“The oldest legend of Kenlow island is the Midnight’s Day. A magical night, a time of the dire, and the wonderful. From sundown to sunrise, a strange wakish light pervades. Not quite dusk, and not quite night. It is then, and then only that strange and magical things can happen. No one knows for sure when it will come. No one knows for sure why it comes. But the locals say that if you listen, very, very closely you can voices on the waves.”

And so Sam  stood, staring at the water, trying to hear it talking. He shouldn’t be surprised, he realized. Of course the waves don’t talk. But just now, just today, he really wanted them to. So he fazed out everything around him, and listened, and felt. And there, for a moment, he thought he heard something. Something calling his name.

“You coming?” He nodded and swished his way through the shallowing water, back to his family. Dad was picking up the beach towels now, folding them. But Aira and Tommy were both grinning those stupid grins. Sam’s good ocean mood evaporated before he even stepped out of the water.

“What?” he demanded.

“We’re going to get lunch?” Aira said, her annoying sing-song voice like she was saying something very obvious to someone very slow. “You coming?”

Sam looked down at the little girl in dark pigtails. How, he wondered, did a nine-year-old he remembered holding in the hospital, turn into this sarcastic little girl doing her nails on the beach? And everyone thought she was cute! If they only knew.

“How would I know you were ready to go?” Sam asked. He knew the answer as soon as he asked it, of course.

“We talked about it ten minutes ago,” said Tommy. Of course Tommy remembered. Tommy turned to his Dad. “Can I drive?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“I think maybe Sam should,” his mother said. He needs to get his license first. And he needs the practice.”

“I’m good,” Sam said. “Let Tommy drive.” Sam’s Mom looked like she was about to argue, but his Dad stepped in. “Here’re the keys Tom. Go over the speed limit, and you’re never driving the van again.”

Sam didn’t mind driving. He just wasn’t all fired up to grow into mind-numbing adulthood. And he sure as anything wasn’t going to drive in front of the fam.

Burger Royale was good. Mostly. Sam didn’t realize it was his turn to order until prodded by his sister (again). And then, he realized he had forgotten his wallet. Probably on the beach. He had to get Tommy to pay for him. And just when he was about to take a bit of the world’s juiciest looking burger, the topic came up.

Science.

Summer school science. It made his face hot just thinking about it. No one else in his class had to retake the subject. No one else in the world did. And of course, his brother, Mr. Perfect, was doing extra-curricular science. A summer science fair! Even now he heard him explaining something about Bunsen vials or turboprops or the periodic table of microprocessors.

“Very exclusive,” Tom was saying proudly. “If anyone were to lose their science fair badge, there’s no getting a new one in time.”

“Sam?” Not again. He looked back from the window.

“Science good, learning lots. Favorite subject,” he said absently. Mom looked earnest,

“Grades staying up there?”

“Yeah, more or less,” Sam said. And so the inquisition began. He realized, didn’t he, that this was important? That one of conditions of letting him come on the family vacation was that he would be able to stay on top of his work? Sam must have said the right things, because soon enough the topic changed and Sam was able to enjoy his food again. It should be illegal, he mused, to ambush your children during mealtime. Who was this woman?

Sam’s Dad looked over at Mom. “Cousin Glem’s about 30 minutes from the beach house.”

“But we’re supposed to stop by Tommy’s science fair project, and talk to the people there.        

“I’ll stay,” Sam volunteered. “Happy to wait for him and let him in.”

“But won’t you miss the tour of…”

“I’ll cope,” “And anyway, they don’t give the presentations till tomorrow. This is just talking with the teachers and preliminary stuff right? We’ll all be there tomorrow.”

Sam’s Mom and Dad looked at each other.

“Someone’s gotta stay and let him in,” Sam’s Dad said. “Might as well be Sam.” Sam mouthed a silent thank you to Dad.

Glem was Sam’s favorite cousin. He was six years older, and occupied that cool zone between normal adult, and fascinating older cousin. Sam was happy when the car pulled away, and left him alone in the beach house, waiting for Glem. It was a big house, and all alone, slouched on the couch, Sam let his mind wander.

“Anybody home?” Sam jumped up and ran to the door. Cousin Glem was wearing khaki shorts and a button down shirt. He had a full beard now, and a pair of shades pushed back on his head. His eyes seemed to sparkle from inside a very wide, friendly face. It wasn’t long before Glem and Sam were talking about everything. And when Glem said he wanted to go to the beach and build a huge sandcastle, Sam was delighted.

And so they built the fortress of Sandaxtron. One huge tower in the middle, two walls, and gatehouse. It melded into the a sheer sand cliff, just out of reach of where the tide should be able to reach. Inside the sand walls, Glem built tiny square shaped houses, while Sam built the home of the pious sand monks, who lived just beyond the walls of Sandaxtron.

“They were supposed to watch after the city,” Sam explained. “But their decadence overcame them, and they were banished from the city walls.”
            “I hear legend says that when the great cataclysm arrives,” Glem gestured toward the ocean “they’ll be the first to succumb.”

Glem was the best.

 Sam felt like he could almost hear the sound of clanking chains as Sandaxtron’s great drawbridge was lowered across the first moat. He watched bemusedly as an ant tried to run across  the bridge, falling through the cracks into the sandy trench below. The ants were attacking.

They didn’t finish Sandaxtron until the sun was setting. By then, both of them were hungry. Scientific studies proved that building castles makes you hungry,” Glem said, as they swung by a hot dog stand on the way back to the beach house. Sam figured he might as well ask Glem while he could.

“Glem, I have a question,”

“Shoot,” Glem said.

Now that it came to it, Sam didn’t know how to explain what he was feeling. He thought of a dozen different openings in his mind. But none of it sounded right. It all sounded… whiny.

“Never mind,” Sam said. Glem looked at him closely.

“You sure?” Sam nodded as they headed home. And then,

“I don’t feel like I fit in my family,” just blurted out of his mouth. Sam looked at Glem. He wasn’t grinning, Sam was grateful for that. Instead Glem was just silent for a minute. He took a bite of hot dog and stared out over the ocean.

“I don’t think anyone really fits in,” Glem said at last. Sam looked at him. “I’m serious. Think about it, everyone is so strange and different. How could we really fit?”

“But Tommy,” Sam began

“Is the scientist.” Glem nodded. “Do you know why?” Sam didn’t. “Tommy is a scientist because he’s always been scared that he doesn’t have your imagination. He wishes he could be like you,”

“And you know that because…”

“Because he told me,” Glem said. “A couple years ago, at Christmas time. Here’s the secret no one tells you. Everyone is scared about fitting in. We think the world has a giant secret and somehow we’re not in on it. Everyone is looking at us, laughing behind our backs. But no one cares how you look, they’re too busy worrying about how they look.”

“But,” Sam protested, “people laugh at other people all the time.”

“Sure,” Glem said. “But they’re insecure. We mock what we fear. Because there’s always this tiny voice telling us that we’re the inadequate ones.” Strange, Sam thought. He felt like someone was pouring warm water inside his stomach. Or wrapping a blanket around his shoulders on a cold day. Or, it felt like the ocean breeze.

“Well,” Sam said, licking ketchup off his fingers “you have clearly gotten very wise.”

Glem looked at him closely. “I’ve always been wise,” he said.

Sam laughed. And as they struggled over the loose sand toward the beach walk, Sam felt, for just a moment like all was right in the world. So too it seemed, did the waves, as they swished gently toward the shore, with slaps and smacks that sounded very much like talking.

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Photo by Robert Gourley on Unsplash