Light and Darkness
By Jeffrey James Higgins
Sunlight dances off the ocean. The beach warms my body, and the lapping waves massage my soul. I come here to reconnect with my innocence.
I walk to the edge of the Vineyard Sound and dab my toe into the water. One tentative step, then another, and I dive headfirst into the surf. The cold takes my breath away and tingles my skin. I roll onto my back and float on the brine.
Sunlight penetrates the turquoise water and reflects off the sandy bottom. A child’s joyous squeal erupts from the beach. A seagull caws. The familiar odor of fried food and sunscreen wafts across the gentle breeze.
I stare out to sea where sunlight disappears into the liquid sapphire, and my mind moves from light into darkness.
I see a man lying broken and dying in the rubble of the World Trade Center, his shoes gone, and his shirt soiled with soot and blood after his unimaginable fall. I feel the weight of my compatriot’s severed arm after a car bomb tore him to pieces in Kabul. The blood has drained, transforming his limb into a coat hanger draped with skin and ligament.
I blink away the memories.
Horror has no place on this gift of a day, but still, I smell the iron stench of a blood-drenched floor beneath a stabbing victim. I see the peaceful face of a homeless veteran crushed beneath the wheels of a tractor trailer under which he sought shelter from the rain. I hear the snap of bullets over my head. I feel the weight of my murdered teammate’s coffin.
I submerge into the cold and stroke hard for the beach. I climb out into the sun, and the sand squishes between my toes. An umbrella flaps in the wind. Two women in bikinis walk past, their skin bronze and taut. A girl builds a sandcastle. A toddler giggles with delight and presents a glittering seashell to his mother as if he found a golden treasure.
My mind returns to the light.