I arrived first at the beach house. I stood there for a few moments, observing the environs. It sparked up some memories in my mind. To people coming here for the first time, the sight of the beach house may seem nothing more than just planks of wood put together. But for the four of us it meant a lot more than that to us. I could recall the times we spent summer here. Times when we were still much younger, wild and free.
It's been a whooping of fifteen years we've been here last. How time flies. But it still felt like yesterday the four of us were here last. It was like our own family home aside our individual families. Spending vacations over here whenever we had the chance was a tradition we never failed to keep. Though it sounds crazy, but it's as though I felt this welcoming atmosphere all over the place, like the house was happy to have me back.
Not too long after, I heard the sound of a car behind me which came to a stop not too far from where I had packed mine. The car door opened and the driver and passenger stepped out. It was David and Clara, holding hands together. I guess nothing had changed between these two after fifteen years after all. David gave me this familiar smile I still remember in our college days. Clara hugged me with excitement.
While we discussed and did some catching up, we saw a car come into sight with Mariah on the steering. Just like old times, she had always love to make the last entry. Her outward appearance didn't seem to have changed that much. She stepped out of the car and with one hand she banged the car door and waved with the hand at us with a big smile on her face.
"Wow, so it's been fifteen years," she said. "Feels like yesterday, doesn't it?"
We headed for the porch as we continued with our discussions. David brought out the spare key he had always brought along with him to the beach house. He unlocked the front door and opened it. Inside was quite dusty with a few cobwebs at some corners of the living room. The furniture still remained there intact, though it was looking old some sort of.
“Looks smaller,” Clara observed, as she sank into one of the cushions.
“It’s not smaller,” David said. “We’re just bigger.”
"Hmm... maybe you're right," Mariah responded.
That evening we ordered seafood for dinner, after which we settled into the living room with a few bottles of wine. A few minutes later after a series of thunder claps it began to rain heavily. We began to go down memory lane of the good old times, like the road trips, the ridiculous bets David always lost, and the time we’d tried to sneak into a private beach party and ended up chased by a security guard who had been more amused than angry.
But it was Mariah who turned the conversation. While the rest of us talked and laugh she just remained silent with her glass of wine in her right hand which she slowly sipped from from time to time.
“You ever wonder,” she began, “why we all stopped coming here?”
All of a sudden the room turned silent. None of us spoke immediately.
“Life happened,” David finally said, too quickly. “We grew up. Jobs, families, you know how it goes.”
Mariah shook her head. “No. That’s not it. We all know why. We just never said it out loud.”
She spoke of the truth we had carried separately, each of us trying not to not wanting to talk about like it never happened.
“You’re talking about that night,” I said quietly.
Clara and David were both looking uncomfortable.
Mariah leaned forward now as she spoke on a low tone, “We never talked about what happened. About how everything changed after.”
It was fifteen years ago on a faithful night. We came to that same beach house for a vacation as usual. We had a little too much to drink which led to arguments, unspoken feelings such as jealousy and certain behaviours we found in one another that was annoying. Then Clara stormed out, and David went after her. Mariah and I had stayed inside, arguing about something I can barely remember now, but it was quite serious.
Few seconds later I heard a crash, followed by the sound of tires screeching on wet pavement.
We didn't really get to see the man's face, all we managed to see was his headlights and the scream that followed. Clara had stumbled into the road, and luckily she was still alive. David tried pulling her back but the car had already grazed her and knocked her down which left some bruises on her body.
And just like that, the the driver sped away, with no trace up till now.
We never called the police. Clara begged us not to. She said it was her fault for storming off, for not watching where she was going. David agreed, said it was best if we left it that way. We all nodded, feeling relieved. In as much as we felt we were being loyal, it also felt like we were bound by something greater, and that was silence.
From that night on, things were never the same. We stopped coming to the beach house. We barely called each other. Or friendship just wasn't the same ever since that night.
We had tried to hide this truth, but here it was sitting in front of us even after fifteen years.
“I still think about it,” Mariah whispered. “About how close we came to losing her. About how we just pretended it never happened. I don't know about you guys but It kind of left a mark on me.”
“I asked you all not to talk about it,” she said softly. “Because if we had, I’d never stop feeling guilty. I didn’t want that memory to follow me forever," Clara spoke.
David reached for her hand. “We protected you,” he said. “That’s what we did. We kept the silence because we thought it was best.”
“And look where that silence got us,” Mariah said. “Fifteen years apart.”
I finally spoke. “Maybe silence kept us safe. But it also kept us strangers. We built our lives on what we didn’t say.”
No one replied at first.
Clara broke the silence. “Then let’s not leave it like that. Not this time.”
The words brought a relief. We didn’t solve everything that night. We didn’t suddenly erase the years of distance or the weight of what had been left unsaid. But for the first time in a long time, we sat together in the truth, though it was a bit uncomfortable and unfinished.
Few minutes later the rain gradually stopped and we stepped onto the porch. We stood quite as we watched the tides from the ocean drift back and forth.
For years, silence had been the wall between us. But now, perhaps, it could become the bridge.
And maybe that was the truth between us all along.
