A Walk in the Sand

I found his attitude extremely amusing, as did everyone except the white-haired gentlemen, who stood with arms crossed all flustered, standing his ground. Four of the white-haired man's friends were cupping their ears trying to hear the exchange, their strained faces emoting a frustrated annoyance. A man and woman, who were much older than the white-haired man, stood as if to defend the line in the sand, if not to hear the conversation better.

"Leave him be! I like looking at it," I heard Diane bellow out. "It's a hell of a lot more interesting than what you got going on."

One of the girls on the other side of our small crowd must have just noticed me because in a moment of silence, having now noticed my erection, she blared out, "Oh my god, his dick is huge! Look at that stick out like that! I bet he'd be easy to track in the sand!"

More laughter and jeers ensued, which drew the attention of others. The woman closest to the white-haired man, who was sagging well into her eighties, said, "That's not right, to go around aroused like that. What do you think the children would make of that?"

A petite girl a little younger than me, and quite well developed, said, "Let his freak flag fly!" then threw an ice cube in jest, inadvertently striking the elderly woman on the cheek.

One of other girls still laughing exclaimed, "God has a big dick!"

The tall guy said to the white-haired man, "If you had one like that, I'd bet you'd want to show it off, wouldn't you? You hypocrite!"

The others took up the chant. "God has a big dick. God has a big dick..." laughing and tickling each other all the while. It was a thing to see, how they rallied behind me like that.

Shaking his head in frustration, the white-haired man said, "Nudity has nothing to do with sexuality. This is no place to get excited. If you want to masturbate, go home and do it, not on our sand."

I cried after him, "It's a nude beach. I'm nude, so give me a break! What do you expect? You must be dead if these naked girls don't excite you! I'm sorry if you have a problem there, but don't take it out on me."

Whom I assumed to be the upset woman's husband tried to calm his wife by saying, "No need to get upset, Hazel. The freak kid is out to get attention, is all. Let him play his games and ask for forgiveness for his sins of youth when he grows older. Remember how we did silly things when we were young?"

She, in turn, held her chest and shook her head scolding me."That's not right. A married woman should not have to see an under-aged boy in such a condition," her voice trailing off into a cough. "Not that you are not a nice looking boy..." she said, her eyes bulging a stare at my mid-section. Hazel crossed her arms and strained into another deeper cough, her exhale a shallow pant. "Ohh...oahhh... my chest..."

"She's having another heart attack!" her husband fretted. "Get her pills. Where is her purse?" he asked frantically. A scuffle ensued that resulted in her husband's awareness that Hazel had left her pills at home. Her heart went into fibrillation and finally gave out, her legs twitching uncontrollably. She was as dead as the small fiddler crab that lay underneath her worn-out body. When the tall athletic man came to assist, her husband said not to bother, that she knew she was sick and going to die soon. "Do not resuscitate, is what she wanted; there is nothing that can be done," the old man said grief stricken. "She loved this beach. Better it occur here, I guess."

****

The State police were called and arrived shortly after the ambulance. Wearing a borrowed beach towel I found myself standing in a cold florescent-lit room in back of the concession building. The bench I was sitting on was so hard my ass started to hurt after a short while, the thin fabric of the towel thin and not much of a cushion. I wrote a statement as to what had occurred. Feeling inspired, trying to adjust my position to get comfortable, I ended my five paragraph report, "I did not kill that woman with my dick no matter what the others might say!"

I marched the papers over to Officer Smiley's desk ten paces away, adjusting my itchy ass in the process. Upon my return I inspected the bench to find it clean and dry, so I sat back down and got back up again, my right cheek burning. The officer looked at me, red-faced by the distraction, his non-verbals telling me to remain seated.

"Can I go now? This place is bothering me," I mildly pleaded.

Reading the file, Officer Smiley- a man with the build of a retired football linebacker- said, " You may have not killed her with it, but it was a contributing factor. Why the hell were you walking around with, and let me quote one of the girls here, 'a foot-long erection,' showing it to old ladies who might have a heart attack?"

Feeling hurt and demoralized by his sentiment, I said, "You know, you may not believe this, but before today- before about four hours ago- I didn't know that I was larger than average. I got dragged down to this beach by my friend, Cindy, who said I needed to take my clothes off or go wait in the car... no idea I was going to a nude beach, and here I am. Never been naked in public before- not even in a locker room. So, her sister, Janelle, said I was fine naked and no matter what state I was in, that everybody would be naked, too, and I wouldn't take notice. Well, they did take notice. How can I take responsibility for how someone else acts when they see another person naked?"

The rugged-looking officer said, "Yeah, but why are you walking around with an erection on a string for those girls to lead you around with? Think the regulars would not take notice? You could go in the water or lay down for a while." He looked at me in mock disgust, blurting out, "Don't you feel degraded by how they were treating you like a piece of meat?"

I said, "I was having fun, getting to know the girls is all. As for the erection, I get hard-ons all the time. And being so big, well, it's the way GOD made me, so he must be right. If I had a choice, I'd wish for him to make me taller. So far, I'm not sure what use a large penis can do for me, but you are right: my dick is a piece of meat. So, why are you making such a big deal out of how god made me? The sin is yours, good sir, to not love your neighbor no matter how they are clothed. And I was not seduced, so I am not degraded in the least."

He laughed, saying, "I'm not looking for a fight, Son. I'm just trying to give some advice because I'm fifty-six years old and know a few things. I don't see how you broke any statutes, but you can't return here as a visitor. I'm going to have my brother- he is chief of security for a few of these beaches- restrict you from the nude beaches in this area and make a note on Miss... Higigure's card. We do not tolerate troublemakers at our nude beaches, Son. They yield great revenue for our town. I'm sorry, but you have to go."

Here I thought I found a home, being so well received. Now, banished back into my clothing, I felt a tinge of empathy for Adam just after he got the boot to the fig leaves. I sulked my way toward the door, turned and asked, "Are you sure you want to ban me, Sir? I didn't do anything illegal. Can't I come back? You have such a fine beach here. Just about everyone liked me." I felt tempted to tell him I'd not eat any more of that scrumptious apple.

Officer Smiley shook his head. "I don't want the old girls to see you naked, else they may perish. Yes, a ban may save an old biddies life for another day. I'm sorry, Billy. Off to Michigan with you." He popped open a can of Coke and handed it to me. "Now, have a good life."

****

I shuffled out to the main portico looking for Cindy and the girls. No go. I went to where we were parked and the car was gone. I figured Janelle must have gotten pissed about me making a scene and ditched me. So, I went to where we pitched camp to find all they left me were my sandals atop a five dollar bill that was probably taken out of my wallet since that was all that was in there. It was wrapped up in the long strand of the pink ribbon, stuck under a small hand towel.

Ostracized by the authorities, shunned by my new friends, I felt destitute. I considered picking up an empty can to ask for money so I could get a cab. And clothes. My fucking clothes and wallet were gone. To make matters whores, in the bathroom I realized why my ass hurt... it was sunburned! Darla treated me right in the front, but both she and I forgot to take care of my Lilly-white buttocks, which now appeared a darkening strain of red. I wandered aimlessly toward the parking lot not sure what to do next. The concrete omitted a wave of heat that bent the light as I walked down the beach road leading to the highway. No Escalade in sight.

A Nissan Sentra whipped by, stopped abruptly and then rolled back toward me. Driving was the tall athletic college guy's girlfriend, Diane. She smiled and said, "Hey, big dick Billy." I could see her boyfriend in the passenger's seat. I waived enthusiastically, moving toward her window feeling hopeful.

"Man, am I glad we found you," he said leaning excitedly over her. "That towel... it's my mom's towel, Man. My mom loves that towel and I thought you'd give it right back once you made it to your blanket. I'm Robbie, by the way, and this is Diane. And you are Billy, right?"

"No," Diane corrected him. "He's 'big dick' Billy."

"My friends left me here, Robbie! They took off while I was talking to the state police officer," I said feeling upset again. "Look, you have to give me a ride home. I can do with some help." As an after thought, I said to Diane, "Thanks for standing up for me earlier. I appreciate it. That old white haired man was an asshole."

"I'm all for extremely large hard cocks bobbing up and down the beach. I will defend with my life your right to have one," Diane said like a lawyer in court, her comment sounding somewhat familiar.

"We can't give you a ride because we have to get to work. I'm late already. Look, I really need that towel; Mom would kill me if I lost it because it used to be my brothers," said Robbie with a overtone of lament.

"Have you got some clothes I can wear?" I asked desperately.

"All I have is this uniform. Hon, can you give him your towel or do you have some sweats in the car we could give him?" asked Robbie of his girlfriend.

"No!" Diane said flustered by the request. "It's brand new and I don't want to give it up. I'm fucking broke."

"I have five bucks. Can you take this?" I asked holding up the five spot hopefully. "I'll make sure you get it back tomorrow, I swear!"

She shook her head defiantly. She spoke to Robbie. "He has a towel... the one he has on top of his head. He can use that."

"It's too small," I said. "It's a kitchen towel."

Robbie reached in the back seat and grabbed Diane's new beach towel. We exchanged the towels through the rear window. I threw him the five and it fluttered to the seat, where he snagged it. He said, "I'll make up the difference."

"No!" Diane said. "Robbie, we talked about this shit. You said you'd stop giving my stuff away when you feel it's right." She took hold of the towel in my hands and stomped her foot on the gas, her towel snapped from my grasp, now waiving like a defiant flag out the window as they sped out of my life.

"SHIT! What a bitch," I screamed to myself.

I took the small towel off my head and held it against my genitalia. Not only did I loose my towel, but also, I lost the fucking money! Now, my unprotected ass was in the sun again. So, I turned to walk back to the concession area sideways, since it put my rear in the shade. And who do I see standing next to his Bronco police vehicle? Officer Smiley, who was scanning the growing crowd looking for someone no doubt, perhaps me. Embarrassing as it was, I needed his help.

Half way across the parking lot I caught a glimpse of a man walking fast toward me. I turned and recognized it was the old guy with the white hair wearing a silly looking hat, which I thought strange since his mother had just died. His bright Hawaiian shirt and white pants seemed festive. I looked down and what do I see? He also wore a butchers knife in his right hand, and his face was contorted with rage!

"How about I cut that prick off for you, you son of a bitch!" the white-haired man screamed at a full sprint.

I threw my towel in his face just at the right time and averted his thrust, the knife swishing by my tummy as I sucked it in. I knew better than to try to reason with him. I wanted to make a run to the cop, but the path was blocked, so I took off toward the water, running as fast as I could. Not sure why, but I felt like I could run faster totally naked, so I kicked off my sandals. It did help. He chased me and I watched as he lost his footing on the sandy pavement, giving me a twenty pace lead as we rushed into the dunes toward the low tide waterline. Making a trek around a dune I inadvertently ran into a middle-aged couple and decked the guy. I rolled and was up in an instant. "Sorry!" I yelled, as I tried to regain my lead in the shifting sand.

Turning to see how close he was, I noticed his pace had slowed. That was when I ran into the fifty-five gallon drum trashcan dead on. It knocked the air out of me and crushed my hip. I rolled to my side trying to catch my breath, the hot sand burning my now-sensitive tush. As the stars cleared, I could see the outline of a man standing ten paces from me, moving slowly, wheezing as if he were a pack-a-day smoker. I blotted the tears from my eyes with my arm and confirmed it was he who was chasing me.

"If it wasn't for you, my mother would still be alive right now," said the white-haired man with panting breath that held an overtone of justification. "It won't hurt much. I'll slice it off clean... and shove it in you mouth. It will choke you like it did my mother. That seems fitting for you, Boy."

Shaking my head, I rolled away from him, but not fast enough. He landed a powerful fist on my jaw and I fell back down covering my face.

"John Turret," said a voice thirty paces away. "Freeze and put down the knife or I will shoot you. Do it now, or I will fire."

Holding my hands up in a defensive posture akin to a female cat protecting herself, I could see my best of friends, Officer Smiley, standing in a firing position with his gun drawn.

"He killed my mother and embarrassed me. He deserves to die," said Mr. Turret, no longer moving toward me.

"Drop the knife and we will talk. I don't want to shoot you, Sir, but I will. Make no mistake," said the good officer.

"No! You can't tell me what to do just because Mother died today. This boy deserves to be punished, but you didn't arrest him, did you? Go, and let me castrate him. The cocky fuck deserves it, making this beach a mockery of what it's supposed to be." He waived the knife at me, the blade shimmering while he moved it. He took a step toward me, within range of a strike.

"Hold, Sir! Not another move or I will fire. This is your final warning," said the officer looking deadly serious. I got the sense that he'd had to shoot to kill before. He took a step closer still in firing position.

The stern warning gave Mr. Turret a moment to pause. He looked at me squirming naked in the sand, unable to find traction without exposing myself further. He raked his face with his free hand, wiping sweat from his brow, contemplating his next move.

The disturbed man said, "I... I don't know what's gotten into me," as he relaxed his stance, sounding inappropriately casual considering a gun was tracking his move. "It's that, it's not every day you loose your mother. And to have her go like that... it's a travesty. Such a beautiful woman that was my mom should not go that way, you see."

That's when he made his move. He lunged toward me with a grunt fast as lightening, knife at the end of his extended arm, smiling happily like a clown handing a child a balloon. I tried to roll, but he was so close now. I struck my legs out toward him and missed. Then, BOOM! The shot from Officer Smiley's gun kicked out a blast of fire that extended out two feet from the muzzle, and in slow motion I watched the bullet rip through Mr. Turret's wrist, the knife wheeling past my head, followed by a spray of blood and the man's scream. His empty hand slapped my face and smeared me with blood. He kept coming at me with his arm bleeding profusely, trying to get a hold on my slippery neck with his good hand.

"I'll kill you, you son of a bitch," he wailed. "Think a bullet will stop me. You... ahhhh!"

That was when Officer Smiley hit him in the head with his service baton. SMACK! Right on his forehead. It knocked him cold and he fell into me, drenching me in his blood. By the time I got up, onlookers were responding to the gunshot. A young man ran over and gave Mr. Turret first aid in the form of a tourniquet.

An attractive black woman in a one-piece bathing suit came up to me, said she was an RN, then inspected the front of my blood spattered body, asking me if I was hurt or cut. I shook my head still in shock, not sure myself it he landed a blow with that sharp knife or not. "You sure got sunburn back here. That white ass is pretty pink now." She smacked my cheeks to remove the sand. "The blood will come off, but you are going to have a hard time with that sunburn," she said. Later on- before I got into the back of the Bronco- she slipped me her name and number and asked me to call her, if I had any interest in talking about what happened.

Even though Mr. Turret was out like a light, the officer cuffed him face down in the sand. He said into the microphone on his shoulder, "I have him. He is in my custody. Bring the cruiser over now, Jack, if you would, and send for an ambulance. And the boy needs some clothes." He turned to me and said, "Didn't I tell you to put some clothes on and go home?" He pondered this for a moment then said, "Perhaps it's better it worked out this way, since we have him in custody. I had a feeling about him."

"You are one hell of a shot. Thanks, you saved my life. That was close," I said with sincere gratitude.

****

Having involved myself in the receiving end of an assault, I was driven to the headquarters where I gave a video testimony. They let me take a shower, gave me some unfitting clothes to put on and I was told I should not leave town. Four hours later my Aunt Peg picked me up at the police station with a change of clothes. She was confused about the details and I did my best to fill her in without offering too much of the truth. My aunt is pretty cool and she knew not to probe too much at that very moment, but I could tell she knew there was more to the story. She bought us fast food and we settled into the den at home to watch television.

The six o'clock local news was on and after a few lead stories, the woman anchor sitting next to her rigid co-host said, "Tom, some strange local news this evening. Apparently, there was a commotion down at Lido Beach, where the rich hang out naked, from what I am told. We don't have all of the details, but a young man was accused of murdering an old woman with his... I'm not sure how to word this..."

I stopped eating.

The male anchor, who was wearing a putrid yellow tie, cut in and said, "Nude beach... hmmm... with his dingy spout?" This raised chuckles from off-stage. "What, did he beat her to death with it, Caroline?"

"I don't know. We have a brief report from Robin Atwood, who was onto the story once the police were called in. Robin, are you there?" asked Caroline.

"Yes, I am, Caroline, and hello, Tom. It is a strange day at the beach, especially since this occurred on private property at the exclusive Lido Beach during a party. We are still not sure if this was a murder or if the boy brought about the heart attack of an elderly nudist after taunting her with his body, which then incited her son to attack this boy with a large knife. The police officer on call fired and shot the knife right out of his hands, from what I am told. The woman is dead and other injuries were reported, and the man who assaulted this teenager is in custody at the hospital. Now, we were not admitted onto the property, but I did get one interview from a witness who was there."