Mother and son…. “Donny! Grab the sunscreen from the glove compartment, would you?” hailed Vicky from across the beachside carpark as she jogged in pain across the hot and sticky tarmac, desperate to reach the soothing patch of grass a few bounds ahead.
“You got my towel mom?!” yelled Donny in response, squeezing the glove compartment button, dropping open its door with a violent thud. The bottle of sunscreen tucked away amongst the neglected miscellanea contained within the compartment felt disturbingly warm and soft to the touch, as though it had just been microwaved; such was the searing heat of the day.
“Got it Don!” answered Vicky, making her final stride across the empty carpark. Breathing a sigh of relief, Vicky wiggled her toes through the cool, sand-mingled grass below, exhaling deeply as the hot sting of her soles quickly abated.
Donny secured the car and began his own dash across the blistering gravel toward his mother, passing by an elderly couple who seemed mildly amused at the sight of the young man wincing and gasping as he skipped along the sun-heated surface. To the couple, he must have looked as though he were traversing hot coals at some kind of self-development seminar.
Aside from the elderly couple there was not another soul in sight. The weather was prime for a trip to the beach, but the locals favored another beach nearby. This one was secluded and frequented by few.
“Oh come on. You’ve gotta be kidding me!” cried Vicky as she shifted her knee and placed her hands on her hips contemptuously.
“What is it mom?” replied Donny curiously from an obscured vantage point behind a bush leading to the entry of the amenities block.
“The women’s changeroom is locked. Why would they lock it on the weekend?” complained Vicky, now raising her arms to further express her indignation toward some unknown oppressor, responsible for the current inconvenience.
“I dunno mom, maybe there’s a problem inside? Hardly anyone comes here anyway. Just use the men’s room. I’ll scout it out to make sure there’s no creeps in there!” replied Donny playfully before tossing the gooey bottle of sunscreen to his mother.
“Alright…just let me know if it’s clear in there,” replied a concerned Vicky.
Donny had a quick peep inside and found the changeroom apparently vacant. “Coast is clear mom!” his voice reverberating loudly against the walls of the dingy changeroom. The floors and walls were grimey and the air was far from pleasant.
“I’m coming in Don, okay?” Vicky peeked her head around the entry tentatively before making her way in. She scanned the room, half expecting an old lecher to pop out of one of the stalls with his wrinkly privates dangling all about.
“It’s fine mom. No one’s here. Just come and get changed,” said Donny reassuringly as he nudged his shoulder against the nearest changeroom stall. The door didn’t give. He gave it a firmer shove, but to no avail.
“Damn thing is stuck,” said Donny as he reached for the door of the remaining stall to the right.
“Chuck me the backpack. I’ll change first,” requested Donny as he took a step into the open stall. Vicky slipped her arms out of the backpack and prepared to toss it to her son, but she came to a halt when her ear caught the echo of voices coming from the entry.