Beach Front

George’s Fish and Chip Shop My feet were sandy so I brushed them off. My hair was damp from the ocean; I could feel the salty water on my lips. My face was red from being in the sun all day, my clothes were summery but as the wind blew, it grew cold. Goosebumps appeared. Light began disappearing so the tourist’s retreated into their homes. The air grew loud with the sound of the ocean and the sound of locals appearing. The fish and chip shop put the specials board out the front and the light out the front buzzed as George the owner never got time to fix it. You could see the locals; their skin brown, thongs on their feet, singlet tops and boardies on, this was everyday wear. The tourists wore the same but theirs was crisp and clean from only one or two summers here, the glanced around eyes darting back and forwards, they tried to act casual but it always came off as thought it had been planned before hand. Was I a local now or still a tourist? I had picked up the language of here, relaxed and let it all go, yet I itched to discover this place like the tourists. The tourists began heading towards the fish and chip shop, they wore long sleeves or pants, they felt the cold like me, I chose to ignore it but I still shivered. For the next three hours, George would be run off his feet with customers, if I know the name of the local shop owner am I a local? Its not like Seaben was a large town but it was big enough to hide if you wanted to or to not know some people. I had been here five weeks, but I was staying. My father, my brother and I had moved here from the city, well not the city but the suburbs. It was strange, the locals watched the tourists and the tourists watched the locals, I watched both yet I knew I was not hidden from their staring eyes. Maybe I was just a random, stuck in between local and tourist, I hadn’t made any friends except George and the lady who owned the local bakery. My brother had many friends and spent more time on the beach than at home. I tried to be there for dad but he had given me the day off, so I’d gone to the beach. I felt at home in the deep water, the salt in my hair, on my lips and in my bathes, I didn’t surf, or sun bake just floated and watched. Lying there made me invisible but I wasn’t, like a fly stuck on the wall I listened to people and formed my favourite locals. I had been following a girl and a boy to the beach, I’d first seen them in the shops and I was entranced, they were so relaxed with one another, at ease. They were friends as I had seen the girl with another boy; they all surfed or hung out at George’s. That’s where I was tonight, inside his little Fish and Chip shop getting tea for my dad and brother, I had mainly come in here to watch these people. I felt like they were my friends yet I had never spoken to them, they knew I had watched them as I’d seen their eyes trailing on my back. I sat on the sticky plastic chair in the corner, paintings of sharks and fish outlines the walls, on top of the counter was the most amazing sculpture I had ever seen, this sculpture was the reason I had first spoken to George. It was a mermaid, her long flowing curls were dark brown, her eyes a piecing green and the tail a soft purple. It was a contrast to this otherwise classical fish and chip shop. I listened as George called the number of my locals, only one stood up the rest, three girls and two guys stayed in their plastic white chairs surrounding a plastic white table. The tallest one collected the bags, “Thanks George” I heard him say, this boy’s voice was soft and it made the hair on my back stick up, “That’s ok Jimmy.” I had a name, I smiled and Jimmy’s eyes met mine, they were a dark green entrancing and for a moment I lost all thought, he smiled at me and joined his friends. Then my number was called and I walked up to the counter to collect my steaming white paper bags, my hands slightly shaking. George caught my eye and winked, “Thanks George.” “No problem Kate.” I collected my parcels and walked out the door, Jimmy’s eyes drilling into my back. I sat in my lounge room at home thinking about the eyes, it was strange we had been here for so long yet my father had not began unpacking, our couch was surrounded, by box after box off out old possessions. The TV blinked on and off as the ariel needed fixing. Jake my brother ate his diner as fast as the tide came in that afternoon, he was out the door muttering about friends and being back at 9 before I had sat down to eat. My father’s eyes showed pain as they were glued to the TV, impulsively I turned it off. “Lets talk Dad.” He shot me a look; he held it then nodded, his mouth full of fresh, local fish. “Are we locals dad? I mean I don’t go to school, holidays finished last week, I don’t have any friends and I am still living out of my suitcase.”