***

Running on the beach feels good. How long has it been? Ten years? As I run, the low morning sun on my face transports me back in time and I know I’m home. I hadn’t realized just how much I miss Rehoboth.

A high school buddy is getting married next weekend, so the boys and I (full disclosure, we were never just the boys; Jane has always been one of us) decided on a bachelor party. It won’t be the stripper thing; Jane won’t have any of that. And with the lingering summer weather, I’m sure we’ll end up in the dunes, drinking, for old times’ sake.

My mind wanders as I run; I can’t wait to see my friends again. Suddenly, I notice a small section of sand jiggle. I slow; the sand really is moving. It takes me a moment to comprehend but I finally see what it is. There, digging in the sand about halfway between the water’s edge and the boardwalk is an odd little person dressed completely in sand-colored clothes, including a large-brimmed hat.

I wonder if the morning light is playing tricks, but as I get closer, he glances back at me with surprise. As I slow even more, he moves away at lightning speed. Hunched over and sprinting, carrying a small sand-colored satchel in his hand, he makes his escape.

He’s obviously fine, maybe embarrassed, so I pick up my pace. I look back once, but he’s gone, just like that.

I face forward and inhale deeply; the ocean air rejuvenates me. When I reach Poodle Beach, I turn up the beach and take to the boardwalk for my return run. I’m feeling strong and look up. I see the little man again. He’s two blocks ahead and racing across the boardwalk. If I hadn’t seen his face, I would have guessed him a preteen. But he doesn’t have the uncertain stride of a child, he moves like he’s got someplace to be. I watch, and notice he’s carrying a small plastic child’s rake as well as the bag as he heads toward the restroom. He pauses at the entrance to the men’s room, looks around as if making sure no one sees him, and then hurries in.  . . . . . .