Issue Three

JUDITH DORE
Adam’s hand is snaking its way into my
swimsuit when he tells me I am naïve.
I think this is hilarious, but I neither
laugh nor stop his hand’s journey. All of
it feels good: the heat of the sun, his
hand tracing the underside of my breast,
the ridiculousness of his speech. My
eyes are half-closed and I can feel the
stretch of the muscles in my neck as I
lean to my right to give Adam more
leeway. I turn my face away from his
increasingly heaving breath. It smells of
cheap beer and I prefer the scent of the
sun-baked seaweed and brine of the
ocean. I can pretend he is someone
else.
“Naïve, how?” I say this with an
innocence I don’t feel. Adam chuckles,
the tone meant to make me feel small. I
want to pull away from him, but I don’t.
“Everything has a price,” he tells me. I
slither a glance his way. His eyes are
on my breasts, so he doesn’t see me
watching him. I wonder how hard I’d
have to kick him to knock him
overboard. I imagine him flailing in the
water, sputtering and indignant, and this
makes me grin.
“Of course it does, silly,” I say.
“What I mean is, to get what you want in
life, you have to sacrifice.” His hand
slides lower, dips into my bellybutton
then between my legs. He thinks he is
being seductive.
“Mmmm,” I say. He takes this as
encouragement and puts a finger inside
me.
My eyes turn to the beach, about a
hundred yards away from where the
catamaran is anchored. The ocean is
quiet at low tide. I’ve been vacationing
in the crook of Cape Cod for most of my
life. My family used to rent cottages
here when I was younger, before they
graduated to luxury condos, but I
stopped staying at my parents’ place the
summer I got my first job out of
college. I prefer the freedom granted by
my own resources.
I love this part of the beach, where the
tide goes out for a mile and leaves pools
to explore. I’ve never understood the
attraction of Provincetown, where
people go to play with artists and
wannabes. Too many people with too
much pretention. In fact, I can’t figure
out why my parents chose this part of
the Cape playground to hang – they
usually choose places and things that
reflect their superiority. Maybe they like
feeling like bigger fish.