Sandcastles and Frisbees

By: Kenny Johnson. A daydreamer, perpetrating as an aspiring writer, leaving a trail of ink from Jersey to Los Angeles. He has something to say. Let’s see if you can relate.

Not only was the beach packed, but the sun seemed to have laid its blanket down directly in front of us. I’m talking lawsuit for spilling your McDonald’s coffee on yourself hot. With the sun hovering like a little sister, it wasn’t long before the ocean called my name and I had to take a dip. We were with a few chicks, and one of them accompanied me to the water.

We’d met about two weeks ago, but this was the first time we’d actually got to kick it. We walked toward the water and she asked why I didn’t have a girlfriend. I told her there was a range of reasons, but right now, “It takes time to build something and I haven’t found anyone to help me lay bricks.” She looked at me puzzled, but her confusion dissipated just as our toes touched the water. “The water is nice,” she responded. I smiled and grabbed her like I was going to dunk her under. She screamed and we shared a laugh as I let her go.

As we stood and talked at the water’s edge, I noticed two small children not far from us. A boy and a girl, both no older than 7. The girl had her back turned and the boy was building a sandcastle. Rather, I should say, he was creating one. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a kid pay so much attention to detail. He was using seashells to sculpt windows and various designs into his castle. It was shaping up, but for all the progress he made, a little was stripped away from his sand masterpiece as the ocean waves tumbled into the shore. This only added to the time of its completion and the queen of his castle was starting to get quite impatient. “How much longer Jimmy? I want to show everyone,” the little girl said. “Almost there, “ he said. He got up and grabbed another seashell. While he was gone, another boy came by. He was carrying a bright orange Frisbee he had purchased on the boardwalk.

Jimmy returned to his project with the seashell and put the finishing touches on his sandcastle. He wrote the name ‘Jennifer’ under it. “Okay, now all the castle needs is its queen,” he said. He looked up to see that Jennifer had moved down the beach and was playing Frisbee with the new boy. I watched his face as joy turned to sadness and disappointment. He picked up his bucket, cocked it back, and aimed it at his sandcastle. I caught his arm before it came crashing down. “Chill,” I said. He looked at me, and I pointed to where he had written her name in the sand. We both watched as the ocean rolled in and washed her name away. I took the seashell from his hand and wrote ‘Jimmy’ in the sand. I handed him back the seashell and gave him some dap. He smiled.

The girl I was with jumped on my back as the kid turned back to his work. “You know that kid?” she asked. “I do now,” I responded. As I carried her back to our spot on the beach, she asked, “Do you want to play Frisbee?”