Boardwalk Down Memory Lane

Waves lapped gently against the crumbling concrete walls of the dock, shaping a rhythm that Hurley tapped his claws to as he strolled along the water’s edge. Weather and ocean had worked together with time to clear away the human debris that had once crowded the seaside streets, turning the boardwalk into this utahraptor’s favorite path for an afternoon walk. He angled his head to squint out over the rolling waves, the glare of sunlight on water still bright despite the late time of day, and sucked in a breath of fresh, salty air, letting it rush through his body and invigorate the senses.

There was little Hurley loved more than the beaches and the seaside towns that dotted the flanks of these islands. He navigated his way down the seawall, toes clinging to the very edge where a single slip would result in a cool plunge, and twisted his head around the other way to let his eyes scan the crowded buildings that wound along the walkway. Colorfully painted storefronts- now faded from salt and sun- peered back at him out of broken windows, their dark hollows seeming to beckon him to come closer and take a look. He didn’t know how to decipher the strange markings carved on signs above the doors, though he was sure it was some form of ancient human language. Nevertheless, over time and countless trips down beachy boardwalks, he had come to learn what most of these buildings contained, and he was always happy to oblige their open, welcoming doors. There were few doors to stop him in the first place, but that was neither here nor there.

It had been some time since Hurley had claimed a new treasure for himself, and he thought he deserved a little treat for himself as a reward for all of the beach-napping he’d been doing lately. With a snort of amusement at his own inner joke and a swish of pale feathers, Hurley changed course, bouncing lightly on his feet as he aimed for one of the more interesting-looking buildings. The facade had once been a bright teal, now faded to a softer blue, and boasted overlapping waves in chipping white paint along its lower half to give the appearance of one plunging into the surf as they entered. Hurley had to duck his head to enter, slipping through the double doors that hung askew and sagging on their hinges, and straightened up to find himself in a beach-lovers paradise.

Well, that’s probably what it used to be, at least. These days it was looking more and more dilapidated when he visited, with what remained of the merchandise scattered across the floor or pushed up against walls and counters. Countless creatures had taken residence here over the years, from rats and seabirds to even a family of anteosaurus. Hurley sniffed at the air and wrinkled his nose. Definitely anteosaurus, and though the scent had grown stale from weeks away, the place still smelled a bit like mud and carrion. No respect for this place, but then again, most creatures didn’t value these towns the way Hurley did.

He’d been wandering beaches and boardwalks ever since he was a young chick. Some of his most cherished memories of his childhood were days spent in stores like this one, and a hazy feeling of nostalgia still rose up in him at it: the laughter of his friends as they darted away from the surging surf; leaping from the seawall into the waves as they crashed against the docks after a coastal storm; treasure hunting in the buildings smelling of salt and sand as they selected interesting articles to wear.

With a shake of his feathers, Hurley tucked those memories away again. Time had passed since then. He was no longer a young fool, and the friends he’d had then had all eventually wandered off to begin their own lives elsewhere. As for Hurley- he couldn’t bear to stray from the beaches he loved, wherever they may be. He always found himself back by the sea, where he could hear the rush of water over sand and listen to the gulls cry from high above.

Treasure hunting was something he’d never grown out of. Even now, he delighted in it as he began to pick his way through the building, careful to avoid stepping on anything that looked too fragile. He paused each time he encountered something he hadn’t seen before. Hanging strands of shells and beads caught his eye, and he spent some time flicking at them gently with their claws to listen to them shudder and rattle before moving on. He tried on multiple hats- much too small for his head, of course, but still rather fun to plop on there- and eventually talked himself out of claiming yet another woven sun hat.

He had made his way through most of the store and was wrapping back around towards the doorway again when something caught his eye. His steps stalled, and there he stood in front of it: a column on a pedestal, layered in rows of prongs from which dangled bits of plastic and glass. Sunglasses, to be specific.

He loved sunglasses. While it was a treasure to find anything of glass that was intact and unmarred, he was especially excited to find sunglasses. Several pairs still clung to the column, which he found could be freely rotated back and forth with some gentle pushing with his claws, and most of the pairs here were in surprisingly good shape.

As the sun sank lower and began to paint the sky in pink and gold, Hurley perched in front of the cloudy mirror that hung on the wall beside the column and began to try on sunglasses. Like with the hats, they were far too small to fit his face properly, but he admired each one anyway, turning his head this way and that so as to see if from all angles. If he placed them just so on his snout and went a bit cross-eyed, he could even look through their tinted lenses, casting the quiet store around him in shades of blue and sepia.

He narrowed down his selection and then tried everything on again, switching indecisively between a few pairs before finally settling on a pair. They were sleek and black, fading to blue towards the tips and with blue lenses that were darker at the top, filtering the light a little bit more without muddying one’s vision. Hurley slid them around on his snout and straightened them several times until they sat just so. He gazed at himself for a long moment in the mirror, fluffing his feathers up at the swell of joy in his chest that a new treasure always brought.

His gaze slid sideways to where a poster hung high on the wall above empty shelves, a bit ripped but still showing a clear image. He gazed wistfully at the two humans posed there, forever frozen in their laughter as they sat on the edge of a shiny white boat and dangled their legs into the vividly blue-green sea below. Straw hats were angled on their heads, shielding them from sunlight and making the sunglasses that they wore seem rather pointless, in his opinion, but he couldn’t deny that hats and glasses were always a winning combination regardless.

If only he could have enjoyed such things when they were fresh and new and shiny. He was still happy to find the items he did these days, but that didn’t stop him from longing for times long ago and which he had never lived. It was a strange sort of nostalgia, not unlike that which he felt before when recalling his younger days, but it was a nostalgia for experiences he could only live through these glimpses into the past.

Ah, well. No use dwelling on such things. If he couldn’t live those days in the past, then he would continue to make the future in their image. Straightening up onto his feet again, Hurley gave the wooden floor a few final taps with his claws in an echo of the wave-sound tune he so often played, then he slipped out of the way he had come, now adorned with his new pair of sunglasses. They might not be new to this world, but they were new to him, and he was going to wash them in the sea until they shined even brighter than the ones in that poster. Then he was going to lay out on the beach to bask in the last rays of sun before letting the waves lull him to sleep once more.