Sunday, May 20, 2018

a day at the beach


by fred flynn




alex, dylan, lee, preston, chandler, harper, taylor, kennedy, jody, and gray were dropped off at the beach , with strict instructions as to their regimen for the morning.

they were to run two miles along the beach, rest, swim a half mile out and back, rest, do the series of aerobic exercises they had been taught to do, and then wait for coach morgan to bring them their packaged lunches, which they would eat on the beach before beginning the afternoon program.

they had plenty of water if they needed it.


the beach was lined with hot dog and ice cream stands but coach morgan had not thought it worth mentioning to the students that they should be avoided.

chandler and harper were running the first of the four laps of their two miles when they passed one of the hot dog stands.

a muscular plebe behind the counter of the hot dog stand shouted to them as they passed,

best dogs on the pacific coast! only two dollars! special sauce included!

chandler threw an amused glance at harper but neither broke stride or responded to the young man’s call.


when they had run half a mile, they stopped, turned around and ran back the way they had come and passed the hot dog stand again.

and the muscular young man was still behind the counter, but with a slight scowl on his face.

these are good dogs, he yelled. healthy as all fuck! give them a try, they won’t kill you!

again, chandler and harper did not break stride, but chandler turned as they passed and gave the troll what he, chandler , thought was a friendly smile, indicating that while he had no intention of buying a hot dog, he was taking the fellow’s shouts in a spirit of good fun.


chandler and harper each took a few swigs of water when they returned to their original starting spot. alex and dylan were also at the spot but chandler and harper did not think to mention the hot dog vendor and his truculent behavior to them.

chandler and harper set off on the third of their four laps.

this time when they passed the hot dog stand their tormentor was standing in front of it.

chandler and harper deliberately avoided looking at him as he shouted.

what are you, too good to eat a fucking hot dog! with special sauce! contribute to the economy, why don’t you, you one percent pieces of shit!


there was an ice cream stand just past the hot dog stand, and this time the young woman behind it also yelled something at chandler and harper, but they could not make out what they said.

one more time, harper laughed as they started back on their last lap. i wonder if he will pull a gun on us this time.

but chandler did not laugh or smile at her words.

they approached the hot dog stand for the fourth time. the muscular young man was still standing in front of it, leaning back against it - at least, chandler thought, he is not standing directly in our path - and he had been joined by the young woman from the ice cream stand.


i think it’s sad, the troll shouted, just sad. you don’t know what you are missing, college boy!

the young woman from the ice cream stand laughed, but before the troll could continue, chandler stopped.

look here, fellow, he addressed the young man, this has gone far enough. so far as i know this is a public beach, and i don’t know of any law that requires me or anyone else to patronize any particular establishment, no matter how special their sauce or how special any other attribute they may possess…


as he spoke, chandler became aware that a small crowd of snickering plebeians was gathering around himself and harper.

the hot dog vendor smiled. i guess you ought to know about those things, college boy, going to college and all.

actually, my friend, you give me too much credit, chandler replied. at the moment i am only in prep school.

only in prep school! the young woman from the ice cream stand repeated, and she and the troll and the gathering crowd all laughed as if this was the funniest thing they had ever heard.


come on, kid, lighten up, the troll laughed. what did you think we were going to do to you? we’re at the fucking beach, not in the jungle of outer mongolia or someplace. he threw his muscular but short arms to the sky. turn that frown upside down! it’s a beautiful day!

and we’re in america, harper added.

that’s right, babe, we’re in fucking america! ha, ha, ha!

chandler always felt that he had acquitted himself well, and had learned some valuable life lessons from this encounter.


fifty years later, chandler found himself holding the title of secretary for intergalactic relations for planet earth, and as such was the head of the diplomatic team confronting the advance party of the petrocerian empire, whose outrageous demands regarding interstellar trade routes had aroused angry mobs and emboldened demagogues in cities across the solar system…

but whose military capacities could only be guessed at…

as he walked down the corridor of the petrocerian ship, chandler hoped that the firmness he had shown on that long ago day at the beach would stand him in good stead,…



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