DETECTIVE MARC MCKINLEY

SOLO SESSION
Winter, for all its frosty irritations like chapped lips, scaly hands dry from the biting winds, and
icy car seats that necessitated a turn of the key and a retreat back to the confines of the house,
held some treats for those who were okay with venturing out into its clutches. One such reward
was the burnt orange skies that sat against vivid pastel blues, while the chill sent you racing for
a beanie to keep the breeze from whistling in your ears. It was cozy and uncomfortable, a
perfect duality.
Detective Marc McKinley stood on the storm-battered dune walkover and watched another one
of winter’s little gems, a chest-high, perfectly manicured wave, peel gently across the sandbar
in front of him. He looked up and down the beach and pulled the evening air deep into his
lungs. No one for a mile either way ... except for one intrepid soul sitting directly along the
waterline in front of him. Marc tucked his 7’0 twin fin under his arm and jogged down to the
shoreline. He affixed his leash to his right leg and pulled the neoprene hood over his head.
“Just me and you out here to enjoy it, huh?” Marc said to the young man, a college-aged kid
wearing a sweatsuit with the crack of his butt hanging out of the gray pants. He had dark curly
hair, and his face looked somber and hollow. His hands were clutched around his knees, and
he shivered in the cold.
“Sorry, are you okay?” Marc asked.
“Sure, thanks,” the young man choked back, his voice raspy like he had been crying.
Marc set his board on the sand and squatted, stretching his groin in a butterfly position. Then
he saw the gun, the handle of the pistol jutting out from under the kid’s leg.
“None of my business for sure, but are you mad at a pelican or something?”
The kid chuckled.
“Not exactly.”
“My name’s Marc, what’s yours?”
“Sebastian.”
“Nice to meet you, Sebastian. You from here or visiting?”
Sebastian glanced over at him and bit his lip.
“Drove over for the day from Garden Grove.”
“You planning on driving back home?” Marc asked.
“No.”
Marc nodded and sat on the sand, looking out at the ocean as a three-wave set deposited
itself on the sandbar, a perfectly tapered wall of whitewater moving uniformly down the beach
as the wind feathered at their backs. A plover scurried past, scouring the sand for dinner. Just
as quickly as he arrived, he flittered down the beach, the breeze forcing him to work harder
than he likely would have wanted to stay on course.

“Can I ask why?”
“No.”
“Can I ask if there’s anything I can say to change your mind?”
Sebastian paused and cut his eyes over to him.
“I’d rather be alone for this.”
“Well, you’re not,” Marc said, staring straight out at the water.
A tear rolled down the side of Sebastian’s cheek, and he tried to wipe it away before several
more joined the leader.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Marc turned his head to face the young man and shook his head.
“You’d be wrong, my friend. Because three years ago, I sat about a hundred yards to the south
of where we are sitting in a real similar situation.”
“You’re just saying that, to try to stop me.”
“Look at my face, Sebastian. I’m not just saying anything.”
Sebastian turned his head slowly and connected with Marc’s eyes. A flurry of sand whipped up
around them, hurtling the tiny crystals past their faces and forcing them both to look toward
the water again.
“Okay, so?”
“You want the bullshit answer or the real one?”
“Bullshit, please,” Sebastian said quickly.
“Bullshit it is—life’s worth living. No problem is too great. This too shall pass.”
Sebastian laughed this time, a thin sound swallowed by the breeze. He pulled his hood over his
head and rocked back and forth on the sand.
“Wow, all the cliches in one sentence. Okay, and the real one?” Sebastian asked.
Marc undid his leash and turned to face the only other soul besides himself who knew what he
was about to say.
“Because I knew that every second offered a new future. All I had to do was get to the next
one. In my heart, I knew that if I walked off this beach, I could start over, like it all never
happened.”
Sebastian cocked his head to the side and curled his lip back.

“My problems will still be there in that parking lot. Then in the car on the way back, and
everywhere in between.”
“Very true. But you will be a fundamentally different person when you get there. And you made
a new friend today, too. For whatever that’s worth to you.”
A tiny white sand crab skittered past their feet before being pulled back from its intended
course by the farthest fingers of the incoming tide. It dug its claws into the sand harder and
pushed forward with a renewed determination.
“That’s all there is to it, huh?” Sebastian said skeptically.
“No, but I think it’s the ultimate starting point.”
There was a long pause, and Sebastian’s hand moved toward the gun. Marc instinctively
braced and readied to charge at the weapon, but there was no need. Sebastian moved it from
under his leg and slid it across the blanket toward Marc, who reached out and took it, ejecting
the magazine and clearing the chamber. Sebastian stood up slowly and folded the blanket up,
taking one final look at the ocean.
“I’ll try again,” he said.
“I’m happy to hear that,” Marc replied.
“I’ll be different at the car?”
Marc smiled at him and stood up, his board at his side, to walk back with him.
“You’re different now.”
***