The battered, red, volkswagon beetle pulled over at the roadside.
The driver, tall, blond and in his mid twenties alighted and locked the car door, pocketing the keys before walking slowly, trudging down the path which led to the beach.
Behind the clouds the sun would soon be descending into the sea.
Pushing his hands deep into his pockets and hunching his shoulders against the early, evening chill, he made his way to the rocks which lay strewn across the sand near the water's edge, as though scattered by a giant hand.
He knew the indentation in the boulder nearest the ocean was a perfect, if cold, fit, having sat there several times in the past when he needed some solitude.
It was his favorite getaway destination and a huge part of his childhood, teenage years and even up to the present.
Every weekend his grandfather would bring him to the very spot where he now sat.
They would bring their fishing poles and cast their lines into the water from the rocky shoreline and fish for hours.
Somedays they would catch their limit and somedays they wouldn't catch a thing but that never bothered the blond for he was perfectly content with just being their with the old man he grew to love so much.
Many a time the pair would head out before dawn, pack a picnic lunch and just sit along the shore and talk while keeping an eye on their bobbers attached to their lines that stretched out into the waters in front of them.
In fact, there were plenty of times where the blond or the older man had fish biting at their lines but they were so engrossed in their private conversations that they never noticed all the ones that got away.
During their times together, the blond's grandfather would always entertain him with stories of his own life at sea when he served in the Navy.
His personal favorite is the story he told about the time he sailed abroad during his youth and how he claimed to have met up and befriended the great, american artist Ernest Hemingway. The blond chuckled just thinking about all the wonderful stories and how he use to call his grandfather the original old man of the sea.
The blond watched as the waves swirled and crashed against the rocks, seeming to mimic exactly how he was feeling inside his being.
The tears quickly pooled in his eyes as his thoughts began to drift back in time and to the reason that brought him to the very spot where he now sat.
...
After working a long, boring overnight shift as the head pharmacist at the twenty four hours, local pharmacy in town, a job he had held going on two years, the blond headed home to his small apartment above the music store.
He truly despised the job he held at the pharmacy, for working there full time took up all his available time for a real life, a life he had dreams of sharing with his steady girlfriend Vanessa.
She was a beautiful, young woman, in her early twenties and came from a very wealthy and influential family whose father, coincidentally, owned the very same pharmacy where the blond held his position.
He expressed on more than one occasion his desire to follow a different career path, much to Vanessa's, her father's and even his own father's dismay.
The blond had hopes and aspiration of someday entering law enforcement but everytime he tried to talk about those aspirations with his father he would balk at the idea and if he even tried to breech the subject with Vanessa she would stomp her feet, throw things and cry about not having the money they, or more like she needed to live comfortably.
The blond did eventually work up the nerve to tell Vanessa that he had applied to several police academies, one in Duluth, one in Sioux Falls, South Dakota and even one as far off as Los Angeles, California.
When he told her about the applications he submitted she refused to see him for nearly two weeks.
She wouldn't return his calls and whenever he stopped by her apartment she was never home or if she was she refused to open the door.
Eventually, she gave in and they managed to put their differences aside.
She still hated the idea of him being a cop but she excepted the idea, somewhat.
The only one who truly understood his career choice was his grandfather.
That old man stood by him proudly every step of the way, he even help him fill out his applications to the academies.
Once inside his aparment Ken tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and his jacket on a nearby chair.
He then searched his refrigerator to satisfy his hunger cravings.
Not finding anything suitable to eat, he grabbed a beer, popped open the top and headed for the sofa in the living room.
He had picked up yesterday's mail from the post office box and was sorting through all the junk mail and bills when a certain letter caught his eye.
He about jumbed out of his seat when he read the return address, Los Angeles County, Academy of Law Enforcement.
The blond quickly tore open the letter and unfolded the paper inside.
His eyes scanned across the wording until it came to the section he had hoped would be there, OUR OFFICE HAS ACCEPTED YOUR APPLICATION.
He must have read it three or four times before it actually sunk in.
He couldn't believe it, he'd been accepted into the academy, his prayers had been answered!
He looked at his watch, it was four o'clock in the morning, Vanessa was still asleep so he knew he couldn't tell her about the exciting news until later.
Then a smile lit up his face as he thought about the old man.
"Granddad!" he exclaimed.
He hurriedly grabbed his car keys and the jacket he had thrown across the chair and pocketed the letter of acceptance in his jeans before racing out the front door.
The blond could hardly contain his excitement as he drove out to his grandfather's farm.
He knew the old man would be up by now, he was always up way before the crack of dawn, even more so since his grandmother passed away two years ago.
His grandfather claimed he could barely sleep for too long anymore in the bed that he shared with the woman he'd been wed to for nearly sixty five years.
The blond was right, when he pulled into the drive he noticed the light inside his grandfather's home was on in the kitchen as well as in the living room.
He put the car in park and jumped out.
"Wait till he get's a load of this!" the blond said out loud as he pulled the letter from his back pocket and sprinted up the steps leading to the side porch of the mountain stone home.
"Granddad!" the blond shouted as soon as he opened the door and entered the inside into the kitchen.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air but the room was empty.
Just then the anxious blond heard the television in the next room and he chuckled to himself.
"Granddad!" the blond shouted out again as he hurried into the living room clutching the envelop in his hand.
He smiled when he saw the elderly man sitting in his favorite chair with the morning news playing on the television set.
"Granddad, I've got the best news!" the excited blond said eagerly. "Do you mind if I turn the sound down on the set?"
He walked over and turned the volume down on the television and with a smile so wide he turn towards his grandfather who appeared to be asleep in his chair.
The blond snickered slightly as he shook the old man's shoulder then sat down on the coffee table in front of the chair and took out the letter from it's envelope.
"Granddad, you're not going to believe this...look what came in the mail!" the blond informed his beloved family member.
"Granddad?" he said again when his grandfather didn't respond.
The blond moved closer and shook his grandfather's arm again and he watched in shock as the elderly man's chin bobbed then dropped against his chest.
The blond's excitement quickly waned to the realization of what was unfolding in front of him.
"Grandfather?" the word came out almost in a whisper as he nervously reached over and felt for a pulse on the old man's already cold neck.
Not finding one the blond quickly shot up and raced to the phone to dial 911.
When the voice on the other line answered the blond replied, "I-I need an ambulance at 457 Fairview Road, the William Hutchinson residence, it's my grandfather, I-I think he's...gone."
...
The sound of the waves splashing against the rocks brought the blond back to the present and back to the heaviness he was feeling in his heart.
He looked down at himself and brushed the sand from the dark dress pants he was still wearing from the funeral services earlier that afternoon.
The blond was so deep in thought that he never heard the footsteps that came up behind him.
"I thought I might find you here," the man's voice said as he sat down on a rock beside the younger blond.
"Hey, Dad," the blond replied somberly as he turned to look at his father.
"It was a nice service wasn't it?" his fathered asked.
"Yeah," was the blond's one word reply as he focused his attention back on the rolling waves.
The two men sat in silence for several minutes before the elder Hutchinson spoke again.
"So, when do you leave for L.A.?" he questioned his son.
The blond looked at his father with a surprised look on his face then asked, "You know about that, h-how?"
The young man's father pulled the envelope out of his pocket and held it out.
The blond paused before taking the rumpled letter from his father's hand.
"Doesn't seem to matter much anymore...he was the only one who really understood or cared anyway," the blond stated gloomily.
"Listen, Ken...I-I know I don't say it very often but...I-I just want you to know that as a father, I couldn't have asked for a better son and I couldn't be any prouder than I am right now...and if this is the path you really, truly want to follow then...your mother and I will support you one hundred percent," the older Hutchinson said sincerely as he squeezed his son's shoulder and then patted his back.
"So you won't be mad at me if I quit my job at the pharmacy?" the blond asked with apprehension.
His father chuckled then replied, "No my boy, I won't be mad."
"I-I just wish Granddad could have know that I made it in, ya know," the blond said teary eyed.
"Oh, don't you worry Son, he knows...trust me...he knows," his father said with a reassuring smile as he reached into his sports jacket and pulled out a small box wrapped in navy blue paper and held it out to the blond.
"What's this?" the blond asked with a puzzled look.
"Your mother and I were going through some of your grandfather's things and we found it...your name is on the tag so, here you go," his father said as he continued to hold it out until the blond finally took it.
"I better get back to the house, your mother has a house full of well-wishers...you take as long as you need," the elder Hutchinson said as he gently squeezed his son's shoulder again before getting up from the rocks where he sat.
"Dad...thanks," the blond said with an awkward smile.
His father simply nodded and returned the smile with one of his own.
After his father left the blond sat there for some time before turning his attention to the box he held so gingerly in his hand.
"To Kenneth," he said out loud as he read the silver, embossed gift card on the small box.
He then proceeded to tear the dark paper away to expose a black, velvet box underneath.
The blond took a deep breath then slowly opened the box.
A huge sob escaped his lips when he saw his grandfather's gold pocket watch nestled in the red, satin cloth that lined the inside of the box.
With a shaky hand, he reached into the box and pulled out the watch.
He fingered the long, gold chain with the herringbone design then he opened the watch and ran his fingertips across the roman numerals that displayed the correct time.
He always loved the antique, gold timepiece and as a young boy his grandfather would let him play with it as long as he was very careful.
He knew every little scratch and wear on the watch, inside and out.
As he lovingly rubbed the cherished heirloom in his hand he turned it over and was surprised to see the engraved words on the back, something that had not been there previously.
As he read the inscription a lump caught in his throught, "Kenneth, always follow your dreams, Granddad."
"Oh Granddad," he said as a huge sob racked his body and the tears spilled down his face.