THE STRANGER ON THE BEACH
by
Margaret Marr
The wind whipped Aileen's hair in all directions. It pushed from the front, and then turned and shoved her from the back. A vicious wind bent on taking what was left of her life.
She pulled her old, gray sweater tighter around her middle and looked back at the charred remains of her house. The house she'd laughed and cried in, the house she'd played in as a little girl with knobby knees and out of control curly, brown hair. As an adult, not yet twenty, she still had knobby knees and out of control curly, brown hair, but she would no longer laugh, cry or play with her future children in that house.
The fire might have been easier to accept if the wiring had been bad and caused a spark to turn the house into a towering inferno, but it had been a senseless act of arson. Somebody had a twisted fascination with fire and had wanted to see flames licking the front porch, its hungry tongue reaching out of every window.
Aileen shivered and wiped the tears from her eyes. Where could she go now? Where was a haven to keep her safe and warm? The arsonist did not just destroy her house, he or she destroyed a viable, living, breathing part of her life...her home.
She looked out across the endless water, and in the dim light of the evening, she saw the sky where it met the ocean. Both a dark gray expanse. The water lapped at her feet, and she removed her shoes, feeling a small amount of comfort as the cold, wet sand oozed between her toes. When she looked up, she saw a man on the other end of the beach.
He looked strange, like he'd stepped through a rip in time from another era. A long tunic covered his body from neck to ankles and was cinched at the waist with what looked like a piece of rope. He wore sandals up on his feet. Brown, curly hair, much like her own, fell to his shoulders.
Aileen squinted and tried to see a few more details, but it was impossible in the growing darkness. She took a step toward him, and then hesitated. The arsonist had not been found. What if she was walking into danger?
The man raised his arm and beckoned for her to come.
She caught her breath and felt an overwhelming urge to run and throw herself into that man's embrace. If she didn't do it now, the opportunity might not present itself again.
With arms outstretched, he invited her with his finger to come.
She took another step, and then another until she was running with everything her legs would give. The water and sand splashed up on her pants, leaving dark, wet splotches. Within a few steps of him, she stopped. Her chest heaved up and down, gasping to draw air through painful lungs.
He spread his arms wide and waited.
Now that she was closer, she could see the shadow of his beard as if he'd forgotten to shave that morning. Eyes the color of a wheat field at midnight, full of love, mercy and understanding, stared intently at her, waiting for something.
She stepped into the circle of his arms. It felt like she'+d fallen into a vat of feathers, his embrace was so soft. She curled up in his arms and closed her eyes. A feeling of total peace came over her. There was no more pain, no more sorrow, no more tears. Neither was there any more fear. It was all wiped away. The pounding of the surf was replaced with quiet solitude, and the darkness with warm light.
"Stay here," she whispered, but could feel the strong arms letting her go. She was back on the beach where the water chilled her feet, and the wind beat at her without mercy.
"No," she whimpered.
The man backed away toward the ocean until all he held was the tip of her fingers.
She stretched to keep contact with him. "Please don't go," she begged. Tears trickled from the corner of her eyes. She wanted to stay in his arms forever.
"Come," he said, backing into the water.
She hesitated and drew her hand to her side. Must I follow him out on the water? she wondered. A distant storm made the waves higher and rougher.
"You must trust me, Aileen." He rose above the waves.
"How did you know my name?" she asked, her eyes growing wide at the man standing on the surface of the water.
"I know all names. Come." He reached for her again.
Placing her hand in his, she followed him out into the ocean. She laughed with delight as she walked on the water. She dropped her eyes to her feet and sudden fear gripped her. The angry water bit at her ankles and clawed at her knees, reaching for her thighs.
A gentle hand lifted her chin. "Keep your eyes on me, and I will be a shelter from the storm."
She looked into those brown eyes and knew she could follow him to the ends of the earth and into eternity. "Who are you?" she asked.
"I am called many things. I'm with you always." He stroked her hair with tenderness. "You must go back now."
Aileen looked toward the shore. They'd came a long way. Much further than she thought. Apprehension brushed at her stomach.
"I am with you," he whispered.
She took a deep breath and started walking. I am doing it, she thought with joy. One step at a time she made it almost to the shore, then she sank down to touch the sandy bottom with her feet.
"I did it!" She giggled like a child and turned to look.
He was gone.
The smile left her face, and she searched the black water in vain. Where was he? I need him. He can't leave me now. The thoughts spun around in her mind. What will I do without him? she wondered, panic setting in.
"I am with you always." The whisper bounced off the bluffs and echoed all around her.
She sighed in relief. A measure of the peace she'd felt in his arms returned. Though she couldn't see him, she could feel him. He was there all around her.
She lifted her eyes to the remains of her house and instead of seeing a burnt out shell, she saw hope. A place she would fill with laughter and love and new memories. And the stranger on the beach would always be welcome there.