Page 7 of Chasing Lynda

3.

Hiding In Plain Sight

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Lynda

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I RUN AWAY FROM THE sea front, zig zagging between the parallel lines of loungers and umbrellas that dot the beach.

I stop in the gap between two rows of cabanas when I’m so out of breath that I think I might pass out.

I lean against the wooden wall of one of the cabanas, gasping for air and massaging my scalp with trembling hands. My skin hurts like hell where that guy pulled on my hair.

Fuck, I need a shampoo and a shower. My hair feels so greasy that I’m surprised he managed to get a grip on it.

I close my eyes, inhaling the ocean scented air and trying to get my frantic heartbeat to slow down.

That was a close call. I knew that sleeping on the beach wasn’t the safest thing but I’m running out of options these days.

At least the nights have become a little warmer and sleeping outside is a possibility again.

This would’ve been my third night on the beach. I’ve always known that it wasn’t a viable solution in the long term and those assholes who attacked me showed me that I was right.

I reach down to grab my backpack and groan, frustrated when I realize that in my hasty retreat from the beach, I left behind all my worldly belongings.

They didn’t amount to much but now all I have is literally the clothes on my back and two dollars in my pocket. I learned quickly that money is best kept on my person than in a bag or anywhere where it could be stolen way too easily.

I’ll tackle the problem of clothes and toiletries tomorrow, I think straightening back up on my feet. I’m exhausted and of course hungry. Going to sleep hungry has become the norm lately, I rarely have money to eat more than once a day; often enough, I don’t even have money for any food and have to seize any opportunity to eat for free.

My stomach rumbles in protest at the idea of another night without nourishment but it’s not like I have any choice.

Like I don’t have a choice but to find a place to sleep. I’m fading fast now that the adrenaline rush of running away from my assailants is beginning to wear off. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last year is that I need sleep to function. It’s as important as water. A tired mind is a sloppy mind and I can’t afford any mistakes.

I look around, relieved that no one seems to have followed me. Thankfully not the assholes who thought they could have their way with me in exchange for a cheap beer and a bag of chips and not the guys who helped me out of trouble.

I could go back to the beach but I don’t want to. On the off chance that some of those assholes could come back or even worse, that the other guys called the cops.

I look at the line of wooden cabanas that stretches along most of this part of the beach. These are basically shacks that people rent out for the season to change in when they come to the beach and to leave all their beach items in at the end of a day of fun.

I think that sleeping in one of the cabanas would be nice. It’s the end of May and it still gets pretty cold outside in the early hours of the morning, especially if there’s a breeze blowing from the ocean.

All the pastel color painted doors of the cabanas have padlocks securing them. Old fashioned but definitely effective.

I could try to pick a lock, but I have nothing I can use. I had a couple of bobby-pins but they’re gone with my backpack.

Just when I think that the beach is my only option after all, I spot one door without a padlock on the last cabana of the row.

I silently thank the beach gods that I have a place for the night. These cabanas have electricity, they’re more luxury than the ones I remember on the Gulf as a kid, when my parents would take me on vacation. Before Dad met Harold Winthrop. Before the church. Before everything turned to shit.

I switch the light on and close the door behind me, grateful that there’s a deadbolt on the door so I can feel relatively secure.

Of course I know better than to keep the light on too long, just in case there’s security patrolling the beach. There are no windows in the cabana but the light could filter out from under the door and I don’t want to get caught.

However, I can have a quick look around the small hut so I can settle down for the night.

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