“Of course, stupid. That’s why we’re here, to swim in the ocean. Get your bathing suit and a towel, and I’ll pack a lunch.”
By the time Lorna has struggled into her one-piece—it’s hard without her mother’s arms to hang on to—Kristen is packing their lunch. On the other side of the living room wall, Lorna can hear her mother’s sobs and her dad shouting, “I’m sick of your bullshit, Mindy!”
“Lunch is packed,” Kristen announces. She is wearing her cut bathing suit, which is misshapen now, one side of it rising dangerously high on her chest. “Let’s go.”
“Wait,” Lorna says. “We forgot our pails.”
“And the towels. Go grab them. Hurry,” Kristen says. She’s already headed for the door, the lunch bag slung over her shoulder. Lorna is afraid to be left behind, so she races to get the buckets and towels and then to catch up to her sister.
Kristen leads the way around the house to the pool, thenaround the pool on decking so hot that Lorna’s bare feet feel like they are burning. Then through a wooden gate and down a beach path that weaves through the dunes. It is all sand, and it feels strange squishing in between Lorna’s toes. Overhead, the seagulls are cawing at them.
The beach doesn’t look very big, and there is dead green stuff lying around. Joggers go past. Old people stroll along, occasionally stopping to bend over and examine something in the sand.
“Let’s sit here and wait for the water to go back,” Kristen says.
“It’s going to go back into the ocean?” Lorna asks.
“Yep. It’s the tide. There is high tide and low tide. Remember? Nana told us.”
Lorna doesn’t remember. They sit on the dunes with the lunch basket between them, watching the water. Lorna likes being with Kristen, just the two of them. A police buggy comes by and the officer yells at them to get off the dunes. They pick up their things and trudge down to the beach. It’s getting bigger.
It’s hot, and sand is everywhere, gritty between Lorna’s toes and rubbing uncomfortably under her bathing suit. The wind is blowing, but she can feel the sun baking her skin. She suddenly gasps with alarm. “We forgot our hats! Mommy said to wear them. Can we go get them?”
“We’ll be fine,” Kristen says. She tugs down her uneven bathing suit. “Let’s have lunch.” She uses the bottom of her foot to even a place in the sand and sets down the insulated bag. She kneels and opens it with a broad smile, pleased with her efforts.
Lorna peers inside—there are Cheetos, a big jar of peanut butter, and four cans. Lorna pulls one of the cans out. It’s Daddy’s beer. “We’re not supposed to have these,” Lorna says disapprovingly.
“Stop being a baby,” Kristen admonishes. She takes one and opens it, and it spews everywhere. They laugh. When it stops foaming, Kristen tastes it. She screws up her face. “Gross.”
“Let me try,” Lorna says, reaching for the can. Lorna drinks. She promptly spits it out. “It tastes like dirty feet,” she complains.
“How do you know what dirty feet taste like? Have you been licking your feet?” Kristen laughs at herself and takes the can from Lorna.
They munch on Cheetos and leave the peanut butter. Kristen drinks from the can. Lorna picks up her pail and shovel. “I’m going to build a castle.”
She walks down the beach a little way and settles on a spot where there isn’t any seaweed but lots of shells nearby. Nana said she would need shells to decorate her castle. She drops to her knees and uses her shovel to fill her pail, then turns the pail upside down for her first tower. It falls apart.
She tries again, creating two more mounds of sand. They look nothing like the pictures Nana showed her.
A man stops to watch. Lorna instinctively looks for Kristen, but her sister is nowhere in sight. The man smells like sweat. “You’re doing it wrong,” he says.
Lorna doesn’t speak.
He squats down beside her and takes her pail without asking. Lorna scooches back and away from him, afraid.
“You have to pack the sand,” he says. He fills the pail, mashing down the sand as he goes. He turns it over and taps the pail, and it comes away, leaving a tower. “You see?”
Lorna nods.
He sets the pail down and walks away.
Before long, she has ten castle towers in a circle. She pauses to consider the empty middle of the circle. It needs a bigger tower. Or maybe some shells. She notices that her skin feels like fire. So does the top of her head. What can she put in the middle? She stands up to look for shells. That’s when she sees the boys.
There are three of them. They’re not grown-ups, but they’rebigger than Kristen. They’re laughing at Lorna’s castle. Her belly twists with fear. She wishes her mother were here. She looks for Kristen once more but doesn’t see her.
One of them, the biggest one, jogs closer to her castle. “What’s this supposed to be?”
“A castle,” Lorna says.
