Project Milestone 2: Creative Work from Interview

“It’s nice to spend time together like this.”

Her words rolled toward me, but I barely registered them. The sand in Barcelona was so warm, so soft. Growing up, we never got to see the ocean. How many times had Tess and I been to a beach together? I could probably count it on one hand.

“Jacquie, are you even listening to me?”

“Mhmm,” I said, the slight sound coming right back to my ears in the ocean wind.

“You’re not, are you?”

“Sorry,” I said, “just thinking.”

“About?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She wouldn’t understand. Tess wasn’t one for the introspective. 

After three days enjoying the beach warmth, the feeling of business was finally beginning to fade. Even on the plane over, a paranoia hung over me that I should be doing something. Household jobs, dropping Sarah off at soccer practice, taking a shift that I knew I couldn’t handle. God, when was the last time I’d watched a movie just because I wanted to?

“I should call mum, check up on Sarah.”

“Jacquie,” Tess said with lowered eyebrows, “you said that you wouldn’t. Not today.”

“I know, but-”

Tess just shook her head, and I let the thought go.

My little sister always got her way. But she didn’t know what it was like. Twenty-eight and studying her fifth uni course, likely to drop out halfway through the next semester again. Her entire life was relaxation.

“It’s getting hot,” said Tess, “should I put the umbrella up?”

“Go ahead.”

The umbrella spread over me, casting one small spot on the beach into shadow, while hundreds of others tanned in the sunlight around us. A few of our beach neighbours gave us quick glances. That happened occasionally. They probably had hundreds of Aussie tourists every day, but we always drew attention.

I caught sight of the nearby sculpture and took it in again, probably for the third time that day Homenatge a la Barceloneta, they call it. A rust brown tower that was almost Spain’s response to the Leaning Tower of Pisa. It stood eight metres tall on a slab of stone. Dozens of glass panes made up small windows which shone in the afternoon sunlight. In the late morning its shade had protected us from the sun, but its shadow had moved on like the hour hand on Sarah’s Powerpuff Girls wrist watch.

Maybe Tess was right, though. We’d travelled halfway across the world for this holiday, one we’d been looking forward to for several months. What was the point if I couldn’t actually sit back and enjoy it?

So I sunk my toes deep into the golden sands of Barcelona beach and closed my eyes. Senses overtook me, as I listened to the sound of waves rolling into the shore, children running around and laughing, the distant wailing of seagulls. I let my mind wander, trying to picture what was going on around me.

At some point I must have fallen asleep. I stirred awake and pulled off my sunglasses, trying to work out if it had been long. Tess was no longer beside me, and the sun was about halfway between the highest point of the sky and the horizon. A couple of hours had passed, at least.

Tess’s phone lay on her beach towel, screen down. I looked around to see if she was in sight, then picked it up and turned it on. Her lock screen was filled with notifications, mostly from all of the games she played. Candy Crush, several trivia games. Hell, she even had a Pokémon GO notification. Hadn’t that been cool like, three years ago?

I stood and decided to have a look around for her. It was unlike her to not take her phone wherever she was going. She must have been out in the water for a swim. Anywhere else and she would have had it.

But as I stood at the tidemark, warm waves breaking at my feet, I scanned the ocean for Tess, without any luck. There were many people in the water, so it was hard to know for sure. I didn’t really feel like swimming myself, so I walked back to our umbrella and sat down.

After another hour, I’d had enough of the beach. 

I called mum and spoke with Sarah. She had been drawing pictures all day, imagining what it was like for us here in Spain. My daughter said that she wished she could show them to me, and I promised to Skype her when we went back to the hotel.

Tess still hadn’t returned. I figured that, even if she had left only just before I had woken up, it was unlikely that she would be swimming for over an hour. She couldn’t live that long without her phone.

There were still a few hours before sunset, and few people had left the beach. I slipped Tess’s phone into the pocket of my board shorts and started to look around. I walked along the strip of sand for about a hundred metres one way, then walked back to the umbrella and walked the other way. No sight of her.

My heart fluttered a little and, to be honest, I appreciated the purpose. I felt ashamed to realise it, under the circumstances, but it was true.

I crested the sand dunes behind where we had set up and began to walk along them, now more than a little worried for Tess.

Finally, I found her.

She was half buried with sand in a small valley created by the dunes. Slumped and defeated, but clearly still breathing.

“What’s happened?” I asked as I ran toward her.

“Thank God, you’ve found me,” she said, voice hoarse. “I’m stuck. There’s a rock under here pinning me down.”

I began to dig around her, searching for the rock. “How?”

“A kid came over and asked if we could help find his ball. You were asleep and I didn’t want to bother you, so I went to help. I know you’re always so busy. But the kid and his friends pushed me down the hill and buried me. They left me to die!”

I finally managed to get the rock off her leg. She was being dramatic, but they had cut deeply into her skin with the rock.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” Tess said, “I’ve ruined our holiday. I’ll hardly be able to walk. I just wanted to be like you. You’re always helping people.”

I smiled and shook my head. “Don’t worry. That’s the most exciting thing that’s happened since we got here.”