Dolphins at Dusk

Maria leaned back in the red easy chair and glanced out the window taking in everything she had
just heard. Mr. Jameson continued to drone on as she blankly stared at the ocean in the distance.

“We expect you to have your desk cleaned out and your office vacated by five o’clock today. If
there is a problem with this let me know.” Pause. “I am sorry, Maria, but we just can’t afford to
keep you on with your recent work habits, or lack there of. I am sure you understand that it’s better
in the long run.”

Better. Harrumph. How could it be better? In two years nothing had gotten better. “Is that all, Mr.
Jameson?” Maria managed to squeeze the words out from her stomach which felt as though a
tsunami had formed within it as she rose from her seat. He handed Maria his hand. Maria looked at
him in shock and disbelief. “Yea like I’d shake that ass hole’s hand.” She turned to leave but
Jameson stopped her.

“Maria, try to get some help.”

Get some help. She had no idea how many times in the last two years she had heard that. Her
parents. Her friends. Her co-workers. Her ex. All of them, like broken records, set to play one right
after the other. Her new mantra: “Get some help.” Every time she heard it she wanted to scream,
wanted to tear her hair out, wanted to make them feel what she was feeling. If it had been that easy
she would have done it. She had tried therapy. She left every office feeling exhausted, as if she had
just sat through a three hour lecture. Her mind had become jumbled with terms. Denial. Self-pity.
Survivors’ guilt; that was her favorite.

What a novel idea, guilty because she had survived. No shit. Two years and every night Elsie was
her last thought, and every morning, her first. Maria was guilty. She had pushed her away just days
before, had made her leave, had made her run away. How could she not feel guilty? Elsie had been
there for her and when she needed Maria most, Maria had been selfish, involved with her new job
and new boyfriend. So yes, she felt guilty. And now look. Maria was 24, single, jobless and without a
best friend.

She threw her belongings into boxes and the boxes into her car and began to drive. She drove
west, to the only place she could feel free, the ocean. She and Elsie had spent countless days
sunning themselves on the crisp Florida beaches, drinking cheap beer and flirting with dangerous
men. They would spend all day lying under the sun until their skin turned the crisp, toasty bronze
that they both desired and had aptly named “Belgian waffle” brown before they would move inside
where the night would continue with Pina Coladas or Margaritas. Inevitably one or both of the girls
would meet up with their dangerous man of the day, leave for a few hours, and return with stories
and a much coveted article of clothing stolen from the homme de jour. But their late nights always
ended in the same way: laughing on a beach with some of the finest Mary Jane rolled into a nice,
perfect, joint for two.

“It was heaven”, Maria thought as she continued her drive towards sanity, then chuckled at the
irony of it all. Two years ago she had known what heaven was. Two years ago she had believed in
the “master plan” that she had been brought up with. You know the schpiel, God, Heaven, Hell. If
this was His master plan, then where did she fit in, she pondered as she parked her car and looked
out at the waves crashing in front of her.

She grabbed the beach chair from her trunk that she kept for emergencies such as this and
stepped onto the sand, still warm from the bright sun beating on it all day. She walked along the
surf, carefully avoiding the hearts drawn by lovers that dotted the Florida beaches every year at this
time; the young girls with their dangerous men.

She had no idea how many times Elsie and she had drawn their names in the sand with a Matt,
Cory, Sean and maybe even a Boris or two and sworn that this time was different. But there it was,
by the next week the girls would be out on the sand panning the crowds for their new “true love”
who would then take them on a sunset walk and draw their name in the beach, on that same sand
that had been washed clean by the waves of the preceding week, erasing old memories and fake
promises of love.

If only it were that simple, Maria thought. She looked out over the waves at the sun setting over the
beach. This was her favorite time of night, dusk. Elsie had been adamant about staying on the
beach until she saw at least one dolphin. She called them her alarm clock. The Dolphins always
seemed to come at the same time, just about sunset. Elsie’s obsession was dolphins. She would
dive through the waters convinced that they would swim with her, but never once did she catch up
with them. When the dolphins had come and gone, Elsie would pack her things and go home

One night she dove in after them and, after failing to catch them, ran back to Maria and plopped
herself down in the sand. She stared out into the ocean as the dolphins swam into the sunset. “I
just want to go with them, to see what they see, to know what they know. I want to see the sun; I
want to play in the surf. I want them to take me with them, you know?”

Maria smiled at the memory. Elsie had looked so beautiful sitting their, the sun hitting her face in
such a way that shocked Maria and caused her to turn away, as though she were catching a
glimpse of something she was not deserving to look at. Elsie had looked peaceful, wise, but most of
all, angelic.

Maria rose slowly and walked towards the water’s edge. She hesitated at the cool feel of the sea
water, but continued her paces, slow and steady. As the water level rose and the waves crashed
higher and higher up her body, Maria felt something smooth and comforting brush up against her
leg. Then she felt another. She dove in after them, knowing quite well that she was in the midst of a
pod of dolphins. She surfaced and closed her eyes. Smiling she knew what Elsie would want. She
dove under again, allowing herself to become engulfed by the serenity of the water and the feel of
swimming with these large beings. At last she had reached the comfort she had been searching
for. At last she was at peace.