reason.”

Hans glanced at Lara’s door as he passed the hallway. “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he agreed, smiling.

“Well, get used to it,” I said sardonically. “You’re probably going to be hearing a lot of that over the next three weeks.”

Hans laughed. “I’m afraid you’re right. Oh, and I had nothing to do with Lara’s present, just so you know!”

I grunted, knowing Hans was a serious classic rock fan. “I figured as much. Already done teaching tennis lessons for the day?”

He held up a finger as he gulped down a tall glass of water. “No, I have a few more victims this afternoon. The ladies wanted me to run into town and get some fish for lunch.” He peered out through the kitchen window at them for a moment. When he turned back to me, he was grinning and spoke in a quieter voice. “You know, since they’re so busy and all.”

I laughed a little.

“Want to come to the market with me?” he asked.

I considered the offer. “Thanks, but I’m still waking up. I think I’ll hang here.”

Hans nodded as Aunt Beth came in from the porch.

“I heard that comment,” she said to him, arching a brow.

“Even over this noise?” he snarked, winking at me.

She swatted him on the arm. “Oh, come on. You played loud music when you were fourteen, too.”

“How would you know? You didn’t know me back then,” he protested.

“No, but your sister did. Sarah was just telling us about the time she walked in to your room and watched you play air guitar in your underwear for ten minutes before you noticed her. You were quite the acrobat apparently.”

Hans glanced at me, his grin withering fast. “Well—That was—”

My aunt watched him flail his words about for a moment and then nodded. “Mm hmm. That’s what I thought.”

Beth wrote down a couple of ingredients on a piece of paper. Melissa came into the kitchen to check if there was cilantro. When my aunt handed the completed list to Hans, he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think I need a list just for three items,” he protested.

Being sisters, Beth and Melissa often shared identical facial expressions, including the dubious looks they now gave Hans.

On his way out the door, he grinned at me. “You’re probably going to be seeing a lot of that over the next few weeks,” he quipped, echoing my earlier statement.

The two women ignored his comment, despite the goading looks he sent their way. After my uncle departed for the market, Melissa neared the dining table where I was lazily eating my breakfast.

“Feeling better, sweetie?” she asked, laying a sympathetic hand on my shoulder.

I shrugged. “Still a little tired.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Nah, thanks. I’m all right, Mom.”

She and Beth returned to the porch with some more pastries. I tried to regain my surly disposition, hoping to showcase it for Lara when she emerged from her room. After a few minutes, though, I let go of the act. It wasn’t the end of the world after all. I was even getting a little used to the background noise, I had to admit.

As I took my last bite of cereal, the music stopped abruptly in mid-song. My heart was still pounding, remembering the pulse of the drums, but the long phrases of crashing waves soon seeped into the sudden silence. The swish and roar of the sea quickly repaired the sonic wounds. Peace, at last.

After washing my bowl in the sink, I walked out through the porch and down the flight of stairs that led to the beach. My aunt and uncle’s house was situated on the sands near the town of Montauk, a small fishing village on the tip of Long Island, New York. I wasn’t overly fond of scratchy sand and salty water, but it was still pretty cool to spend a few weeks of every summer right on the ocean.

Standing on the bottom step, I gazed out at the sea, shielding my eyes from the bright morning sun. The Atlantic stretched out endlessly before me, her rebellious waves filling me with a mix of emotions. Despite visiting my aunt and uncle for as long as I could remember, the sight of the ocean after a year away was always somewhat overwhelming. The endless muffled roar and the diamantine sparkle of sunlight from the tips of chaotic whitecaps made me feel at once lonely and hopeful. What’ll this summer bring? What—

The screen door behind me clattered open, shattering the calm.

“Come on, Matt! We’re going to the beach,” Lara announced, as she and Julie bounced down the wooden steps with entirely too much zeal.

“Nah, I’m too tired,” I replied petulantly, quickly recouping my act.

“Oh, you’re such a wuss. It’s after nine o’clock! We’ve been up for like two hours already.”

“Well, I need my sleep. Otherwise I get grumpy.”

“Pfft ... Obviously! See you later then.”

They squeezed by me and jumped down onto the sand, giggling. I watched as they ran toward the water. So much for making her feel bad, I thought. Then again, it was after nine.

For more than a few minutes I entertained the idea of going after Lara and Julie. Eventually I decided I wasn’t quite ready for the exertion of swimming in what appeared to be sizeable waves. Nor was I quite ready for the effort of defending my sudden change of mind, so soon after rejecting Lara’s invitation.

I decided to go fishing instead. Hans had kindly picked up some bait the previous day, knowing how much I enjoyed going down to the pier to angle for pan fish. After gathering my gear from our car and letting my parents know my plans, I struck out along the sand.

There’s just something about fishing, be it in a stream, lake, or ocean. Some people like to curl up with a cup of tea, or read a good book, or watch the sunrise; they use that time to think and to appreciate the moment. I love fishing for those same reasons. It’s meditative. There’s nothing quite like standing in a creek at sunset, casting a fly into a deep pool, listening to nature and breathing in life.

Whenever I was in Montauk, my fishing spot of choice was a long jetty that swept out over the ocean. While the fish I tended to catch there were of the small pan variety, they still tasted good. The pier was only sparsely populated when I arrived. I walked the long stretch out to the end, finding that I had the entire section past the weathered gazebo all to myself. I soon had the line prepped and cast out into the waves. It was still a few hours before lunchtime, so I settled into my chair.

I tried to relax out of my funk, but the remnant of my irritation changed over into embarrassment as I relived the morning’s events. Surely Julie thought I was ridiculous. She hadn’t made much effort to hide her giggling when I was standing there in my underwear. I didn’t care about Lara seeing me like that; the two of us were pretty immodest around each other in private. But Julie? She’d been Lara’s best friend in Montauk since forever, but my interactions with her had always been minimal. That our first meeting this year came under such awkward circumstances made my face heat up again. I wondered what they were saying about me as they lay on the beach. Giggling was surely involved.

An hour and a bucketful of pan fish later, I started regretting my choice of a long-sleeve shirt. It was getting too hot even with the sleeves rolled up. When I caught sight of someone walking past the gazebo with their fishing gear in hand, I started packing up. Ever since some old dog talked my ear off for two hours about politics the year before, I tried to avoid unsolicited fishing companions. If I wanted to hear incessant talking, I could return home and listen to my aunt and mothers go on all day long.

“Any luck?” came the voice, as I was kneeling before my gear.

I looked up, startled to find a cute girl in overalls smiling down at me. Maybe an uninvited fishing companion wouldn’t be so bad after all.

I stood up all at once, in the process kneeing my bucket and sending it tumbling. A jet of water splashed toward the girl. She nimbly dodged it as my fish scattered over the deck and started flopping around.

“Oh, crap! Sorry,” I blurted out, scrambling for the escapees. Idiot!

“I take that to be a yes,” she remarked, laughing. “You didn’t have to show me like that, though!”

The girl grabbed for the desperate fish too. We gathered them up, but not before half of them had fallen through the cracks between the planks and back to their home. For the third time that day my face started to prickle.

“Well, there goes lunch,” I muttered, half to myself. I felt stupid as I put the last fish in the pail and stood up again, more carefully this time.

“You can get some more,” she suggested.

I peered down at the fish we’d salvaged. Lacking water now, their gills heaved as they struggled to breathe. I could sympathize with that feeling.

“I guess. It’s getting hot though.”

“Probably because you’re in a long-sleeved shirt.”

“Yeah, well ... It was cooler when I got here.”

I started busily cleaning my fishing rod. I rarely cleaned my pole, but suddenly it seemed vitally important. When she didn’t reply, I looked up at her.

Her eyes! They were alight with laughter. There was so much life in them! I stared for a second, or more, before I realized what I was doing. I turned my attention back to my tackle.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” she said, baiting her hook as she set up nearby.

“That’s because I don’t live here. Just on vacation. I got here last night.”

“From where?”

“The Catskills. It’s in upstate New York?”

“I know. I go skiing up there a lot.”

“That’s cool.”

There was an awkward silence as she cast out her line. I finished packing up my stuff and stood there, considering the situation as I pretended to scan the ocean for something unseen. Now that the angler had turned out to be a cute girl, I really wanted to stay. But I’d just made a show of putting all my gear away. It would look ridiculous to unpack and start fishing again. Ridiculous, and unduly obvious as to why I’d changed my mind.

“I have to go,” I said quickly. “Good luck!”

“Always!” she replied.

I waited for a few seconds, hoping she would turn so I could see her eyes once more, but I didn’t have luck. I picked up my gear and walked back to my aunt’s house. The whole way there, I berated myself for not staying. I cringed every time I thought of knocking the bucket over and almost getting her wet.

Hans had the grill going when I returned to the house. My fish were a welcomed addition to the striped bass steaks he was preparing. I left out the part about losing half of my catch. As I helped set the table, I was lost in thought, replaying the pier scene over and over. Several times, the adults had to get my attention, yanking me back to the present.

The pan fish were tasty but hardly more than an appetizer, given their diminished numbers. Regardless, Hans stuffed himself with fish and potatoes. He ate like a pig, but was very trim, a benefit of being a tennis pro. His and Sarah’s ancestry (and thus partly mine) was German and Norwegian, and they both looked it. Sarah was statuesque. She had the same green eyes and blonde hair as Hans, although the sinewy toughness of her brother was well tempered by the curves that come from female genes.

Melissa was chatting with Aunt Beth. Their twin pairs of eyes always seemed like they were hiding some mischief, and usually they were. Lara had the same impishness in her eyes, though she looked more like our father, with jet black hair and round eyes.

Julie joined us for lunch. She and Lara were deep in conversation, so I took the opportunity to observe her a bit more. I’d avoided meeting her eyes in Lara’s room that morning, so I hadn’t noticed that she’d really matured since our previous trip. Her sandy-blonde hair was now shoulder length and framed her face in a good way, I thought. Last year’s young appearance and somewhat gangly body had now filled out in the right places. I took in her pretty features for a few moments.

“Earth to Matt!” Aunt Beth called. She glanced at Julie and then at me again. “Pass the potatoes, please?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.

How long was I staring? Luckily, Julie hadn’t noticed.

The next morning I awoke early. After a long night of reliving my clumsiness with both Julie and the girl on the pier, I decided to go fishing again to see what might happen. I rushed out of the house with my tackle, ignoring my moms’ calls of “Did you eat anything?”

By seven-thirty, I’d settled into my chair and started mulling over what I would do if she showed up again. A bunch of scenarios that seemed really dorky were all that came to mind. Eventually, I decided to play it by ear.

About an hour later I saw someone approaching from the foot of the pier. Part of me was excited, but the other part wanted to dive into the water and hide. As I peered down the length of boards, I soon realized it was an old man. Reluctantly, I decided to head out in case it was Mr. Talkative from last year. It was a good decision, because the guy set up near me and started to chat even as I packed up. I soon excused myself.

As I made my way back to shore, I glanced ahead and felt like screaming. The girl was walking toward the pier! I cursed to myself.

“Hey,” she greeted, stopping near me. “How was the fishing?”

“Uh, it was all right.”

I tipped the bucket and let her peek in. I had about twelve fish.

“Well, that should be enough for one or two,” she remarked.

I frowned. “Nah, they’re pretty big. It’ll feed more than that.”

“Well, if you make it home with all of them, then yeah,” she joked, suppressing her laugh only after half of it tickled my ears.

I felt a blush spreading over my face. “Thanks a lot,” I muttered, staring at the deck.

“No, no! I was just teasing you.” She peered in the pail again, this time nodding very seriously. “That’s a good catch.”

“Okay.”

“Well, I better get them while they’re out,” she chirped, heading down the planks. “Bye!”

I stared after her. So much for the cool dialogue I’d hoped for. I was tempted to call out after her, but my throat wouldn’t make any sound. Finally, I sighed and made the walk home, feeling something in my heart I’d never felt before.

The next two days sucked. I went to the pier both mornings and even though I hung around for hours and caught more fish than usual, she never showed up. I was still hopeful of seeing her again, but frustration was setting in. Why hadn’t I asked her name? Asked if we could hang out? Asked a million other questions? I knew nothing about her. I’d just grunted out two word answers to everything she said!

“Matt, are you okay?” Melissa asked me on the afternoon after my second pier-girl no-show.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I shrugged. I was slouched on the porch couch, staring out at the waves. My guitar was propped in the corner, having been played only for a few minutes.

“You seem preoccupied.”

“I’m okay. Really.”

“You haven’t been out on the beach this year. Is the water too cold?”

“I guess,” I shrugged.

She gave me a long look. I fidgeted with my guitar pick.

“If there’s anything wrong, you can always talk to me, right?”

“I know, Mom. I’m fine though. Just ... tired. Or bored, I guess.”

“Bored? Go for a swim with Lara and Julie then. I’m sure they’d love to jump in the waves.”

“Maybe.”

“They’re down there now,” she added, gesturing to the beach.

“I know. I’m just going to chill here for a while.”

“Okay, sweetie. Have some fun while we’re here, okay?”

“I will,” I muttered.

Luckily she let it go at that. How could she help anyway?

For the first time in my life, fishing suddenly didn’t have the same appeal. Rather than enjoying the experience, I was constantly glancing down the length of the pier hoping to spot the girl’s approach. The empty stretch of weathered boards or the sight of a young couple strolling down to the gazebo only made me feel lonelier.

The day after my third session of fishing in solitude, I woke up late and found myself venturing down to the shoreline instead. Perhaps my mom’s words had sunk in. Julie and Lara were face down on their towels, bronzing in the late morning sun. My quiet arrival went unnoticed, so I picked up some dry sand and sprinkled a bit onto Lara’s back. At first, there was no reaction. Then she swatted awkwardly at an imagined fly. Finally, her head turned toward me as she realized that it was some special kind of annoyance.

“Matt! What the hell?” she blurted out.

I laughed, but not before I dodged a fistful of beach tossed in my direction. Julie watched us with amusement.

“Thanks a lot,” Lara hissed as she rose to her feet. She eyed me pointedly. “Now the sand is stuck to my suntan lotion.”

She was futilely trying to brush the offending prank from her back. I sniggered and then reached over to assist her.

“Oh, don’t bother,” she snapped, swatting my hand away.

I shrugged. “Just trying to help.”

Lara gave me a frown. “Next time, you can help by not putting sand on me!”

“Whatever.”

“Why aren’t you fishing?” Julie asked me.

I shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it. Too hot, I guess.”

“You should take a swim then.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I have to get in the water now,” Lara huffed. “Come on, let’s swim a bit.”

Julie hopped up and the three of us walked down the warm sand to the sea’s edge. The first wave that washed over our feet elicited a shriek from the girls.

“Cold!”

“Haven’t you been in yet today?” I asked.

“No, not yet,” Julie answered.

“We were trying to get some tanning in,” Lara drawled dramatically.

“And I was trying to get some sleep in, the other day,” I retorted.

“Oh, give it up, Matt!” Lara cried. “That was like a week ago.”

She splashed me by kicking at the froth of a receding breaker. The spray hit me full across the middle, and indeed, the water was cold. I promptly waded in, deciding to act brave.

“It’s nice,” I called out as I sunk into the swells and pushed out to deeper waters.

After they exchanged a few words I couldn’t hear, the girls ventured in, hesitating with each wave that reached for them. I found myself watching Julie whenever her attention was focused on the ocean. She was cute, turning her back to the approaching breakers and holding her hands open at her sides as if she could stop the water before it splashed higher on her body. These repeated glances at her bikini-clad form quickly became addictive. A few times I found myself caught by her brown eyes as she glanced me. I had to wrench my gaze away.

Eventually the girls were deep enough to get caught by a larger swell that soaked them. The ice finally broken, they waded out nearer to me, just past where the waves began to curl into white tops.

“I don’t think I’ll be in here very long,” Julie said after a minute.

“Yeah,” Lara agreed. “I think the sand is off me now.”

“It’s not that bad,” I said, even though I was freezing too. “You just need to keep moving to stay warm.”

I waded closer to Lara, who gave me a suspicious look.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You want to jump?”

Lara was still wary, even though it was something we usually did when we swam. She glanced at Julie. “We’re not ten anymore, Matt.”

I was somewhat stung by the reply, but I just shrugged it off. “All right.”

“I’ll do it,” Julie said after a moment.

My insides lurched. Despite secretly hoping for this chance, I felt nervous as she swam toward me. She put her foot in my intertwined hands and steadied herself by holding my shoulders. With a heave, she flew into the air, limbs flailing, and landed awkwardly in the water. She came up spluttering and Lara and I both laughed.