The Shore by Katie Runde

Author:Katie Runde
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 2022-05-24T00:00:00+00:00

Liz

Liz loved the way the hand-painted boardwalk signs endured year after year, and how the sudden shift from a land breeze to a startling salt-cool chill gave her goose bumps. A half-mile stretch of boardwalk had burned down a few years ago, another disaster after the hurricane, when a frayed wire sparked an explosion. The fire had left heaps of melted rides and blackened pilings. The tarred smell lingered until it was all bulldozed away, leaving a temporary swath of naked, splinter-littered beach. The imitation-wood boards on the rebuilt stretch were smooth and even now. This section of sturdier, fireproofed kiosks had a too-new uprightness, a temporary aura that felt disconnected from the rest of the boardwalk.

An old Sublime album played at the Buccaneer and those foamy beers flowed. The bar had survived the fire, then stood alone, an odd island atop the wreckage, for the year it took to rebuild the burnt-out boards around it. Robbie had left the one blackened section of siding where the flames had threatened it like come at me, bro. The Buccaneer went about its business in the tourist season and the off-season, indifferent to the changes in crowds. Robbie was behind the bar, and gave Liz a little wave. When he came by to visit Brian now, she heard him in there telling stories about their bartending-together days and going through his Sysco order.

After the Buccaneer, she crossed from Seaside Heights into Seaside Park. A double yellow line separated the towns. On the Park side: cruiser bikes, tidy green and white gazebos, a quiet boardwalk with only dunes on either side. Her mom would say weathered charm, uninterrupted sunsets in her ads. On the Heights side: tricked-out cars straight out of Grand Theft Auto, dance clubs shooting spotlights skyward, airbrushed tank tops. Her mom called it where all the action is. Between the double yellow lines on Porter Avenue: a few inches of in-between that wasn’t one place or the other.

Liz always texted Sonia when she was halfway home. This time of day Sonia was always bored out of her mind, waiting to go to Florida early-bird dinner with her grandma, so she responded even faster than usual:

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