get me a soda ...

We couldn't go swimming for days after the airplane crash. We were told there might be body parts floating around; fingers, toes, who knows what. People stood around the edge of the water as it lapped at their feet asking questions of men in uniforms. The edge was as far as they usually got anyway. There was part of a wing that we could see. We wondered, is that a wing or is it really a whale. It wasn't a whale.

People still went to the beach. The crash didn't keep them from working on their tans. They sat on their beach blankets sipping cold drinks, soaking up as sun, rolling from front to back having someone rub more oil on them. Some had umbrellas for cover and little chairs low on the sand, as they read or napped. We kept going to the beach because this is what we did everyday after school until mom got home from work.

We turned right as soon as we walked out the door of our apartment house, down the palm tree shaded street, then a left and we could see the beach. The small main street was to the right, with stores, a movie theater and restaurants. It looked intriguing but we never went that way. The beach and our grammar school that we walked to were our furthest points. That was our Key West.

When there were torrential rains, the deep gutters in the streets filled up within five minutes. The street became more fun than the ocean to cool down in. Coconuts fell into the fast moving water, some floated down the road, others were ours to eat. The big porch filled with people from the apartment and nearby neighbors. They watched their kids splash around in their new swimming holes and in the evening sat outside in the cooler air fanning themselves, some nursing a drink. In the warm summer months, the hot days and humid nights made it unbearable for most, but little kids got away with being naked on their own porches.

At the beach a man cried out, "hey kids, would you each like to make a nickel? Get me a soda and keep the change!" We wondered if we should be talking to strangers, but the concession stand was nearby and it seemed a safe way to make some ice cream money. We looked forward to waiting on the beach people and getting tips. They would rather have their food delivered than move from their spots in the sun.

Sis got behind me as the man grabbed and held my hand then put money in it. Don't bring a soda to this creepy guy I thought. He wore mirrored sunglasses, we couldn't see his eyes. He could watch people and they wouldn't know. We tiptoed on the hot sand, bought the soda for the shiny man, scurried back and put it near his towel, then ran to another spot on the beach.