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On The Beach Contest - 2019

The sky was almost white with a flotilla of dull, steel grey clouds, their bases tinged with a dark orange that looked like rust. There was little or no breeze and the minimal slurping surf only moved in and out over about five feet of shoreline.

The man ran at a steady pace right on the edge of the water. His runners slamming the packed sand with a rhythmic thud. Beside him, tongue flopping from its open mouth, the dog kept pace with ease, occasionally glancing at the man as he altered his path slightly every so often.

Shore birds strutting in tiny clusters by the shore pecking for tidbits in the sand, suddenly scattered in a dizzying pattern as the threat of an intruder bore down on them. The man's stride lengthened as he leaned forward trying to maintain his balance, one hand scrabbling at his chest and his mouth opening in noisy gasps.

Above the beach a row of up market homes flaunted extravagant patios and decks, the owners oblivious to the grandeur of a golden sunset on the ocean or the faint pleas of the man dragging himself across the beach away from the water. The dog bounced around him, barking and tail wagging, occasionally nudging the man in confused play.

He dug desperate fingers into the loose sand, gaining only inches at a time as he looked up to the back of the nearest house and tried to call for help. The dog's barking and the man's pleas went unnoticed by the young woman wearing headphones and reading a fashion magazine.

By the time the sun had disappeared and the tide began rolling in, the man had gasped his last and the dog just sat beside him silently, until the water began disturbing the body. It barked and whined a few times, dancing around in the rising water then sat again as the body gradually slipped away with each retreating wave.

***

"Oh damn, I knew I shouldn't have worn these sandals down here." The woman, one hand holding her floppy hat, bent down and took the offending sandal from her foot.

"So, Moyra, what did you tell Harry?"

Moyra shifted the towels and her beach bag to a more practical position. "I said to him I said, Harry, either we get the new rug for the living room or there will be no new car in the driveway."

"And what did Harry say?"

"What do you think he said, Iris, he said, I'll park it in the garage . . . oh, let's go further down that way. I don't want to sit near that dog."

"What's that it's sitting beside?" Iris raised her flowered sunglasses and leaned forward squinting.

"I don't kno- oh my good God! Iris, Iris it's a- a body!"

***

The uniforms and the detective stood several yards away from the body, discussing the situation. It had been impossible to get closer with risking an attack from the snarling dog so they were waiting for animal control to arrive.

"Find some sticks or something and set up a perimeter tape before all these rubbernecks trample all over the scene." The detective frowned at the dog, and turned away wiping a finger under his nose.

He ploughed through the sand, cursing silently as it spilled into his shoes, and greeted the two women who reported the body with their frantic 911call.

"I'm Detective, Peter Blake. You ladies called this in?" He offered a reassuring smile.

"I saw this dog and it was-"

"I saw the dog first, Iris." Moyra butted in. "I said, Iris I said, I don't want to sit near-"

"Yes, but I saw the body first." Iris raised her shoulders and moved slightly closer to the detective. "And I just got my phone out and called the 911 number."

"Aah, okay, you called it in. Did you see anything else? Any other people? Was there anything near the body . . . besides the dog I mean?"

Moyra just lifted her chin and looked away. Iris shook her head, no.

***

"Learn anything?" The uniform asked, watching his partner tie the yellow tape to bits of driftwood stuck in the sand.

"Yeah. Interview 101, separate witnesses beforehand."

The uniform grinned and waved to the animal control personnel jogging toward them.

"Coulda just tossed something at it you know. Probably would have taken off."

"What, and miss the famous pet people in action?"

"Okay, let's just get this done. The coroner needs to do his examination." Detective Blake gave a hand signal to the tired looking medical examiner leaning against the railing of the stairs leading to the beach.

Several passive attempts were finally followed by a concerted attack with a large net that left one man face down in the sand and the other with his foot caught in the net, both destroying the scene around the body and nearly landing right on top of it. The dog yelped and raced away down the beach, soon but a small dot in the distance.

"So much for evidence." Blake spat, glaring the animal control pair away from the scene.

"Wouldn't have mattered much, Detective. Your corpse had a heart attack."

"No sign of foul play?"

"Nope. Not here anyway. Best guess he bought it runnin' judging from the outfit, and it was yesterday some time, drifted out and in with the tide.

"Hell, you mean that dog sat here all night!"

"Hafta ask it that one, Detective." The coroner struggled to his feet, brushed his pants and lumbered back across the sand. "I'll chop 'im up this 'saft and give you my report in the mornin' but it was a heart attack I'm bettin'."

Blake watched the orderlies bag the body and drag the sled back to the stairs and the waiting ambulance. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared out across the water, happy the old guy wasn't killed, disappointed he wouldn't have a new case to work, just a lot of paperwork.

He turned back and looked up at the homes backing onto the beach, decks and patios and wondered how nobody saw what happened in plain view down where he stood. He heaved a huge sigh and made his way back to his car. The yellow crime scene tape blew erratically around from the sudden breeze, anchored only by one determined stick.

***

"What happened down there, babe." The man wandered onto the deck eating grapefruit from a bowl. "Babe?" He walked over and tapped her head with his spoon.

"Ouch!" The woman pulled her headphones off and gave him a dirty look. "What the hell was that?"

"I was talking to you. I asked what was goin' on down on the beach."

She half rolled to one side and peered through the deck railing. "What, I don't see anything."

"There was a crowd of people and some cops. See the yellow tape? I think they found something."

She shrugged, "I dunno. Nothing important I guess, they're all gone."

He wandered to the rail and leaned on it, slurping the juice from his bowl. He watched the dog trot along the shoreline and stop by the tape. It sniffed around in circle and then sat staring at the water. After a moment it lifted its head and howled a long mournful sound.

"Hmph. I don't know why they don't ban dogs from the beach. Noisy, dirty."

He dumped the remainder in his bowl over the rail and walked back inside.

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