Since No One Else Wanted to Take the Challenge, I took it myself

I gave out three scenario challenges on my last blog post, Creative Writing, The Navy Seal Way.  For those of you who didn’t read it, it’s at the end. No one wanted to take the challenge so, I took scenario number three myself.  I wrote it in twenty minutes, The Navy Seal Way.  It took me 30 seconds to create each basic challenge for my readers, so I had no idea what to write here to expand it.

Here was the challenge: You are walking on a deserted beach and an old man, walking with a cane, wearing a T-shirt that says, ‘been there, done that, so don’t mess with me’, wobbles toward you.

I was walking along the sandy seashore, enjoying the radiant sunshine on my thankful skin, and the sound of waves crashing and flooding gently, kissing my toes.  The truth is I only rarely come to the beach, but this early morning I found the solitude that it offered to be a perfect activity during the nascent sunrise.

Off in the distance, I saw what appeared to be an elderly man walking my way, about a hundred yards off, but he had a surprising liveliness in his step, despite the fact that he occasionally supported himself with a cane on the right side. I thought it was odd that he had a cane on the beach, particularly because canes tend to stick in the wet sand and what was equally interesting was that he had a full head of white hair, blowing in the wind—kind of Einstein esque.  In fact, his hair tended to blow left, right and even upwards, depending on the wind shifts. But my eyes went back to the cane and he did not use it every step, only occasionally, and sometimes he would flip it and twirl it for several 360s, then catch it easily and keep walking. His body displayed leanness, not saggy as you might expect at that age, and his muscles seemed modestly well-defined, despite his age, whatever it happened to be.  I assumed maybe that he was in his 80s.

He suddenly stopped, looked out over the ocean, then before my ears even detected the engine sound, he looked up and stared at a Beechcraft Bonanza, flying low, coming in parallel to the shoreline, about 2000 feet.  I stopped too, because it seemed too low, and the plane passed me, then when it was directly across from the old man, the Bonanza dipped his wings left, then right, as a salute or “hello” to the man, as pilots will do. The white-haired man stood upright and straight as a steel girder, dropped his cane to the sand, and saluted the plane as soon as it dipped its wings to him.  Then, he bent down, picked up his cane and resumed walking to me.

When we finally came up close to each other, I said to him, “Good morning, sir.  Beautiful day at the beach.”

His piercing blue eyes followed my glance at his T-shirt, smiled knowingly as his white hair blew in confident chaos and replied, “Yes, you’re right, but I think every day Is a nice day to walk, as long as a man has legs. It’s just that some days may be slightly better than others.”

I thought about his statement briefly and chewed on it for a while before I said anything more to him. I appreciated from his words that he understood the gift of life.

“My name is Carson.”

He said, “Ollie.”

He proceeded to walk away, and I couldn’t help myself and said, “I admire your T-shirt.”

The old man said, “There’s only a few of us left, my son.”

I pondered that statement too, and it made me stick my toes in the wet sand for stability, but I decided now was not the time to ask for more details.  But I did say, “It was amazing to see that Bonanza dip his wings to you, and then the salute.  Why did he—?”

“Respect, Carson. They know how to find me now, and when they see me, they show respect—the same respect I show them.  Carson, it’s nice to meet you, but I have a date with a cold beer at the bar on the road up there.  The beer must be respected too.”

I watched as he walked with his cane to the bar, and wondered if he really needed the cane to walk or perhaps, it was for another reason, but either way, I realized this Einstein must’ve been a bad-ass in his day, and I was suddenly thirsty for a beer.

© SRCarson 2022