Page 3 of A Line in the Sand
Max groaned into the sand, and then a wet, warm tongue swiped the side of his face. Someone was attempting mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but they were doing a terrible job of it.
“I’m fine,” he said.
Max wasnotfine. His gut churned with equal parts nausea and humiliation. This was the first day of his new life in Turtle Beach, North Carolina. He’d hoped to slip seamlessly into the sleepy little town by the sea, not land with such a splash—pun definitely not intended. Max wasn’t a punny person in the slightest. An ex-girlfriend had once told him that he had a PhD in place of a sense of humor.
“Ursula,no,” the mermaid said.
Max squinted at her through sand-crusted eyes, but all he saw was an extreme close-up of a face that was distinctly canine in nature, as opposed to mythical sea creature-esque. The dog, a tiny white-and-chestnut-colored spaniel, licked Max’s face again in direct opposition to the mermaid’s command.
Max turned his head. Three elderly women gripping aluminum walkers loomed over him. A dog the size of a squirrel sat trembling in the basket of one of the walkers. The block lettering on its identification tag spelled out the word NIBBLES.
Where on earth am I?
Max had known that a small island like Turtle Beach would be different from Baltimore, but his Uncle Henry had in no way prepared him for how truly quirky it apparently was.
Mermaids? Little toy spaniels named Ursula? And why so many dogs? An enormous poodle with pink bows on its ears poked at Max with a narrow snout. He felt like Alice, falling down a very deep and uncommonly sandy rabbit hole.
Ursula came toward him again, pink tongue lolling out of the side of her tiny mouth. Max sat up in order to avoid another attempt of mouth-to-mouth. He coughed a few times, rubbed his eyes, and when he opened them, he found the mermaid staring down at him. Not a hallucination after all. And here he thought she’d just been an imaginary by-product of his near-death experience.
“You’re from out of town, aren’t you?” The mermaid jammed her hands on her iridescent, scaly hips.
The scales weren’t real, obviously. They appeared to be satin, covered in copious amounts of sequins. Now that Max had gotten a proper look at the woman, he realized that she was in costume, of course. Still, how odd.
“Yes.” Max nodded. “Just arrived today.”
He didn’t have the energy to say more. It took every last shred of energy to form words and pull himself to his feet.
“You’re really not supposed to swim this close to the crest. The riptide is too strong beyond the shallows,” she said.
Strands of long, wet hair clung to her face. Max had the absurd notion to peel it away from her eyes and kiss her full on the lips, right there in front of the growing collection of dogs and retirees surrounding them.
He angled his head toward her, searching her gaze. “You saved me.”
It was a statement, not a question. She’d been the one who’d just pulled Max from the water. In his panic, he’d thought he’d imagined a mermaid coming to his rescue. She’d been real, though. Go figure.
“Indeed she did,” one of the senior citizens said. She wore purple glasses and an identical expression to the corgi panting at her feet.
“It was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen,” the woman beside her—the Chihuahua enthusiast—gushed.
The mermaid rolled her eyes, and her porcelain face went seashell pink. She shoved his glasses at him. “It wasn’t romantic in the slightest.”
Disappointment settled in Max’s gut, along with what felt like a liter of salt water. He wasn’t thinking clearly at all. Had he hit his head on something in the ocean?
He slid his glasses in place. The lenses were hopelessly smudged so he removed them and tucked them into the pocket of his sodden dress shirt. As he did, a small fish leapt out and flopped onto the sand.
Max glanced down at it. The tiny critter was aMembras martinica, more commonly known as a rough silverside. He picked it up by the tail and tossed it back into the surf before returning his attention to the mermaid.
“You called me Wilson.” Max felt his lips twitch into a grin.Cast Away.He loved that movie. “The name’s Max, actually.”
The mermaid eyed him with concern and crossed her arms. She started to shiver like Nibbles. “And you’re okay, right? Do I need to call 911 or anything?”
“I’m fine,” Max repeated. He’d already made enough of a spectacle of himself. The last thing he needed was to add sirens to the mix. He cleared his throat. “Are you okay, though? You look…”Beautiful.“Cold.”
“I’m just peachy.” She gave him a grim smile and wrapped her arms tighter around her torso, which was decorated with a sparkling assortment of strategically placed starfish, shells, and pearls.
Max did his best to look elsewhere.
The little spaniel yipped and came toward him with a full body wiggle. Max bent to scoop the dog into his arms. The tiny thing couldn’t have weighed more than six or seven pounds, but he could barely lift her. He felt himself sway a little on his feet. Almost drowning was exhausting.
