Polaroids and Postcards | ✔️

Chapter 15: Sunrises + Surprises

"We wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment." – Hilaire Belloc

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My first thought upon waking up was why did I fall asleep in the car again? My body was obviously screaming at me, throbbing and cramping in places I never even knew existed. Cracking open my eyes, I suddenly discovered that my face was smushed up against the glass of the passenger-seat window, and not a greasy diner countertop where I had found myself quite recently and half-expected to end up again.

I cracked my knuckles and stretched as hard as I dared, accidentally bumping the roof of Della's convertible with my hands.

Wasn't the top down when we went to sleep last night?

I was confused for about five seconds, but then recognized that Della must've just put it back up while I was sleeping. Speaking of Della, I realized that she was actually nowhere to be found. Her seat was vacant, her phone was missing, and the keys were still in the ignition.

For two seconds, the awful thought of stealing the Beetle and speeding away to California on my own crossed my mind, but I quickly snapped out of it. I couldn't leave Della behind.

But where had she gone?

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, trying to focus on the scene before me, through the windshield. There was some light seeping in—pale, but enduring. As I focused closer, the sun rose, casting a dusty pink hue over the vast ocean of blue. My eyesight grew clearer, and I made out a small figure hovering near the water's edge. I theorized for half a minute about who it might be, but then the figure turned just right and the sunbeams caught the lilac shine in their hair. The was no question in my mind anymore.

Of course she's awake before me again. Gosh, does she know what REM cycles are?

I sat up straighter in the passenger seat to study Della from the car, watching her tiny figure move across the sand. The wind gusted through her hair, carrying strands of it in all different directions. There was a rhythm to her movements—back and forth... Was she dancing? No, she was marching. Or maybe pacing? Yes, pacing. But for what purpose?

I squinted in order to get a better view. The only thing I gained from that was a blurrier picture in my head. Once I realized how creepy this whole situation seemed, I decided to stop being weird and simply approach her. Never mind the fact that it was only 6:23 in the morning & we were on an eerily empty beach. Just a totally normal way to start the day.

I calmly opened the door, slid out of the Beetle, and firmly shut the door behind me, jumping a little as I heard the dull thud of the it making contact with the car again. I didn't want the sound to startle Della or distract her from whatever it was she was doing. She seemed pretty intent on it, whatever it was.

The cool sand ran between my toes once more, sending a happy quiver down my spine. I thoroughly liked the beach when it was like this—quiet and simple. It was unbelievably soothing, and it brought me the calm I hadn't thought I needed.

People had always said that I was too uptight about everything, but in my way of thinking—no one else took life seriously enough. But after being there on the beach, with Della, traveling the road with literally nothing... well. Maybe that way of living wasn't quite so bad as I thought.

As I drew nearer to my companion, I could finally see what she was doing. She was indeed pacing as I had assumed—but it was being done rather anxiously. In one hand was her glittery cell phone, and the other hand waved around wildly as she spoke into the phone. I couldn't quite hear what she was saying from where I stood. Each time she spoke, the rush of the waves and the breeze snatched her words away. All I could gather was that she was very agitated.