The Pier

Oscar

Oscar stood on the rough grass and peered at the ocean in the distance. He felt as though he had never been anywhere else in his whole life. He wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced behind him. A van was sitting idle in the street. Oscar looked upward toward the sun that was beating down on the top of his head. He pulled at his shirt, fanning his sweaty back and chest. A door to the van behind him opened; the coolness of the air conditioning washed over him. A man stepped partially out of the van, staring past him out at the sea. Suddenly Oscar wanted nothing more than to be out of the heat.

"Excuse me, sir?" he said, stepping toward the man. "Would you mind if I sat in the car with you for a few minutes? It is rather hot today."

The man said nothing but continued to hold the door open. He stepped slightly to the side.

"Thank you, I'll only be in for a minute. Then I can be on my way."

Oscar stepped past the man and into the truck. A boy was sitting in the seat behind the driver, so Oscar moved past him and sat in the back row.

"Are you ready to go, dad?" the boy said, nervously scooting back and forth in his seat.

"Yes, yes I am," he replied. "Though I thought for certain I saw something. Never mind that, it must have been the heat playing tricks on me. Off we go."

"Oh, I didn't realize you'd be leaving soon," Oscar said from the backseat. "I don't mean to intrude." Neither the father nor the boy replied. After a few seconds, the boy quietly spoke.

"Before we go, we... we could stop by the pier." The father stopped moving, his eyes glued to the sea. His shoulders tensed for a moment before he turned back to the boy, a sad smile on his face.

"Sure," he said, "we can stop by the pier."

"You could let me off there," Oscar said, unsure of exactly why he wanted to go. "I wouldn't want to interrupt your time together."

"The pier it is!" said the boy, a bit more chipper than he had been before. The father grunted and pulled out of the parking lot. Oscar sat, unspeaking, for the drive. As the ocean approached, his unease rose with the tide. Again, he felt as though he'd been no where else, only here. Only by the beach.

What am I doing here?  he thought to himself. How did I get here?

Soon the father pulled off into a parking spot by the pier. He turned off the car. The sun was setting over the waves now, the purple and red hues spilling into the sea at the horizon. The son opened the door and left it open, running toward the pier. The father huffed and gripped the wheel, staring out ahead.

"Thanks for the ride, sir," Oscar said as he scooted out of his seat and out the door the boy had left open. He started toward the pier. After a few steps, he glanced back at the man in the car. He could see tears streaming down the man's face through the glass. Oscar turned, his brow furrowed, back toward the beach. He started walking again. After a few minutes, he caught up to the boy. There was an older woman in a small shack beside the pier that he was talking to.

"Alright, it was good seeing you, Alice," he said, smiling at the woman.

"It was good seeing you, too," she said, peering out at the van. "Tell your father we miss him. And we miss her, too. She was always so kind to us when she came out to visit. She was a very kind woman."

The boy didn't speak for a few seconds.

"Yes she was," he replied finally, turning to walk back to the car.