My friend and I had this grand plan that we would trade short stories back and forth via a series of writing prompts. Big surprise, this never happened. I have no clue if she actually wrote anything from our first prompt, but I sure as hell gave it a shot! The prompt was a picture of a man on a beach with a lantern. It is unclear if it was a sunset or just before the dawn, but I took my best guess. I actually enjoy the atmosphere of this story and keeping it simple was the right way to go for me.

The tide rolled in and barely touched the edge of Derek’s scuffed work boots. The tide reminded him a lot of Raina. Either giving too much of herself or never enough. The ebb and flow of the water and the undulations of her frequent mood swings echoed in his memory. Most mornings, she would wake in a serene bath of angelic light. By the end of the day, she would envelop herself in a matte black blanket of her own self-pity and hate. She wouldn’t approve of his activities this evening. In fact, she didn’t approve of anything past or present involving Derek’s affairs with his older brother. His complicated familial ties sunk their relationship.

It was only a year ago Raina gave him the ultimatum, stop spending time with Dave and quit dealing or she was out. Derek managed to keep part of that bargain, but unfortunately for him, there was only so many job options for an ex-con. Anyway, how else was he going to afford to take care of her? Afford her meds? Today, he would break the other piece of that bargain.

The lantern flickered and pulled Derek away from his memories back to the coast. Dawn would soon break, and the lantern would prove useless. Every roll of the tide inching over him or away was like the tick tock of a time piece. Counting the waves, instead of seconds, minutes, hours. How long had he been out there? His eldest brother Dave said he would meet him for the pickup at sunrise. Anxiety creeping, tide crashing, nerves burning.

As Derek stared into the dark skyline, he remembered the many trips he and Raina made to the beach. There was one day that stood out in Derek’s mind from a few months ago. She wore that sweater made of argyle. It was May in Mobile, but she didn’t care. She was always cold. Her mama said she might as well have been born with out a pulse. Derek knew that wasn’t true. She was full of life, and was always cold because that’s how the world treated her. He tried to be her warmth and comfort. She wore the sweater to the beach. All the other girls sported swimsuits, hoping to score glances from all the lucky passersby. Not Raina. She refused to make eye contact.  Sitting on toasted granules of sand, she drew pictures with her timid pointer finger, calm like the tide that day. By nightfall, she slammed herself into the walls of their apartment, screaming for release. Derek had witnessed this before, but this night was different. This was the night he realized he could not save her.

Her body crashed into the wall and shook the medicine cabinet. Castanet like sounds of pills hit against the cabinet door. She yanked it open and ripped the lids off with a strange desperation. After turning the faucet on full blast, the rainbow Rx were poured into the sink. Derek attempted to fish the pills out, pawing at the water like a bear hunting for salmon in the stream. Raina sunk to the floor, her hair sticking to her sticky tear-soaked face. They were both at a loss. Their relationship going down the drain with those pills.

Distant headlights glared on the side of the lantern.  A rusted Ford pick-up parked and doused the light. The engine cut out and the tide recoiled.

“You got something for me” Dave lazily called out, stating as more of a fact than an actual question. Derek ambled towards him, fingering the Skoll in his pocket. The men solemnly bent their heads towards the sand. Seagulls whirred in the distance.

“All right, brother. You grab the top, I’ll grab the bottom.”

Derek spit the tobacco into the sand before bending over. They heaved and struggled to make it back to the truck, despite the short distance between them and the vehicle.

Once they reached the truck and unloaded their haul, Derek caught one last glimpse of that argyle sweater.