It had been almost two years since Adina had stepped foot on Cabbage Beach. Quarantine had kept her away from her home for way too long. Almost 18 months of being inside and her normally taupe colored skin was starting to look a pale as the alabaster walls she had become too familiar with. At the beginning she enjoyed the solace, but it all became too much. Too quiet. Too cold. Too empty. She’d imagine herself occupied like Rapunzel, singing and doing the same thing over and over, day in and day out. But most days, she curled up in bed and prayed it all would end. And it did. But everything was different. Even now, three months after being freed from quarantine, the streets of The Bahamas were mostly empty. There was no hustle and bustle. No early morning work rush. Nothing. Even her flight home only had three passengers, not including herself. But none of that mattered to her. She was home.
Adina parked her car in the empty parking lot. At 6:30am, she knew the beach would be empty aside from the occasional jogger. She poked her best friend, Walker who was sound asleep in the passenger seat. He mumbled, turning over, so she shoved him.
“I feel like there was a nicer way to do that,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. She had dragged him out of bed, mostly out of fear of going alone. Adina wasn’t afraid of the beach. Most mornings she came here alone, but in the last few months, things at home had gotten bad. With tourism, the island’s main source of income completely lost and thousands without jobs, many had resorted to doing what they had to. She didn’t fully blame them, but she also knew going alone was risky.
Grabbing her backpack out her trunk, she walked down the pathway that led to the beach, pushing through overgrown bougainvillea branches and ducking under worn down barbed wire. She chuckled to herself hearing Walker attempt to make his way behind her. His yelps and ouches broke through the morning silence. It was clear that not many people had attempted to go to the beach since the shut-down. The steep stairs that led down to the beach and sand piled on from the rise and fall of the tide. Cabbage Beach on its worst days was not for the faint of heart.
She remembered riding on her uncle’s shoulders, Walker, already much taller than her then at his side as 8-foot waves crashed against the shoreline, running all the way up the beach. Those were some of the best days though. They’d find a somewhat calm spot to lay their things before running into the dangerous waves, laughing as they got tossed back onto the sand. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea to have a 7-year-old in waves three times her size, but younger Adina loved the rush. The distinct memory emptying tons of sand out of her swimsuit made her cringe now.
Today, the ocean was calm. It was like this most mornings. She walked along the oceans edge, letting the waves whisper to her. Walker had managed to get ahead of her, walking along the steep hills of sand, far away from the water. He didn’t hate the beach, but he didn’t exactly enjoy it either. She knew he only came to spend time with her. Things had been rough between them since she moved a few years ago, but when she called, letting him know she was back, he was there with open arms.
When she finally caught up to him, he had dropped the blanket she kept in the trunk in the middle of her favorite spot. Four giant Casuarina trees that had been there since she was a child towered over them, their prickly leaves and spiky bulbs already sticking to everything, but she didn’t mind. The trees blocked the sun enough that she didn’t leave the beach sunburnt.
Pulling off her shorts and t-shirt, she stretched, raising her hands towards to rising sun before she dug her feet into the still cold sand. Walker had tossed his shirt as well, but she knew in a few minutes he’d be out cold. She already saw his backpack propped in pillow position. His hair had grown out and the remnants of a recently shaved beard crept at the corner of his face. He was quiet, he always had been, while she was always the one forcing him out, dragging him places. He was the homebody in their friendship. And yet, when she did manage to get him out, he was the one that called and bought the shots. They worked that way, always had.
Adina sat there for a moment, letting the early morning sea breeze carry her golden curls. She imagined for a moment that it was welcoming her back after her long absence. In her youth, she hated the feel of the sand between her toes, but now, she welcomed the grainy feeling. Getting up, she walked to the oceans edge. The water was cool, but not the kind of cold that you had to brace yourself for. She watched as schools of tiny fish swiftly swam away at the sense of a disturbance in the water. Out the corner of her eye, she saw a crab scuttle into its hole. She listened then. She listened to the sound of the waves hitting the rocks at the edge of the beach, she listened to the stray seagull cawing and the splash of a fish, or maybe it was a stingray breaching. And when she was done, she stepped further into the ocean and dove under.
She opened her eyes, welcoming the burn the saltwater brought. A few years ago, it wouldn’t have bothered her, but it had been too long. She knew her ability to hold her breath would also struggle, but still, she stayed there for a moment, letting her eyes adjust, listening. Underwater everything was muffled. She heard a boat’s engine in the distance and the waves hitting the shoreline. A nibble on her toe from a fish caught her off guard, bringing her up for air. She wiped the water from her face, pushing her hair back before laying back to float. She felt the breeze against her skin, pulling the cold from the water away and replacing it with a feeling she could trace back to her earliest memories. She let herself breathe in and out, keeping in time with the waves. Every now and then she’d lick her lips, enjoying the taste of salt water. Every now and then, when she’d feel herself drifting, she’d pull herself back towards shore.
She was three when her mom taught her how to float. She remembered the fear, the need to feel her mother’s fingers against her back or she’d panic. Then one day, she didn’t feel her fingers leave her back. It wasn’t until she felt her mom pulling her that she realized she had drifted too far out. It might have been that day that she realized she loved the ocean. She wasn’t sure. But she knew that ever since, she looked forward to the wrinkly fingers and salt dried skin.
When she finally stepped back onto the shore, salt-water dripping from her hair and swimsuit, the sun was fully awake. She stood for a moment, soaking it in. The beach was still empty. No joggers, no vendors. Just her, the ocean, and the distinct sound of Walkers snores. She walked over to him and stood close enough that the water from her hair would drip down onto his face. The first few times he brushed it off. He turned away from her, but she shifted to the other side of the blanket.
“Stop,” he mumbled. Adina laughed, deciding to wring the rest of her hair out, causing him to jump.
“That’s not funny,” he said, sitting up.
“To you,” she replied, laughing as she sat down next to him.
She watched as he pulled a giant water bottle out of his bag, then another, passing one to her.
“You always forget,” he said.
She nodded, taking it from him. It was half frozen. The cold against her hand felt strange under the suns warmth.
The waves, still calm were moving further up the shoreline. She watched for a moment before she felt a cold stream of water slide down her back. She yelped.
“Alright, that’s not nice,” she looked over at Walker who had a smug smile on his face.
“To you.” He laughed then, a deep throaty laugh that made her smile. He turned again, rustling in his bag for a moment before pulling out a container of chopped guava, mango and papaya that she knew was for her. She looked at him for a moment, a question on the tip of her tongue. He shrugged, passing the container to her before laying back again.
Adina pulled the lid off then shifted, pressing her back against his legs. The salt from the water had dried on her skin. She stared at the way it clung to her leg hair, catching the light for a moment. The breeze shifted and she smiled, letting the suns warmth and Walker’s soft breathing remind her why she always returned home.
- to be home again // set in 2021
