THE OCEAN’S ROAR(Susan Joyner-Stumpf) THE OCEAN’S ROAR


I always felt oneness with the Sea, I guess because the remainder of my life had often times felt disjointed and incohesive. The spray of the salty air breathed new life into my war-torn lungs. Life could be perceived as war, each waking day a new battle yet to be conquered or given up in shameful defeat. We are soldiers. We expect to die.

“A toast to Sonora and Brad,” Darryl broke the meandering spell of my private reveries. We all sat around the campfire with our chocolate marshmallows, wine and beer. Not necessarily ingredients you’d think would be compatible until you take into consideration that when you have a buzz going on, you sometimes join things together that normally are unsuitable. Those words will come back to haunt me.

I smiled as my beautiful fiancé Brad took my hand in his and squeezed. I still wasn’t accustomed to the new rock weighing down my finger, concerned how Brad could even afford such a large pear-shaped quality cut diamond encased in a gold Tiffany setting on his legal intern salary. Well, though, I had to admit, his father was, after all, a well-to-do Corporate Man; maybe he assisted his only son, heir to his throne, so to speak, in the financial department for its purchase. That must mean perhaps, that his ruthless and elusive father approved of our whirlwind courtship. That was my hope, anyway. What’s the old adage, never look a gift horse in the mouth? The saying should have continued on to include because you may not like what you find.

Corry began to chant “show us the rock. Show us the rock.” The mantra turned into Queen’s song We Will Rock You. Everyone began to embarrass Brad and I by insisting that I hold up my ring finger, broken fingernail and all, to show off the engagement ring. Their voices became louder when at first I only chuckled it off and ignored their serious request.

“Okay, okay ~ happy?” and I waved my hand in the air like a silly Pageant Girl before demurely poising it in mid-air it as though expecting to be kissed by a Prince or foreign ambassador. And the Prince beside me took it to his mouth and kissed it gently. I stared into Brad’s sweet eyes, giddy like a school girl with her crush beside her. This was my man. I must have done something right in my former life to find love like this in this one.

Through my peripheral side-vision I watched Ellen Murray sitting cross-legged and quiet opposite me around the blazing campfire, tucked purposefully incognito behind Eleanor, Vicky, Riley and Zak. She didn’t appear to be joining in all the gaiety, fun and song. And unusual for her, Ellen wasn’t even drinking any alcohol like the rest of us, which was totally out of character for her. Ellen was the one who typically got wild and uninhibited at all the parties and gatherings to the point we had to say enough is enough and thus go as far as hiding her drinks from her, playing devil’s advocate. For we loved Ellen for her off-the-wall behaviors most times, but on the other hand we got tired of being her babysitters and designated drivers. After all, we wanted to cut loose too, but someone out of the group had to remain with senses intact. Most of the time I was the chosen one. Lucky me.

Ellen, along with most of the other women here, went way back with me from our old Centura High School days. A few of them, along with Ellen, even followed me to the identical College. But Ellen proved over the years to always be jealous of me which made it hard to form a close relationship. It’s arduous bonding with someone who you feel intensely dislikes you because they consider you prettier and skinnier than they are even if that’s not truly the case; or if they have convinced themselves that your current boyfriend is the object of their own personal desire. In actuality, Ellen had absolutely zero reasons to possess one ounce of envy towards me. She was the opposite of me with my long blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin, for she had long ebony-black tresses that draped around her own slender frame but her claim to fame were her amazing Hazel dove-shaped eyes. Her skin was also spray-tanned even in Winter so she always had this bronze glow about her. Ellen had a sad and wistful look which drove men absolutely crazy. They all felt they needed to come dashing to her rescue, from what, they didn’t know nor care; she just had this forlorn look of confusion or fear and men, and some women, were driven to it, to help her, to fix it, especially those of the nurturing type, which I wasn’t, which is why her look did not disturb me as it did others. I wasn’t falling for it, in other words. I think she was faking it for attention.

While I played guitar, Ellen, along with an array of other talents, played a mean electric Violin. She personally never had a problem finding a boyfriend either but still she always felt the need to be in competition with me. It was getting old. After all these years, still, Ellen had never changed those tell-tale stripes, for here we were in our late twenties, early thirties, some of us with children ourselves the same age we were back in the day tearing up our little town, and yet she kept me at an arms-length safe distance, letting me in when it suited her but then pushing me out when it was inconvenient. I never knew exactly where I stood with her on a day-to-day, sometimes hourly, basis; at any given moment it was subject to change. It wore me out. You’d think she would have matured enough by now to let all that go but I guess not. If anything, our rivalry only seemed to get worse over the years instead of fading off as some silly childish phase.

One minute Ellen was buying me a Wolf Snow Globe and the next minute she was blackballing me from a get together at her lake house with all the group we hung out with. I, on the other hand, went out of my way to always remember to include Ellen in every outing or event with our friends but she always managed to make me feel uncomfortable or guilty. I never knew what she was thinking or scheming, that’s the scary part. Did she like me, did she hate my friggin guts? Anyone’s guess and you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. I think it depended upon the circumstances. If I had a hole in my stockings at an exclusive event or Charity, I’m sure Ellen loved me for my imperfections. If, on the other hand, I was accepting an award or other accolades at a Writer’s Convention for my latest Novel, I think she wished I would fall down the steps headed towards the stage and break my neck, maybe not enough to die but to paralyze me. Maybe a little exaggeration but that’s about the gist of our fair-weather friendship, if you could even call it a friendship.

Everyone started doing their own thing. Some of the men got into a heated game of volleyball. Brad got up to go show a few chords on the guitar to Michael. Some of the other girls were ditching their towels and headed towards the water. Others were starting up the grill to get some food on. I stayed where I was and Ellen crawled over to me.

“Were you surprised to get the ring?”

“Actually, I was,” I said, watching Ellen get comfortable beside me. Something’s up. There were a lot of things to do here at the beach and yet she’s over here with me, making small talk. Something’s up. It doesn’t take a rock scientist to know she’s up to something, I just needed to figure it out.

“I mean why, you’ve only been dating for an eternity of six long months…”

“I know it happened pretty fast,” I agreed. I peered into her eyes, always hearing that was the window to the Soul, so why couldn’t I read Ellen there? What was different about her sad and lonely eyes that I couldn’t get past her Hazel retinas? They were like a neon Stop sign, and there was no detour.

“To this day I find your union … well…let me put it this way, Sonora. I never thought you two would make it.”

The air suddenly changed. The sun that had been so beaming earlier suddenly darted behind some wispy clouds. A frisky Ocean breeze settled between us, cold enough for me to want to gather my soft flannel blanket tighter around my shoulders and exposed legs. Seagulls cried and soared above us, circling like vultures eying their prey. Voices of our friends in the background were a comforting sound, yet I felt far from comfortable. Painfully I shifted positions. I knew I was in for a long and not so pleasant conversation with my greatest Fan. Ha–ha ~ I thought to myself. So lately sarcasm has become my forte.

I cleared my throat and took another long swig of red wine. I could feel its zesty texture immediately warm my insides, fueling the euphoria I had felt earlier because I was drinking on an empty stomach. I looked around for the rest of the bottle because something told me I was going to need it. Finding it behind me, I poured more to the brim of the Styrofoam cup. “Ellen, that’s not a very nice thing to say.”

“Well you know me, I don’t sugar-coat. It’s just that maybe you look too much alike, with the blonde hair going on. You look more like twins than a couple. He’s not crazy about horses like you are. And you don’t like motorcycles like he rides. So you have your Walking Horses, and he has his Iron Horses. Of course you both play guitar, I will give you that. Right before Brad met you, he was dating Janet.” Ellen looked around. “She was invited to come but I don’t see her here. I gave her a personal invitation to come here today but I guess she didn’t want to meet up with YOU. You know they dated for two years. Who knows why they broke it off but then enter you into the picture. You’re not afraid you caught poor Brad on the rebound?”

Surely there had to be a reason Ellen was driving this point into the ground. It wasn’t the first time she drove home the fact that possibly Brad got involved with me because he wasn’t used to being without a woman at his side. After his breakup with Janet, he did appear depressed which is understandable. After all, he supposedly did love her very much. He’s the kind of man that likes a woman constantly wrapped around him like an ornament. When he’s alone, he develops insecurities and extremely bad habits. He needs the female gender to calm him down, keep him on the straight and narrow, bring out his better qualities instead of the tough macho image that he often displays as a defense mechanism. He’s always surrounded by his buddies and women friends when he’s not in a committed relationship with anyone because he can’t stand his lone shadow. But what did that have to do with me? Surely Brad had always been in our group, so actually, was it so unlikely that two people who were first friends could later become more? From what I’ve always heard, that’s ideal to be friends first because then you have a clearer understanding of each other that once wasn’t coated and clouded with the drippings of love, which takes a relationship as we know to a whole new level and once there, you can’t turn back. I think, or thought, anyway, it was quite natural for Brad and I to gravitate towards one another. We did have more in common than Ellen surmises. He has learned to love my horses, and I’ve accepted his Harley Davidson literally inside my living room because where we live I don’t have a garage and he doesn’t want his baby out in the elements.

“I think Brad can answer for himself, but Ellen, I know we were friends first. I know Janet about as much as you do. I don’t know what happened between them. Sure I was there as a shoulder to cry on. If you remember, Brad had many shoulders to cry on. Maybe even yours.” I stopped to read a response. Ellen just stared into me. Never at me. She pierced me with her Hazel darts. I went on. I could read nothing if my life depended upon it. “It just happened. One day we both woke up. It might be even the same day we both realized we wanted to be more than friends. I surely didn’t chase it, and I know he wasn’t stalking me, either. We had an acceptance of each other, a quiet, comfortable friendship that just happened to move in another direction. I don’t just love Brad, I genuinely LIKE him as a person first, and I think that’s important. You ask a lot of couples today and they will tell you they hate each other as friends, but love each other as husband and wife. It’s different.”

“Hope you’re right, Sonora. I don’t want to see you get hurt. The engagement happened fast. I’m just a skeptic at heart, I’m hard core and I believe things by seeing first, not doing later. If he loves you, time will tell and hopefully soon, for goodness sakes. You’re going to be married. We know one thing we have to agree on Brad’s personality, he doesn’t like to be alone. I just want you to think good and hard, did you just so happen to be in the right place at the right time when he wasn’t looking for it all to go down like it did? Could anyone fill your shoes or was it really Sonora Hemmingway that he fell in love with, not the idea of you…”

“Why does it matter so much to you Ellen? You have to admit we’ve never really been that close, you have to agree to that as well if we’re agreeing on things here today. So, if I’m possibly in for this big hurt as you say…”

“I didn’t say that Sonora,” Ellen interrupted. “You’re putting words in my mouth. All I said was I wanted you to be sure this sudden commitment is the real deal and not just Brad’s way of expressing the fact that like a little kid who doesn’t like to sleep in the dark and wants a night light on, that he truly loves you as a person, not for the security you stand for…”

“Oh like a trophy girlfriend or something…”

“There you go again. You sure like to put words in my mouth.”

Then came time for the awkward silence as my eyes drifted off to the inviting waves and the screeches and calls that hung thick in the air like balloons and I wondered why I wasn’t out there having fun too. What am I doing here, with Ellen, of all people. My greatest fan.

Ellen got up. “Well, just be careful is all. I do want you to be happy. I know you find that hard to believe. I know over the years we’ve both had our issues with one another, but we’ve known each other long enough to where I think I could almost tell you anything, and at the same time, I would hope you feel that you could come to me too. But we know how Brad is. That’s all I’m saying here, Sonora. Is this engagement, marriage proposal, just a ploy for him to be able to have a stand-by and constant companion to chase away the demons beneath his bed at night? Just consider that while you’re out there buying an expensive wedding dress and picking out wedding china. You’re marrying a man but also still, a little lonely, lost boy who hates being alone with his thoughts. He has a lot of fears and phobias. But then, maybe you do too and that’s why you get along so well. Who knows, maybe you’re afraid of the dark, as well. If that’s the case, you’re meant for each other.”

Before I could respond, Ellen got up and disappeared in the mingling crowd. Afraid of the dark. Actually I was. I’m one of those people who thinks when they were a child they were attacked by an Incubus. I would wake up frighteningly paralyzed. My brain wide-alert yet I couldn’t move my body. I would be frozen in fear. Of course years later I come to find out that this is actually a sleeping disorder, but try to tell that to a child who upon awakening, they can’t defend themselves against the horrible demon hovering over them and when you try to scream, nothing emits from your voice so no one can run to help you. Maybe that happened to Brad too when he was young. Maybe we both could help each other with the darkness. God knows that the only good thing about light is that it puts a visible face on the demon ….long enough for us to see it for what it is. And did we really want to face our demons? Did we ever have a choice, really?

I got up with my cup and wandered around, in and amongst my beloved friends. Those that were in a serious game of volleyball. I stayed out of their way, except for one time when the ball landed at my feet, I threw it back to them, laughing. I walked closer towards the water and let the waves wash over my bare feet. It felt so good and cool. I wanted to go in swimming and thought later I would do just that. I walked back to get a sandwich and then took a nap beneath a tree. I actually fell asleep long enough to have a dream of me running. Always running. And every time I look behind me to see what I’m running from, I don’t see anything or it’s too dark to see even shadows. Dark comes up again. I did notice upon awakening that it was almost dusk. Vicky walked over.

“Hey there babycakes…didn’t want to wake you up, you looked so peaceful. Are you okay?”

“I fell asleep. Half the day is gone. Why did you all let me waste this perfect and beautiful day? Shit. What time is it?” I glanced at my watch. 4:35. Well, it wasn’t too bad, but the sun was going down and it was getting colder. So much for going into the water, I already had goose bumps.

“You were curled up in your towel like a little baby,” Vicky said and sat down with me, stroking my hair out of my eyes with her fingers, lovingly. “You sure are pretty Sonora. Brad is a lucky guy. Take care of him. I hope he takes care of you. I love you both.”

“You’re so sweet Vicky, and talking about Brad, where is my husband-to-be?”

Vicky looked out towards the water. “About thirty minutes ago he was out in the water with Ryan, Zak and Ellen. I came back to eat a hamburger and now I don’t know where he went. Or the rest of the guys either.”

I hugged Vicky lightly and told her thanks for being there for me. I got up and grabbed one of Brad’s sweat shirts and pulled it over me. It still had his scent buried in the fibers. I sucked the aroma of his body scent into my lungs; breathed in my man. It excited me. I could feel him, smell his sex, his energy, his petal-delicate but at the same time, firm love for me. I could remember some of his whispers in my hair at night as we lay close, Sonora, love me till it hurts. Sonora, hurt me with your love. He must be hurting because I loved him real bad. Missed him too. We never went too long without being in each other’s company. It was imperative for the health of my core being to go find him. I needed Brad as much as he needed me. I will never believe as Ellen says, that just anyone will do. I’m good for Brad, aren’t I? I think it takes a special person to be loved by Brad Sterling, and to love him back. Didn’t even his own father, his cruel and ruthless father, tell him and I once that we seemed to bounce off good vibes with each other? I mean, I know that sounds like some hippie-talk from the 60’s, but I truly believed his father meant that in a good way. I poured another cup of wine and headed down the beach in search of my lover.

It seemed a good while I was walking the length of the beach. Voices of my friends seemed all but a faded, distant echo. It was me, the waves, the restless Gulls, an occasional washed up sea urchin or crab crawling on the sand to whereabouts unknown, my loneliness, the darkening sky. I stubbed my toe on a pebble and winced, stumbling over to sit on a piece of drift wood to massage my throbbing toe from the excruciating pain. Brad, Brad, where are you, sweet love of my life? The pain in my foot was more intense. I can’t be injured, I told myself. No, I demanded of my body. I will be able to walk. I got back up but this time headed towards the dunes away from the water. I was headed towards a craggy cliff area with dunes and strewn driftwood and even the bow of an old ship.

I heard what sounded like moans coming from that direction. It almost sounded like an injured animal, that was my first impression. So as not to startle any animal that could possibly be sitting there in the sand wounded, I crouched and continued up the path to the dunes with stealth quiet movement. Closer and closer I got. The moans of pain I thought I heard became more of muffled voices….voices? Now I was crawling on my hands and knees towards this one particular dune where the bow of the boat was, and lots of scattered driftwood. A red blanket lay sprawled across the uneven sand. I edged closer, still remaining hidden from view. There I saw Ellen on her back, legs apart. Her beautiful long black hair was sprawled across the blanket and her mouth as she laughed softly but with pure, child-like excitement. Then I noticed the person on top of her…..who else had blonde hair…not Rick, not Zak. Brad? No. It couldn’t be. But then I heard his unmistakable husky voice and my heart sunk at that moment like the anchor on a docked ship.

“Sand in your face becomes you,” he spoke to Ellen’s pierced ear as he gyrated in slow motion above her body arching upwards to match his every move. It took my eyes a few minutes to focus in and realize they both were nude. He was poised above her, buttocks in the air, one hand cupping a soft tanned breast, the other hand he used for leverage to position himself over her writhing body.

“You don’t look so bad yourself all windblown.” Her hand guided his erect and bulging manhood closer towards its destination. He let out a gasp of unimaginable pleasure as she squeezed the juice from him.

“Better save some for when I’m inside,” he warned her.

“I want it now. Everything you’ve got, all of you ~ give it to me, Brad Sterling, like you’ve never done before. Like you will never do Sonora.”

He stopped moving. “Did you have to bring up her name?”

“Brad, oh Brad, please don’t stop. I couldn’t help it. Ooooooh. I do care for her, I do.” Ellen again grabbed him and guided his large penis between her legs and he picked up the pace again, as though the interruption were just what his maddening, climbing lust needed to go back full force again. “Oh Brad, you’re so big, you’re tearing me up, it hurts so good. Does it feel good to you? Tell me it does. Lie to me if you have to…” She let out a soft scream. Brad’s movements became harder, more forceful.

He gave out a loud moan, as though he had already climaxed. “Ellen, it’s wonderful. You make me feel like a man. Like I’m worth something. My cock never felt so good…”

“Brad…Brad…oh my God Brad…”

I began to crawl away. I’d seen and heard enough. Far too much, as a matter of fact. I’d already stayed too long, but the shock had kept me there, frozen, dead-locked. Unable to move like when I was that child awoken out of a terrible nightmare, paralyzed, a demon on top of me. Now the holocaust had hit and I found myself ducking from flying shrapnel. All I could think about was Ellen and Brad discovering me as I slipped away into the inky oncoming dusk. Would it have even mattered, I don’t know. But even their pleasure cries became a distant memory and finally I got to the part of the beach where I knew I wouldn’t be detected and started walking back towards my group. All I could think about, Ellen was helping him get over the darkness, get over the darkness. I thought I was supposed to do that. I shook my head, a blonde head full of uncried tears, that’s how heavy it felt. All those pent up tears waiting for their perfect moment to fall.

I should have known. Shouldn’t I have? Ellen always got what she wanted. It didn’t matter how she went about it, but it was all the more enticing if it wasn’t meant to be hers in the first place, if it belonged to someone else and they loved it more than she ever would. I don’t think I was ever going to tell Ellen and Brad that I caught them. I would just let the relationship slip away into easy death. She won. After all these years, she won. She beat me. She beat the darkness and showed Brad the demon in the light. The demon was her.

I came across a conch shell. How beautiful the smooth pink interior. I took the engagement ring off and shoved it deep into the shell. I then, without hesitation, hurled the shell back into the Ocean where it belonged. Back to a deepness that didn’t exist any longer in our Souls. Home to something we will perhaps never understand, why love often breaks like white caps. You know we grow up being told that when you pick up a conch shell and put it to your ear, that what you hear is the Ocean’s roar. Me? I think the sound is our lives passing through in a crashing whimper. And now I know when I threw it back to be claimed by the Sea, my heart went with it in this giant of a roar.


© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

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