A Beachy Law-Breaking Night

When we were in our early twenties, my husband and I were down by Carmel, California spending a day on the Carmel Beach. There was a little breakfast place in Carmel we would frequent that had omelets as big as footballs. With one of those tucked into your stomach for breakfast, you could go almost all day without another meal. We had packed a cooler with drinks and some meat to grill over a fire, just in case.

We had met friends there, and we played frisbee and listened to music and spent the day in and out of the sun. The water was always too cold for my liking, but Billy and our friends managed to swim. I could only walk in about waist deep and that was it for me. I had been raised on trips to the warm waters of the Atlantic, and this violent, cold Pacific intimidated me.

Billy was a California transplant, but had lived here most of his life. He had done so many adventurous things, like traveling in a van to Oregon with his friends at age 16. They regularly camped on these trips and took a canoe down any nearby rivers. They would take off and drive to Reno even though they were underage, and he had many brushes with the law, mostly over curfew violations. They hiked at Mount Diablo, swam in the reservoirs (illegally), and spent countless days and nights at the beach. Billy was older now and not a reckless kid anymore. But I wanted to do something a little adventurous. So I asked him if we could spend the night on the beach. It was illegal, but the chances of getting caught were very slim, especially if we stayed at a more secluded beach.

We packed up and moved up to a secluded beach when our friends left to go home. I wish I could remember which beach, or even if it had a name. I believe it was Asilomar State Beach. We waited until we had watched the sun set, then set off across the sand in the dark, which was very unsettling. We had a little tent, and Billy managed to get it up so hopefully it wouldn’t fall on us during the night. We cozied in, got comfortable, and left the tent open toward the water, which we could see after our eyes adjusted. We slept with the waves rushing in against the shore endlessly, curled into each other, warm and happy.

We awoke very early, but the sun was already up. Quickly, Billy took down the tent and we sat on the sand while our brains came back to life. We learned rather quickly that sand is tricky and it is very resourceful, and it gets everywhere. Everywhere. I felt sticky, sweaty, sandy and uncomfortable!

I looked around, and there was no one in sight. We had got away with our law-breaking night.

“Well, you can say you’ve slept on the beach,” Billy said, smiling at me. I kissed him.

“Yes, I can. It’s kind of awful. Can we go get some coffee?”

“Yes,” he said, laughing. We carried our stuff up to the car and never slept on the beach again. But it was a little adventure, and I am glad we did it.

#FFFC

Melissa’s Fandango Flash Fiction Challenge #313