The Language of Seabirds

Jeremy woke on his first beach house morning to sunlight in the window, birds calling overhead, and the smell of frying bacon coming from downstairs. He twisted to stretch his back after the unfamiliar mattress, staring up at the knots and whorls of the slanted pine board ceiling. So, this was day one on the coast. Day one of the unknown.

In fourteen more days, he’d be waking up like this and packing his bags. Loading up the car and heading back to Corvallis, back to the house. Where all his mom’s stuff would be gone.

That had been the final decision of the divorce: Jeremy’s dad would stay in the family home, close to his work at the college, and Jeremy would stay with him at least through the summer. His mom was moving to Beaverton to follow her dream job at Nike, the job she’d applied for and gotten in secret, the once-in-a-lifetime career opportunity that had led to her realizing a whole lot of things in her life needed changing. She’d already found a house in Beaverton, but with her work schedule, the move was going to take weeks. The news that one of Uncle Becker’s rentals was free after a cancellation had come in the nick of time, and the grown-ups had stopped bickering long enough to settle on the plan: The boys would go to the beach, and Jeremy’s mom would use their absence to move out in peace.

Jeremy had been slightly surprised by his own calmness about his mom moving away. It was strange, for sure, after living with her his whole life, but they still talked or texted most days, and he would be going out to visit once she got herself settled. She had already sent him details about the school he would attend in Beaverton if he decided to live with her, along with a list of local attractions a preteen like him might like. She was always thorough about things like that, even if she was distracted most of the time now by her all-consuming fresh start. He actually found himself admiring her bravery. He didn’t know if he would have it in him to just go for it, turn his whole life inside out, stand up tall and tell the world exactly what he wanted.

So, after the beach, he would be going back to the same place he’d always lived in, but different, and he’d live there with his dad, at least for a while. He had no clue yet what choice he would make at the end of summer, which house he would want to call home. He was grateful he had plenty of time to decide. Who knew how he might feel after his time here in the in-between? Even playing it safe, a lot could happen in two weeks. Would he be happy to go back to the same old room, the same old school, the same old classmates he’d never quite managed to turn into friends? Or would he want a fresh start?

A buzz from his phone pulled Jeremy back to the present. A text had gotten through! Uncle Becker had warned them reception was patchy right on the coast. It was better in town, apparently, only half a mile inland but enough to make a difference. Jeremy reached out to his bedside table.