and there it was . . . the Pacific Ocean. Just the sight
of the waves and the vast silvery blue water pulled at
my heart. I thought about Cary and May and walking
on the beach with Kenneth's dog Ulysses at my heels.
I remembered the wind in my hair, the smell of the
salt air, the sound of the terns above me, the
wonderful feeling of being alive and part of nature. Spike was right. We started out in a city and
moments later, here we were, parking on a bluff
overlooking a long stretch of beach.
"Let's walk over to the fence and look down
over the Pacific Coast Highway." He got out and
opened my door. I took a deep breath, felt myself
relax, and then stepped out. "C'mon, follow me," he
urged.
We walked over the grassy area where there
were benches and where some older people were
sitting around their portable folding tables and playing
cards.
"This is Santa Monica," Spike explained. "It's a
great little beach community, full of European tourists
as well as locals. There's the Santa Monica Pier," he
said pointing down the beach. "See the Ferris wheel.
There's a merry-go-round there, too. It's fun! People
are just coming off the beach," he added, nodding
toward the shoreline below us. Cars rushed by on the
Pacific Coast Highway and in the distance, the sun
hovered between two clouds and just over the horizon.
"That's Malibu," Spike said, continuing his
explanation. "Pretty, isn't it? Sometimes, when I don't
get anywhere in an audition, I stop by and just gaze