In the Surf

by Maggie Jane Schuler

Genres: General Fiction; Family Life; Literary Fiction

Synopsis

Liam recalls the life of his best friend while desperately trying to make sense of the hopelessness he finds himself in after his friend, Byron, takes his own life.

Release date: July 30, 2019

Publisher: Maggie Jane Schuler

Print pages: 93

Sample

“Tell him dats mine!” 

I turned, the blonde curls of my two-year-old bouncing up from the shore toward me. 

      “Daddy, you hear me?” Emma’s cold sandy hands pressed against my cheeks as she turned my head, confirming I listened to her complain about her friend, Hunter, stealing her bucket and shovel.

      “Em, leave Daddy alone and come back down here. He’s thinking up there on his towel.” My wife, Sarah, stood with her calves in the breaking waves, her hands around her five-month round belly as she tried to protect me from the world. A world which fell apart three days ago. 

“I’m good,” I shouted back. “Hunter, buddy, come here for a minute.”  I waved the black-haired toddler my way. “Hey, buddy, look at the toys down there.” I pointed to the blue, green, red, and yellow buckets and shovels littering their play zone along the shoreline.

“Em, she no let me play with nuht-tin’.” Hunter huffed and crossed his arms across his chest, and the big blue eyes filled with tears. Behind my glasses, I swallowed back my own waterworks as I gazed up into the eyes of my best friend’s son—a son he loved down to the core of his soul but left behind. His mini-me down to the cleft chin, long eyelashes, and big chestnut eyes.

“Let me tell you about women, little man.”  I sat back on my towel and patted a spot hoping he’d take a seat next to me.

“Well, this should be good!” Sarah walked up the beach, hands full of the sand toys and Emma on her heels.

“Women are the best thing in the world. They make things happen. They’re soft and—”

“Okay. Who wants a snack?” Sarah interrupted and smacked my shoulder.

The “me, me, me” was shouted in unison as the two toddlers jumped up and down at the thought of food. Sarah leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on my lips as I rubbed her belly.

“When’s Mommy and Daddy coming?” Hunter yawned out, returning me to the empty, stabbing pain inside with each beat of my heart. A panic of uncertainty crept painfully over me, the past few days swirling through my mind. The ache lingered in my lungs, burning on the inhale. A depth of agony, building itself from the lack of oxygen, forced my eyes shut. The spasms within my chest reminded me of the road thrust upon me without my consent.

Sarah noticed my unsettled state and saved me from the eyes of the kids. “Let’s go get that watermelon. Maybe we can get Liam to grab the boogie boards from the car so we can go float a little in the waves?” Sarah stood and ran a hand through my brown, summer-sun streaked hair. 

My toes slid into my flip flops, and I shuffled up the beach and up the sandy asphalt path to the parking lot. T Street never felt so unfamiliar than in this moment. As a native of Southern California, life revolved around the beach, surf, friends, and family. Without the kids, Strands Beach accommodated serious surfers better, but today the beach served as a distraction from the harsh realities of the truth—Byron. Gone. Without me having noticed one sign, one missed cry for help, one chance to help him.

I carried the boards back to our umbrellas, and Sarah held up her hand, putting a finger over her lips. I peered around the tilted shady spot to find Emma and Hunter both curled up on the beach chairs with their eyes closed. I breathed a sigh of relief knowing Sarah and I bought ourselves at least two hours of quiet time.

Sarah reached into the cooler and grabbed a couple of water bottles as we settled on the king-size towel she’d laid out on the sand. 

She rubbed my back with another layer of sunscreen. I closed my eyes and the heavy weight of the situation lifted momentarily as her hands massaged the stress in my shoulders. The unanswered questions of why Byron took his own life left me baffled. 

“What’s on your mind?” she’d whispered only a hair louder than the crashing waves.

“Why—where did I miss something? How do you know someone from birth and be left in the cold about something this big? When did Byron start to feel helpless? Who knew what he was going through? What an asshole I am for missing something. What an asshole Byron is for leaving Hunter, Eva, me. FUCK!” I blurted all these things out in an angry, frustrated rant. The guilt and anger building on each unanswered question. My usually confident self was faltering into a shell of a man I didn’t know how to manage.

“Babe, we’re all in the same boat. Eva needs us to be strong now though. Hunter’s too young to understand, and we’re his glue right now.” Unlike me, she kept her composure and continued working out the knots in my neck.

I reached back and placed my hand on hers, giving it a squeeze. “You’re right. I’m being an asshole. I’m pissed at Byron for putting me in this place. I mean, through the years he always seemed to be the guy with his shit together. Hell, he was voted most likely to be president by our senior class.”

“I’ve been reading about this,” she said, and hesitated.

“You’ve always been the studious type. You can say the word,” I choked out.

“According to the experts I found, people who commit suicide often suffer in silence for a long time before they take action. It’s something they grapple with but are too ashamed to discuss.”

“Well, the experts don’t know everything. I knew Byron better than anyone, and this isn’t like him.” I stood abruptly and huffed off down the beach. My mind flooded with memories with each step in the warm sun. As the snippets of all the great times we shared played as vivid as a feature film, my thoughts became more conflicted than resolved.