One - Bill
He pushed the
hair back from his eyes and picked up his pace. The waves broke along the ocean,
lit by the luminescence of the early evening moon. They broke in a steady rhythm, a string of
pearls along the sea as the moon revealed itself through the clouds. No matter
how fast he went he could not shut out the pain of his past. It echoed in his soul,
and in his walk.
Two years ago,
the injury that had forced him to quit the force, brought him out to California
Bill headed
towards the steep hill between the piers to reach the beach. Holding his leg to still his limp, he
descended the road to the beach. He
wanted to get closer to the shore. The water was very warm, even this late in
the year, due to an offshore hurricane in Mexico
He was at a
loss. Nothing in his police training had
prepared him for this. Not even his CPR
classes. Bill knew that the dolphin was
struggling and didn’t have much time to live. He looked around for help. There was one middle-aged man nearby.
“Hey you,” he
shouted. “I need your help, come
quickly.”
The man instantly
came to his side. “Tell me what to do.”
“Straddle her
with all your strength, and hold on to her fins gently,” he commanded. “I’m going to find out why she can’t breathe
properly.”
Bill inhaled
deeply, and in one quick motion opened the dolphin's mouth. He put his right hand gently in and felt
around. Nothing. The dolphin was
desperately gasping for air. Bill moved
his hand deeper in the mouth. Nothing.
“Shit! Something is obstructing its breathing. I can’t find it.”
He released and
closed the animal’s jaw, gently stroking its head. “It’s going to be okay...I’ll save you,” he
whispered.
A crowd had
gathered, but Bill kept his focus. It
was something he had learned in his fifteen years on the force, what kept him
alive. “I’m going to open her mouth
again,” he said to his new partner. “On
the count of three hold her very still.
I’m going to have to go in deeper to find out what’s wrong.” He was
thinking that not unlike a baby he rescued that had turned blue, perhaps the
animal had an object stuck in its throat.
“One...two...three!” Bill opened her jaw, dug around and felt a
plastic obstruction lodged in the
throat. Placing thumb and
forefinger around it, he pulled it out—it was the remnant of a child’s red
balloon.
Instantly the
dolphin sprayed water through its snout.
It was breathing again. Bill
looked over at the crowd and called out, “Come help me push her back to sea,”
to two young muscular men. The four of
them easily pushed the dolphin past the shore, into the waves of the deeper
waters, where the dolphin rewarded the crowd with a series of melodic sounds as
it leaped through the water, heading towards the horizon.
The audience,
captivated by the rescue, clapped, cheered, and howled. About thirty people had gathered to watch the
rescue. The clouds created shadows on
their faces; their eyes, noses, and mouths blended together as one. Bill wiped the sweat off his forehead with
the back of his sleeve, ignoring the praise of the crowd. The pain of his past had
deadened him somewhere inside that he could not reach. He turned away from the crowd as the clouds
gave way to the light of the moon. In
the distance he saw the silhouette of a lovely woman. She walked alone, away from the crowd. The waves rolled gently in, covering her feet
with a white foam as she strolled by.
She was perfect,
with almond shaped iridescent eyes that glanced at him for a moment, or was it
the reflection of the moon? Her
movements were graceful, a lithe creature of the night that disappeared
into the shadows.
It was a whole
new world here in Newport
Bill entered the
cool lobby of the gym on Balboa
Island
“Hey, Jack,” he
called out to the desk clerk.
“What’s doing?”
replied Jack.
He took his card
and went to the locker room to change.
He smoothed his blond wavy hair as he went by the mirror. He hummed a
little tune, from the 70’s disco era, from Saturday Night Fever,
Then I get night fever, night fever.
Not too bad, Bill
thought, as he took a survey of his body.
Strong, muscular calves, from years of bike riding, defined his
legs. He flexed his smooth, steel biceps that the
ladies loved. Yes, he knew that. Bill
didn’t need steroids to build him up.
Glancing at his waist, he knew that he needed work, there. Oh, shit.
That’s the price one paid for being single. As he climbed the stairs,
Bill felt the dull and constant pain in his left leg. He limped slightly and looked around to see
if anyone noticed it.
He began his
workout for the upper body, shoulders, and back. While lifting and questioning the purpose of
his life, Bill noticed a woman across the room. She was a cut above, he could
feel it in his gut. His instinct
reflected his emotions. Her eyes were
intense, bright, showing the inner light of her being. A full, lush mouth accented with bright red
lipstick matched her nails. Blood red. Long, very long strawberry blonde curly hair,
the kind that you couldn’t control. The
kind of hair his ex had tried to get in the salon, but came out looking fried
instead. At first it looked as if she were naked. Her boobs were high, not as high as the
silicone ones he saw in the movies, these fine works of art moved ceremoniously
as she inhaled to do her exercises. She
bent over to pick up her weights and Bill held his breath, adjusting his
shorts. No—he was not going to do this again. Maybe it was not emotion he felt
for her. He was not going to be roped
in just by the looks. These were always
the women who were trouble; they were too good for everybody, including themselves.
But he could not take his eyes off of her.
He wiped the sweat off his face and continued on to the treadmill. He set the timer for forty-five minutes, and
at level eight with an incline. He was
off and running, toweling the sweat, watching the news, and watching the
outstanding redhead.
https://www.amazon.com/Lovers-Jennifer-Marshall/dp/1484104528
