A short story by Lary Crews
David had noticed her. She was alone. He was in his regular spot, doing close-up magic with coins and cards at D'Amelio's Lounge in Clearwater Beach.
She was small-boned and tan with chocolate brown eyes and a smile full of tenderness. Her hair fell to her shoulders in cascades of light brown and streaked blonde. She sat at the bar with a Scotch sour in front of her.
David held nothing but air in the shape of cards near her slim hands and asked her to pick a card. She laughed, a light, airy wind chime of a sound.
She chose the invisible card. He asked her to turn it over and replace it in the invisible deck. She did. When he produced a real deck with just one card overturned, she waited in wonder. When she turned it over to find it was the same as the invisible card she had chosen, she gazed at him in delight and rapture.
"You're wonderful," she said. "How did you do that?"
"It's done with mirrors," he said, with a smile.
"Do another. Please."
He put four silver dollars through a solid table one by one.
She applauded and smiled.
He vanished a card and made it reappear in her purse, wrapped in paper.
She laughed with delight.
Closing time.
She said, "Will you walk on the beach with me?
“What?”
“Walk on the beach?”
He agreed; anything to be near her, so electric was her presence.
Together, they walked out into the early morning coolness. David glanced up at a brightly lit palm tree. Less than fifty feet away, the dark but living Gulf of Mexico beat a steady rap on the impossibly white sand. The only sounds at two in the morning were air conditioners, an occasional car and sea gulls who couldn't sleep.
She came only to his shoulder when she stood close, holding his arm, as she did while taking off her sandals. David kicked off his loafers and removed his socks and carried them in his left hand, feeling awkward as hell.
"I'm from Ohio," she told him. "Little town called Wooster."
"What's it near?" He wanted to hear her voice again.
"Nothing." She looked straight into his eyes, without fear.
"What's your name?"
"Catherine. Catherine Daniel."
His tie was tight. He loosened it. "I'm David Miranda."
"I know. I saw it on the sign.”
She held his hand as they walked along on the smooth wet sand and let the waves wash in over their toes. They sat on a concrete bench and talked.
David tried to express his sincerity. She seemed trusting and relaxed. He wanted to assure her, but she seemed self-assured. He didn't want to see the sun rise. He prayed for everlasting life, or at least another hour.
Finally, she rose, took his hand, and took him to the shadowy wooden pier. She turned to look up into his eyes. Her face in the moonlight was beautiful.
"You're beautiful," he said.
"I'm just okay."
"No, you're beautiful," he insisted.
She held both his hands in hers and pulled gently, just enough that he leaned toward her face. She kissed him. Her lips were soft, blending into an embrace full of warmth and tenderness.
He was relieved to discover tenderness could still reach his hollow heart.
"I’ll never see you again,” she said. “You know that, right?”
“I’m sorry.”
She touched his lips. “Don’t be sorry. Just remember that something magic happened on the beach this morning and, for once, you were the one who was amazed.”
She kissed him one more time.
Copyright © 2011 Lary Crews
All rights reserved.
