The ringing in my ears is what first woke me. My eyes were closed but I wasn’t sure if I was conscious or under a weight somewhere deep beneath the ocean. My clothes were dry. My tongue felt too big. Like a side of it was swollen and I could taste iron in my mouth. My eyes wouldn’t open. Too bright. Too deep. The pressure was behind my eyes—inside my head. My brain. All over it, around it. My lip was heavy against the dusty wood that smelled like salt and grease. I took a few slow breathes and could hear the approaching patter of quick footsteps.
“Hey, you alright, man?”
His soft voice almost sounded like a shout in my ears. I shifted my head toward the direction of the sound and struggled to open my eyes. The lids fluttered as they revealed a blurry spray of light and form. I opened my mouth enough to make an effort.
“No,” was about all I could manage.
I felt his hand on my shoulder, helping me to roll onto my back. The decking was uneven and felt more splintered than safe. I could hear the swash of water crashing on the shore. I slowly remembered my surroundings, my reason for being here—not flat on my back but the pier.
“My neck hurts,” was a little more I could manage.
“Yeah, you look like you took a serious blow.”
I rubbed my neck slowly like my arm was barely functional. The skin felt raw and offended by my own touch. “I think something fell on me.”
“There’s nothing around here to fall, man.”
Somehow without feeling it, I was sitting upright with his hand on the back of my shoulder. He had a water bottle and was giving me sips like a mother bird. I looked around once again remembering.
“Where’s my bag?”
“What bag?”
“I had a satchel with me.”
“There’s nothing here now.”
I tried to focus harder on his face. Sweat glistened on his brow. “Who are you?”
“I was getting a morning run in, and I saw you laying here.”
There was no one else around us. I think it was early. Felt like early morning. The shops were closed and everything was wet like someone had sprayed it down, or it just rained, that made more sense. I was starting to see better.
“Did you see anyone else around here?”
“No. I just came down the boardwalk a minute ago. Whatever, or whoever happened is gone now.”
My approaching awareness began to emphasize panic. If I couldn’t find that bag…
“Do you want me to take you to a hospital or something?”
“What? No, I’ll be fine.”
“You have some blood on the back of your head. You might need stitches.”
“I said I’m fine, leave me the hell alone.”
His expression changed. Sympathy became contempt.
“I was gonna say fuck you, but I think your head might not be in the right place.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that bag…I really need to find it.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, man. I’m sorry but unless there’s some security camera around, you’re kinda out of luck.”
I looked around but couldn’t see any cameras. Not even on the light poles. What kind of public beach doesn’t have any security cameras.
“This is usually a safe place, even at night. Mostly families on vacation.”
Then why meet here? I couldn’t shake the feeling this wasn’t random. If he came and I didn’t have the bag then he got his way. I should have seen this all along. There was no way to win. No way to get her back. No way to stay alive. Everything ended.
He stood up twisting the bottle closed and shaking his legs out. “You sure you don’t want me to call someone for you?”
“No. Thanks.” I shook my head slow. He started walking away but that sentence didn’t settle with me.
“You said night…”
He stopped. Turned back to me slowly.
“What?”
“You said this is a safe place at night. That’s a strange thing to say.”
“I don’t follow. I don’t think you’re alright.”
“It’s morning.”
My wits were back enough to know who I was and what this was.
He saw it too.
He dropped the bottle and sprinted.
I forced myself up. The deck shifted beneath me, but I needed to keep him in sight.
I moved.
I couldn’t let him go.