Dead Men Tell Some Tales

Tell us about a time when you felt out of place

As I sat with my left blinker on, exiting the IBM entrance, I was already tasting brie cheese and Chardonnay. 

It was Friday, and Sue and my weekly ritual was about to commence: A blanket; a cooler; and a walk across Highway A1A to watch the sun set with wine and cheese.

I had no idea that this Friday would be any different.

We were lucky enough to have fallen into a steal: a spacious 2Br/2Ba apt directly across A1A from the beach in Boca Raton. It included free cable, trash, water and sewer. Sometimes we had to pinch ourselves.

It became our cherished Friday ritual to sit on the beach and catch up on the week’s events as the eastern sky grew rosy, then indigo. Even in the winter…when everyone grew excited at the prospect of a “cold front” with temps plunging into the 50s…we still had our beach time.

Initially, it was just us. But when Kristen came along, we saw no reason to stop. Actually, it became even more fun, potching around in the tidal tools and building sand castles.

However, on this particular Friday, I opened the door to find Kristen crying and Sue sitting on the couch with a box of Kleenex. 

“Oh, honey,” she said. “I can’t go today. Kristen and I have colds.” Kristen looked at me mournfully and sneezed. 

Looked like it was just gonna be me.

As I walked along the beach, sans wine and cheese, it was still fun. The week at work had gone well, no screw ups and several pats on the back. Things were looking good.

I walked much further than I usually did with Kristen and found several interesting things: Part of a sea fan; a green glass globe; and some beautiful shells. I paused to shake each of them off in the water and look at them carefully.

On this day, I also found a bowl. At least, that’s what I thought at first glance. After I rinsed it off, I wasn’t so sure. It had a very irregular rim and didn’t look like china or clay. Most peculiar, it had this strange zigzag mark on the back that was slightly recessed.

When I got home, Sue met me outside on the walkway as I picked my treasures out of a plastic supermarket bag and showed her.

“Uh huh,” she said patiently. “Yep… cool globe…very nice … oh, another shell, huh?” Great.

She blew her nose and pointed. “Wait… what’s that?”

I was holding the mystery object. “It’s a bowl. I think.” 

She didn’t touch it, but she asked me to turn it over. Her eyes widened at the sight of the zigzag crack. 

“That’s not a bowl,” she said. “I think that’s a skull.”

I looked at it more carefully. Maybe she was right.

“You’re not taking that thing in here,” she said and shuddered. “I think you should take it to the police station.”

Suddenly the thing in my hand seemed to triple in weight.

The Boca police station was closed but there was a lady in the office.

“Yes?” she asked through the circular hole.

“Uhm… I found this this afternoon on the beach. I think it might be a skull.”

Suddenly, I had her interest. She came out through the door and took it from me. She gingerly turned it over several times and gave me a look.

I’d watched enough true crime shows to know that the chief suspect is sometimes the one who calls in a crime. When she asked for my name and address, I thought for a split second of simply walking out, or giving a fake name and information; but my conscience wouldn’t allow it. I gave her my name, address and phone number.

She gave me a final, wary look. “Thank you,” she said. “Someone will be in touch.”

The next morning, I was eating Captain Crunch and watching TV as Sue and Kristen slept. Suddenly there was a knock on the door. More of a heavy thud, actually.

I opened the door and my stomach dropped. There were two uniformed cops, a guy in a suit, and another guy in a suit with a big bag.

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” the one cop said. “Are you Darryl?”

I went into traffic stop mode. “Yes, sir.”

He introduced his partner, then pointed. “This is detective Ramos and the Palm Beach County medical examiner, Dr Kulbuch.” 

I nodded and shook hands.

“Would you mind showing us exactly where you found that… uh… object?”

“Sure,” I said. My mind raced. Should I invite them in? It wasn’t like we had any pot plants or guns lying around. Still, their trained eyes might pick up something. But I didn’t want to be rude. The officer made it easy.

“We’ll wait for you out here,” he said.

I shut the door and collided with Sue, who had been lurking in the hallway, listening.

“What’s going on?” she hissed. “Are those cops? What do they want?”

I brushed her aside as I pulled on a pair of jeans, a shirts, and sneakers.

“It’s about that thing I found,” I whispered. “I’ll tell you later.”

It was around 11:00 am and the beach was filling up. Girls laid on towels as guys flipped frisbees. I felt distinctly out of place, especially leading two uniformed cops and two guys in suits. I was acutely aware of people staring.

Finally, I reached the spot I thought was right. 

“I think it was here,” I said.

About a half a mile offshore, I noticed the beach renourishment ship at anchor. Because of human-introduced things like jetties and piers, the natural cycle was disrupted. Beaches were starved of sand in some areas, and o reflowing in others. Routinely, they pumped sand from offshore onto places where it was needed.

The medical examiner put down his bag while the uniformed cops, in their dark suits, wiped their brows. The ME pulled stakes from his bag and pounded them into the sand in about a hundred-foot perimeter. After he had finished his demarcation, he affixed yellow caution tape ”CRIME SCENE: DO NOT CROSS.”

If anybody had a passing interest before, now it was something else. The frisbees were forgotten, the towels abandoned, even the few surfers who were out on that small-wave day came in to see what was going on.

They spent hours digging, making several holes, up to 18” deep. The coats and ties were abandoned as the sweat rolled down their brows and they took turns. People just over the other side of the tape asked me quietly what was going on, but a sharp glance from the detective was enough to shut us both up.

Eventually, late in the afternoon, no further bones had been discovered and the crowds dispersed. We all trooped back to my apartment parking lot, sweaty and drained. 

The cops shook my hand and thanked me for my help; my fears of being an accomplice evaporated.

A few things I learned later were it was a human skull from a Caucasian male. He was around 40 and had most likely drowned and sucked up by the beach renourishment project. All 206 of his bones had been ignominiously deposited along Boca beach with tons of sand; and had I not happened to be walking there on that day at that time and tide, he’d have never been noted.

I followed the case. Surely, a 40-yo white guy who drowned off Boca must have surely made the press? 

But it was not to be.

The Gulf Stream off Boca makes one of its closest approaches to the eastern seaboard. There’s no telling where this guy drowned or under what circumstances. I’d like to think he died a peaceful death… but I’ll never know.

Years later, we were at a family reunion. around sunset one day, Sue and I sat took a break from the family activities and sat on our old beach. Unlike west Boca, time had changed little; our old apartment building, the boardwalk, the dunes were pretty much the same.

Sue gripped my hand. “Dar,” she said, “What are you thinking about?”

I sat, looking at the darkening horizon. Far out to sea, barely visible, a cargo ship headed north.

“I dunno,” I said. “Just wondering who that poor guy was all those years ago…and hoping he had a peaceful end.” The theme from Miami Vice played faintly in my mind.

She paused and leaned in closer.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But you did the right thing.” She kissed me on the top of my head and left.

I sat for a long time looking out at the horizon, almost invisible by now in the twilight, I thought about all those lost at sea: Some from battle; some during exploration; others from bad weather or bad luck.

But also of a coming day: a glorious and terrible day, when all.would be summoned, from both the earth and the deeps of the sea.

I hope one day I’ll meet him and finally learn his story.

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