Storyteller

I could hear the labored grunts of my old friends as they tracked up the hill and onto the railroad tracks…I am surprised I can hear them over my own. But as we reach the tracks we stop to wait for each other and soak up the old site of Bonny Doon beach. The afternoon sun was still high in the sky making the offshore winds seem cool as it blew September sand in our faces. “Man, this is nice.” Dan says to me, forgetting the nights we spent here young, drunk and insane. “Yep, I thought you might like it.” I say, forgetting that he hadn’t seen this place in a long time. Our conversation was followed by ‘oohs’ and ‘ah’s’ from the rest of our group who, I guess, hadn’t seen it in just as long. So we stand and look into the past remembering what this place was. I stand at the north end of the group and look south, seeing their faces, the sun making them look like I used to know them. “Good idea, right?” I say smiling, but they don’t look at me, they just nod their heads and begin for the beach. Dan slaps me on the back and smiles. “Let’s go.” He finishes, and we start down an old familiar path.

Our group of eleven, me being the odd one out, carrying the assorted beach necessities like booze, food and fire wood waited for the first belly laugh to rear its head and as soon as Bob fell, like he always used to here, we didn’t stop laughing until the fire was lit. We sat and opened the wine and set up the barbeque for our steaks and other assorted adult food which was a far cry from the California Wine Coolers, beer and Burger King we stuffed our gullets with in years past, but the mood was the same. We sat and marinated the steaks because they were for later and started the usual small talk. “So why did you finally decide to come down, Chris?” Eric asks me, his wife stops her conversation with John to listen. “Well, I haven’t seen anybody in about ten years so I thought I’d grace you with my presence one more time.” I say, trying to show them I hadn’t changed. “I know, I live right up the hill from him and all I get are e-mails every once in a while.” He says, giving me a well-deserved eye roll.” I take my hermitude seriously.” I say, giving him back his eye roll. “You’re what?!...that’s not a word.” Karen, Bob’s wife, says. “Sure that’s a word…a hermit attitude.” I explain with my best serious face. “It’s a ‘Chris’ word…you better get used to that.” Jeanette says as Dan laughs because he’s heard the most of my wordy machinations. “You really want to know why?” I say back to Eric. “Only if you use normal words, but yes.” Mike interrupts. “I miss the lights…it dawned on me when Dan called, it is so quiet, so dark up there…I just miss the lights. Especially when you come over the Sunol Grade and see the Bay Area with all its glorious lights, that is something special you miss when you move to somewhere that’s is completely opposite.” I finish and look around at everyone trying to figure out what their looks mean. “When the lights go down…in the city, and the sun shines on the bay…” Mike starts singing the old ‘Journey’ song. “OH I want to be there’re in my city…oh EW oh…oh whoa, ohewhoa.” They all finish as Mike starts in again. “They say…” But he is quickly shushed by his wife. “So that’s it, you miss the lights?” Mike’s wife says with a quizzical look on her face. “Yep, I can show you tomorrow after the reunion if you want.” I say to her, knowing that she had never been out of Oregon. “Hell, I will show all of you, if you want to see, but it won’t mean the same. “Up by my old house…Alum Rock Rd.?” Dan says. “Yea, I was planning that before we went to the bar, maybe instead of the bar. “That sounds perfect…now for a special treat.” He says and reaches in his bag and brings out a satellite boom box a box of wine and Fresca.

I know exactly what he’s done, but everyone else is in the dark. He passes out the plastic glasses and fills me my first glass and just before I drank it “Trio – Da Da Da” hits our ears. “Does anyone want a Wine Cooler?” I ask the group. The group is still in shock from hearing such an old song, but more are confused with my question. “Karen, here try this.” And I give the glass to her. “Oh…my…God, this is an old wine cooler, how in the heck you figured this out. “Magic!” I say and do a voodoo you sign with my fingers. With the sounds of confusion and elation the night is begun.

The sun sets slowly as I watch my friends against the backdrop of the Pacific Ocean, the girls are dancing and the guys are sitting sipping their wine coolers. The first chill of the night hits our group, but it goes unnoticed because the history of this beach surrounds us in its sunken memory. Its beach has been beaten down by the years, not unlike us, yet the cliffs still keep the harsh pacific winds at bay. Bonny Doon remembers us as much as we remember it, giving us another once in a lifetime sunset. We welcome it back with open arms. I sit, quietly and watch everything around me slowly begin to mimic the movement of the environment, like I always did, like I always do, trying to figure out a way to repay the debt for this. Looking around I say to myself, “Whatever this is.” But the ‘thank you’ had already begun, unbeknownst to me, as Bob, John, and Eric come arguing around the fire. “Hey, Chris…you remember that one party?” I smile and answer before they can define specific parameters. “Yes, I do…I remember all of them.” They stop arguing, looking at me as they should because I even feel creeped out at the tone of my answer. “Well, that was weird.” I say. Fumbling to get my head around my new situation. ‘This is going to be harder than I thought’, I think to myself.