Nutcrackers

by Charissa Pereira

“Nut crackers! Get ya nut crackers”

My sandy head pops up from my towel like a little gopher at the first signs of spring. 

My beach crew stares at me-I don’t often make such dramatic movement

(at the beach, or in life for that matter),

I’m a woman of leisure. The beach is for sabbath.

Some adorable people bring frisbees, some really intense ones bring balls, 

Some maniacs bring board games. 

Me? I bring naps. 

But when the special mixing grandmas start coming around with their forbidden magic drink coolers and carts…

I awaken from my slumber.

Is there anything better than feeling just a teeny tad twinkle of a little bit tipsy…at the beach?

I wave my hand wildly at the special juice lady. I want her. I need her. 

My squinting eyes rove across the sand as I catch her serving two thirsty parents.

I’m thinking they’re trying to soften the blow of their screaming child with some sips of homemade rum laced with some ‘I don’t know what’s in this but my heart feels held’, 

secret beach sauce. 

I nod my head in silent agreement. 

She places two of the strawberry coladas in their hands and I swear I see them both do the sign of the cross as they blow a kiss up towards heaven. 

My hand’s still up in the hot, salty air- like a little sunburnt student of the summer.

Craving recess. Wanting to leave behind the rules in the building.

I catch her eyes and give her that 

‘where have you been all my life, tell me you have venmo?’ gaze 

she smiles, zips up her bag and makes her way toward me and my little weekend crew. 

“Cuál quieres?” She drops her bag in front of my towel and unzips the options. 

I’m floored by the fact that she thinks I know Spanish, 

what an honor to be spoken to as a friend. 

I search my hot brain frantically for a few words I learned in Spanish in the 5th grade. 

“¿Cuáles son mis opciones?” I ask back with a shimmy,

Why did I just shimmy at her?  

I guess sometimes shimmys just happen.

At this point the beach crew is silent and watching this foreign exchange with ample amusement. 

Kind of like a movie viewing, some of the boys are snacking on popcorn and a few of the gals are sipping on seltzer, 

reclined and ready for scene two of this international fine arts beach drama.

I always wanted to be in cinema.

She points and goes ‘Mango, Strawberry, Coconut’. I let out a sigh of relief at the English and make a heart shape with both my hands to express my love

 and point to the coconut one. 

Everyone notes the language transition from Spanish to ASL.

“Do you even know what’s IN that?” my friend to the left asks.

I turn to her and look her straight in the eyes. 

“ I do. Happiness.” The crew bursts out laughing.

I find her venmo and I tip her too. 

Twist

Sip

Slurp

Lips smack

Lick

Sip 

Slurp.

Twist.

Shut.

Sand.

Sigh.

Ahhh.

My brain starts to bathe in the perfectly sweet rum laced with coconut. It’s chilled and rich.

It coats my mind as I scrunch my toes into the grainy sand and silently wonder if I forgot suntan lotion on the tips of my ears.

Ten minutes later the bottle is empty (don’t judge)

but my head is full.

I’m swimming but the ocean is 20 feet away. 

There’s a haze now and I like it.

Things are soft and my tongue tastes sweet.

And when I bite it, it doesn’t hurt.

My thoughts start racing since my ability to focus and filter…has gone to sleep. 

It’s snoring on the towel behind me.

My emotions and instinct start to sing and scream since they’re no longer bound by my will and discernment.

I’m half asleep, half-awake in the 3pm sun.

And I’m right where I wanted, 

the buzz and the hum of our conversations dancing on my skin 

the words starting to bend and distort, starting to mean things they don’t,  

as they twirl my hair and confuse me

He moves his hand and maybe grazes mine, and maybe lets it linger?

And I laugh because in an hour she’ll wake up (the part of me that’s asleep on the towel, that is) and she’ll remind me of what’s real again.

She’ll bring me back to the classroom and sit me at my desk and fold my hands across my lap. 

But for now I’ll live in this rum spun recess of a world

And I’m ok if she stays asleep a little longer.