Ropes

The wind came down from the canyon with a quite heat It was to his back as he faced the crashing waves He watched the pelicans skimming the rolling surf The sun warmed sand felt comforting beneath his feet Turning north, he walked casually, avoiding people His gaze focused on a distant grey pier, jutting seaward Its high corralled pilings, like a distant dark forest maze The weathered wooden railed boardwalk, filled with paired tanned strollers His thoughts returned to the previous night’s bonfire The broken sounds of guitar, spiked with mixed laughter Her soft saddened eyes and quick smile in the firelight The pain and guilt of his infant lack of courage Stopping at the pier, observing his outer surroundings He stepped gingerly between the tar soaked darkened towers Halfway through, he halted and looked upward, the rope dangling there Her feet still, suspended above him, her dead eyes bulging Her pregnancy, as of yet, was not evident The strict Christian family hadn’t been informed They slept in the beach house above the now cooled fire He reached and flicked the sand from the souls of her feet The sound of approaching sirens gave him a sudden pause Making him remember the phone clutched in his sweaty hand He walked back down the shore as the police cars now arrived Soon afterwards, the ambulance came to a screeching halt Sandpipers scurried before him as he approached In a kind of dream, he slowly climbed the stone steps Once on the plush balcony, he slid the glass door Removing the pistol from his khaki trousers He observed her face in the framed family photographs As he drifted down the wooded paneled hall, gun in hand He stopped at an imposing mahogany bedroom door Pressing down on the brass handle, he moved inside, relaxed The sleeping couple lies in the ample sized bed Stopping at the foot of the padded comforter Lifting his pistol, he pointed it carefully A loud bang and all was blackness, and he forgot Reaching for his radio, the trooper lowered his gun With the sleepers screaming from the bed, he raised a finger They were silenced as he quickly called for extra backup He checked the boy for a pulse, all was still, peaceful The gulls hovered above the great house and the crowded pier Watching flashing vehicles and curious gawkers mill By noon, the excitement went out with the receding tide In the sunset, ropes of yellow tape flapped a story’s end. © Copyrights G. Jones 2008