I'll Carry You Away

“What the fuck is that?” Rami snapped.

I picked up a small, nickel sized crab and let it scuttle across my palm.

“Come here and touch it. It’s cute,” I said.

Rami craned her neck to see what I was holding, but refused to come closer.

“It’s creepy, Sander,” she said.

I scoffed.

“It’s just a crab!”

“Okay, yeah. It’s a fucking crab, and it’s creepy. Put it back. It probably misses Spongebob and Nemo,” she said.

“Come on, Rami! Just touch it!” I urged.

I held my arm out, but she jumped away.

“Goddammit, Sander, no! That’s probably Aquaman’s pet or something. Throw it back!” she shouted.

I smirked, and evil idea running through my mind. Rami, who had had it with me, walked back up to our towels. I let the poor creature go, the crustacean getting washed away by the surf, then picked up a bottle cap some asshole had left and threw it at Rami.

“Catch it!” I screamed.

When the red cap tapped her bare shoulder, she screamed for the whole world to hear and bolted back to the safety of the beach towels. I fell to my knees, laughing so hard that I couldn’t breathe.

“Fuck you, Sander!” Rami screamed at me.

Of course, that made me laugh harder.

“You should’ve seen your face!” I cried out.

Rami was fuming.

“I almost pissed myself, you little shit! If I had, you would have been doing my laundry for the next week!” she bitched.

I climbed to my feet and dusted the sand from my legs and wet swimwear.

“I’m not cleaning your nasty clothes,” I griped and march back up to the towels.

Rami had stretched out and was laying on her stomach, catching some rays. I looked up at the sky. My skin was on fire, and I knew I looked like a tomato. No matter how much sunscreen I put on, I was bone white. They didn’t make an SPF 400 million.

“Not even if I said please?” Rami asked.

I sat down on my towel and opened Rami’s large beach tote, pulling out a water bottle.

“Only if you’re sick as fuck or physically can’t walk,” I replied.

Rami opened an eye and looked up at me.

“So, if I have stuff coming out of both ends and can’t move from bed, you’ll do my laundry?” she questioned.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

“If you have stuff coming from both ends, you’ll be living outside!” I popped off.

Rami laughed and reached a hand out, slapping my leg.

“I’d do it for you, Sander,” she said.

I highly doubted that. If I was sick with the flu, she’d come in in a Hazmat suit and put me in a bubble. The house would look like the house from E.T., when NASA or whoever came in to take the alien.

“Let’s just vow not to get sick,” I said.

Rami sleepily nodded.

“Fine. But you know, Sander, if you ever get a man and move in with him, you’ll have to do his laundry, too,” she said.

I felt my eyes widen. The last thing in the world I was willing to do was conform to the stereotypical social norms of a woman. Fuck that!

“Bullshit! He does his own or he can take it to his mama. I’m not a fucking babysitter. Get your ass in the laundry room and do your own damn laundry,” I griped.

Rami laughed at me.

“I guess not all guys are lazy. Speaking of guys, by the way, did I tell you about this guy I saw when I was out here making you worry?” she asked.

I took a sip of my water and shook my head.

“Out here flirting, were you?” I asked.

Rami snorted.

“Hey! He started it. No. I was out here, just chilling, you know? This guy comes up next to me and he was pretty cute. Black hair. Snakebites. Not really my kind of guy, but definitely yours,” she said.

I rolled my eyes.

“He looked like he was our age. Maybe a little older. I don’t know,” she went on.

“Was he a surfer?” I asked.

Rami’s eyes widened.

“Oh, hell no! He had all these tattoos and stuff. Buff little fart,” she said, making me laugh, “He didn’t seem like a creep.”

I nodded.

“Think he lives around here?” I asked.

I immediately regretted that question. She stared at me with a shit-eating grin.

“Interested?” she asked.

I groaned.

“It was just a question, Rams. Shit!” I snapped.

Rami burst out laughing.

“I’m just messing with you, Sander! He didn’t seem like the type to live around here. Probably from L.A. or something. Visiting for the weekend. I don’t know,” she replied.

I nodded.

“Maybe he’ll be back tonight. We can come out here for a walk and just creep around. See if he shows up,” she said.

I laughed.

“Are you that desperate?” I asked, jokingly.

“No! Look, Sander, when I get a person in my head, it’s hard to get them out until I know [i]everything[/i]!”

I snorted and reached into her bag for my cigarettes, which were in an old makeup pouch I never used anymore. I didn’t see the need to bring two bags down, so I just threw my shit in her bag.

“You’re a fuckin’ stalker, dude,” I said, lighting up.

“Oh, come on, Sander!” she exclaimed, sitting up, “Aren’t you the least bit curious?”

I blew smoke out of the corner of my mouth and shrugged. Rami smirked. I could see the cogs of imagination and scheming turning behind her eyes. I was in trouble.

***

That night, I went out to the porch with my laptop for a smoke. Rami and I had went out to dinner downtown, people watching and checking out the nightlife that was coming to life before walking home so Rami could catch one of her shows. Bored, I moved to the back porch and slipped in an old DVD in the drive, then sat back with a glass of water, trying to rehydrate myself after the alcohol from dinner.
While the first episode on the DVD began, I casually looked out at the beach. The sun was below the horizon, but the dusk light was still bright enough to see by. I settled down in the patio chair and watched the black and white opening to the old TV show I took a secret guilty pleasure in. Well, Rami knew I watched it, but that was it.
As I watched the opening sequence I had seen a million times, movement out on the beach caught my eye. I looked up to see the waves and the small white reflection of the moon. No one was out on the beach, save for one person. As soon as I saw the figure, I sat forward and turned my laptop away so I could see better. This figure was seemingly dressed in all black. I wasn’t too sure, because he (I’m pretty positive it was a he), was almost a silhouette in the dim light. However, it was bright enough to see his arms and legs—both of which were tattooed. I had seen him once before when I first arrived to Huntington. I was chilling on the back porch, having a smoke and recalling my successful day of moving in, as well as scheming about how Rami wanted her room decorated before she arrived. As I was doing so, I caught the figure walking down the coast line front the south. He walked alone, sometimes with a drink in his hand, walking through the wet sand and trudging through the rising waves barefoot. He’d walk by the house, minding his own business, and disappear for a little while before walking back the way he had come. There weren’t many places to live this close to downtown, so I wondered if he lived in the condos up the beach. He didn’t look uppity enough to live there, though.
As I watched him walk by, my eyes focused on his arms, I quickly realized he may be the guy Rami had met. So, thinking quickly, I jumped up from my chair and ran through the sliding glass door to find her.

“Rami! Rami, come here!” I hissed.

I had one of those voices that carried, and I didn’t want the mystery guy to hear me wildly yelling for Rami.
I found her in the living room, a drink in her hand and a bag of popcorn in the other, her eyes locked on the TV.

“No!” she screamed at it, “You motherfucker!”

I rolled my eyes and jogged over to her.

“Rami, come here!” I hissed.

“What?” she asked, her mouth full.

“Remember that guy you were talking about? The one with the tattoos?” I asked.

She nodded, not truly listening to me.

“I think he’s out on the beach. Come look,” I said.

At that, she perked up and set her things down on the coffee table.

“Coming!” she said.

We then excitedly ran back out onto the porch. I searched for the guy, and found him standing a little ways up the beach, watching the clouds rolling in.

“Is that him?” I asked.

Rami squinted.

“No, I don’t think so. The shape is all wrong,” she said.

I snorted and glanced at her.

“Was he a shapely man?” I asked teasingly.

Rami laughed.

“Oh, yes, Sander,” she replied, playing along.

I smiled and sat back down.

“Whoever he is, I’ve seen him before,” I said.

Rami looked surprised.

“Really?” she asked.

I nodded and pressed play on my laptop.

“I think he lives around here. I’ve seen him walking the beach before you arrived. He probably lives around here,” I said.

“Either that, or he’s a homeless creep,” Rami said.

I nodded. Rami looked from the guy, who was slowly disappearing up the beach, to my laptop.

“What the hell? Not [i]The Munsters[/i] again!” she complained.

I cut my eyes at her.

“What?” I asked.

Rami huffed.

“Am I really that boring?” she asked.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

“Oh, Sander, please! This,” she pointed to the screen, “is your go-to every time you’re down.”

“I’m fine, Rami!”

She held up a finger, ready to scold me.

“Nope. I’ve heard enough. Tomorrow we’re unpacking and Monday, we’re going shopping. I need to find some wall decor, we desperately need a few kitchen essentials, and you’re going to find you something to keep your mind out of dark 1960’s comedy,” she stated.

I sighed as Rami spun around and walked back inside.

“Jesus,” I groaned.

I knew that that was an order, too.

I reached for my carton of cigarettes, only to find the damn thing empty.

“Fuck!” I spat, and threw it over the table.

Down on the beach, the mystery man was coming back. I pressed pause on the laptop and leaned forward. It was too dark now to even think about seeing who he was, but he intrigued me.

“Who are you?” I asked quietly.

Some creepy side of me wanted to learn more.

Notes

What kind of shenanigans will Rami drag Sander in to next?

I know this chapter is short, especially for me, but I'm still trying to find which direction to push, as well as just brainstorming some things. We'll see what my co-author has up her sleeve.

Chapter by: sharpiewashere