On the Shores of Miami

3. Beach of the Summers

The drive on roads with other idiotic road users falling asleep at the wheel was a pain. The rebellious feel and relief of freedom faded after the first half hour, making it quite a boring drive down the highways and interstates, passing green grass, brown grass, yellow grass, and hey, what else but more grass?

Unfortunately, we were also some of those rides. More than once we were honked from our doze, picking up speed once more after the rude awakenings. The only time we stopped was for a snack at this worn down, empty stall in the middle of nowhere selling Oreos and cartons of milk. Kara had weakly protested, saying that we needed to move on in order to reach the highly esteemed Fontainebleau by dawn, where Kara's contact had managed to acquire beach waitressing jobs at the bar. But I went ahead to spend a little loose change to keep us going the rest of the night.

It was here I filled Kara in on the nightmarish details of what had occurred in the house. She had sat there groggily sipping at her milk, trying to process, and her eyes glazed over when I rushed through the fate of my mother. What she said after I was done tugged at the corners of my mouth: "well, no fucking wonder you were ready to leave." And I wouldn't have wanted or needed her to say anything else. Despite the fact that I had effectively committed manslaughter against my own father, I was digesting it remarkably well.

I supposed it wouldn't have mattered whose blade ended up in his gut, I mused as I pulled my helmet back on. He was dead and gone, and the world was better off without him.

Just as the sky began to streak with strands of orange, interwoven with the multiple shades of blue that were the hues between night and dawn, the first of the houses began to appear. Kara and I perked up immediately, watching as the houses gradually became bigger, transforming from simple terraces to huge grey, white and glass semi-Ds to the massive mansions that were closer to the beach front.

As soon as the first intimidating, hulking mansions of the obscenely rich came into view, the salty tang of sea water intensified, carried by gusts of wind. Palm trees began appearing, casting shady shadows onto the road, dark patches that were cooler compared to the scorching heat.

And then, in all its magnificence, materialized the Fontainebleau. A huge, curved white building with numerous floors, windows and balconies, it spanned at least one and a half football fields around the beach, effectively surrounding clusters of tall green trees with public swimming pool in its centre. Directly in front of the hotel lay the beachfront.

Taking twists and turns to follow the road that wove in, out and around, we caught glimpses of the splendour that was the Fontainebleau. Being a 4-star hotel, it was bound to be prestigious in its architecture and state of the art facilities, but damn all that to hell.

It was the beach that really stole my breath away.

My fascination with water had begun this one time my eighth grade had taken us to one of the smaller lakes, but the clear water, rocky grounds and sunshine had captivated me at first sight. Since then, whenever any of them allowed us the use of laptops, I'd always been the one look for images of beaches, waves, sunlight on golden sand. It became a dream, an impossible fantasy. But that dream took me down some dark paths, until I was finally here.

The sand flew up as we turned our bikes in at an angle and drifted down slightly. I took off my helmet and shook my hair free, relishing the breeze and the spray of seawater on my face. Behind me I could feel Kara's smirk, but the feeling was too exhilarating. I couldn't wait to take off these boots, to feel the fine white sand beneath my feet and the cold water lapping at my toes.

Seconds of pure enjoyment passed as the feeling of being free hit me again, and I was lost in my own world until Kara murmured my name. I wouldn't have answered, but something in her voice made me turn. She had whipped off her helmet and fixed her hair in the little time I took soaking up the sun and blinking away the black spots that danced in my vision, her gaze all and utterly focused on something distant in front of her.