How long had I been staggering along? I was wet, cold and my head felt like the inside of a drum after a very
long concert. Only the drummer was still playing. What was I looking for? My vision was blurry. There were
blinking lights all over the place. The sight or cars moving along with no road noise was very strange. It was
as if they were floating on air. I was walking past many cars with their lights flashing. That was it!
I was looking for my truck. Now it was coming back to me. I was on the beach. The longest beach in America.
Long Beach, Washington. I think it was a convention for the feeble-minded? There were thousands of people
out there pounding on the ground with sticks. Occasionally they would fall to the ground and start digging in
the sand. They were using many different types of tools. What could have caused all these people to have
lost their minds at the same time? Maybe the bag I was carrying would give me some clues?
It was tied to my side with a piece of rope. My hands though, were just too cold to untie the thing. I would
need some help if I were to peer at the contents of the bag. I think there were many people out there who
were in need of some help. Was there anybody that was not affected by this madness? All I could do was to
stagger on.
Then there was a tug at my sleeve and another tug at my memory. "Dad, I think that is our truck over there?"
Where had that sound come from? A voice as if from nowhere. Perhaps I truly had gone mad? Oh yes! My
son was there staggering along with me. Was that really our truck or just a mirage? No it could not be a
mirage because it was dark. The sun had long disappeared. The wavy look of the truck was cause by the
sheets of rain falling before my eyes. Yes, that was our truck. Possibly some answers would await us, at the
truck, as to the cause of all this madness.
As we approached, an angel appeared in the middle of a bright light. I thought that perhaps I had actually died.
This angel helped me off with my wet clothes. I was thinking that it was quite unusual to have an angel do this
when the smallest shreds of recognition passed briefly through my head. Neither the angel nor the light was
from heaven. The light was coming from the inside of the truck. The angel being my wife. My wife being
possibly the only sane person left around. She said something but I could not understand what it was. I
chipped away at the ice around my ears and thawed my eardrums so that they would vibrate to sound again. I
was at last able to make out what she was saying. DID YOU GET ANY CLAMS?
Now for me being as near to death as I was, how many clams I may have gotten or not gotten was not high on
my list of priorities. She rubbed my hands and face until I was able to mumble a response. It was not received
very well. She later claimed that I said something inelegant in Russian. Russian not being one of my strong
points, I decided this theory must be incorrect. Most likely it was my inability to move my lips properly that
caused the misunderstanding. We were able to finally pry my fingers from around the bag and look inside.
Two clams graced the bottom of the bag.
As the heater of the truck warmed me there could be heard this strange ticking sound. Not unlike the sound
made by many clocks in a clock shop. This sound was later determined to be my teeth chattering. Why was I
out here? Could it be the fact that The High Commander likes seafood, or had I just gone mad? Most likely I
was mad to begin with and did not need much pushing to get me out here. In any case I sat in the warmth of
the truck remembering the ordeal we had been through that day.
We had arrived in the early afternoon and did a little shopping at the tourist-trap store. This place was very
unusual. There were all kinds of weird things there. Two headed calfs. An Alligator Man (half man half
alligator) and many things like this that you would expect to see in a 1930's side show. In fact I felt a little funny
walking around in there.
Knowing that The High Commander would like to look around longer than my son and I, and the fact that we
had gone around the store twice already, we (son & I) took a walk around town. This way we would not be the
High Commanders "little tails." This is what she call's us as we follow her through a store without much
enthusiasm. I am not sure how long we were gone but there seemed to be something wrong with The High
Commander when we returned to the store. She had not moved from the spot we had left her in. Had some of
the strange articles in the store enslaved her or could she have just stepped in some glue and was unable to
move. Whatever it was, just my pleasant presence was able to get her out the door. She later claimed that it
was unnecessary to carry her out like that. She seemed to think that was a bit embarrassing. I on the other
hand, not knowing what-evil force had possessed her, had acted in her best interest. The strange and severe
words she had been saying finally subsided. It was a relief. I concluded that the evil presence had left. (Later I
realized that this force had found out where we were headed and left in his or her own best interest.)
We headed for the beach. It did not take very long. The store was mere feet from the beach. Soon we were
cruising down the beach at a pleasant speed. There were not many people there at this time, so I increased
my speed. That's when the evil presence made a quick reappearance. The High Commander said later that
the bump on her head did not hurt so bad. If only I had missed that hole the kids had been playing in and had
not tried to jump the creek washing across the beach (with the truck) the bump would not have been so big. I
said that I thought that all that hair on her head would have protected her from bouncing off the ceiling of the
truck. She said it did not in so many words.
We finally arrived at a spot I determined would have some clams. Not knowing what that spot should look like I
just faked it. We all donned our rain gear and gathered our various tools for the digging of the clams. We
bravely headed for the water. I watched the few people out there and started to mimic them. I was conscious
of the fact that there were other people watching me and mimicking me. Maybe this was just some type of an
experiment. I was not yet confident of getting anything. Was it possible this was just another form of Snipe
hunting? Were there really any clams here?
Soon more cars were stopping and the people were coming over near us. I thought that if all these people had
known that none of us on the beach knew what we were doing they would move on. But soon there was quite
a crowd. As it started to get dark, The High Commander went back to the truck. Bashoy Raub and I soon lit our
lantern. As the tide went out a few people would actually dig up a clam now and then. I and a lot of other
people were standing there in the dark of night, in the pouring rain, wading in the freezing surf, pounding on
the sand with sticks, and hoping beyond hope to see the tiniest indication of a slimly shell clad creature that
lived in the sand. The indication we were looking for looked exactly like a rain drop hitting the sand. It seemed
nearly impossible in this rainstorm. By some miracle and by sticking like glue to this older couple and their
father, and asking more questions than anyone should have to bare, we came up with two clams. By this time
I was cold and wet and tired of watching this couple dig up clam after clam where I did not see any difference
in the sand from what we had just passed. I decided to head for the truck.
As I turned and looked up the beach to where the truck should be, all I could see was flashing lights. Blurry
lights at that. Not having windshield wipers on this set of glasses, 1 had taken them off earlier because it was
raining so hard. It was very dark and many people had left their lights on flasher so it would be easier to find.
The problem was that so many people had done this that it was useless. Luckily I did not have this problem. I
had not thought that far ahead. I had done nothing to help myself find the truck. Just try wondering around on
the beach a few hours in the dark. Walking back and forth. Looking only at the sand near to your feet. You
have no idea where you are. We had to walk very far down the beach and back to finally put myself in the
position I was at, at the beginning of this story.
There was a solid line of cars driving both ways up and down the beach. As far as you could see there were
cars. I imagine we could see ten or more miles of beach. We needed a traffic light to stop the cars just so we
could get in line. We waited for a while for a spot to open up. We had about 3.5 hours to drive to get home and
so wanted to get going. At last we inserted ourselves in this line and started on our drive home.
After a while I was getting pretty sleepy. The High Commander said she would drive but I was worried
because it was raining so hard which made it very difficult to see the road. We were on just a two-lane country
road, and there were logging trucks coming the other way. They would blind you with their lights making it
nearly impossible to see the road. Well she started driving and I fell asleep. She was new to driving and I
guess I fell asleep with this nagging doubt as to her ability to navigate such treacherous roads, and with this
fear that she would crash us. When I woke up a few minutes later I did not know where we were at. The High
Commander was turning off the road we were on so I grabbed the steering wheel and forced her to the side of
the road. I really was still asleep though, and the side of the road turned out to be the middle of a freeway off
ramp. It was also an hour later than I thought. That was the last appearance of the evil presence that night.
long concert. Only the drummer was still playing. What was I looking for? My vision was blurry. There were
blinking lights all over the place. The sight or cars moving along with no road noise was very strange. It was
as if they were floating on air. I was walking past many cars with their lights flashing. That was it!
I was looking for my truck. Now it was coming back to me. I was on the beach. The longest beach in America.
Long Beach, Washington. I think it was a convention for the feeble-minded? There were thousands of people
out there pounding on the ground with sticks. Occasionally they would fall to the ground and start digging in
the sand. They were using many different types of tools. What could have caused all these people to have
lost their minds at the same time? Maybe the bag I was carrying would give me some clues?
It was tied to my side with a piece of rope. My hands though, were just too cold to untie the thing. I would
need some help if I were to peer at the contents of the bag. I think there were many people out there who
were in need of some help. Was there anybody that was not affected by this madness? All I could do was to
stagger on.
Then there was a tug at my sleeve and another tug at my memory. "Dad, I think that is our truck over there?"
Where had that sound come from? A voice as if from nowhere. Perhaps I truly had gone mad? Oh yes! My
son was there staggering along with me. Was that really our truck or just a mirage? No it could not be a
mirage because it was dark. The sun had long disappeared. The wavy look of the truck was cause by the
sheets of rain falling before my eyes. Yes, that was our truck. Possibly some answers would await us, at the
truck, as to the cause of all this madness.
As we approached, an angel appeared in the middle of a bright light. I thought that perhaps I had actually died.
This angel helped me off with my wet clothes. I was thinking that it was quite unusual to have an angel do this
when the smallest shreds of recognition passed briefly through my head. Neither the angel nor the light was
from heaven. The light was coming from the inside of the truck. The angel being my wife. My wife being
possibly the only sane person left around. She said something but I could not understand what it was. I
chipped away at the ice around my ears and thawed my eardrums so that they would vibrate to sound again. I
was at last able to make out what she was saying. DID YOU GET ANY CLAMS?
Now for me being as near to death as I was, how many clams I may have gotten or not gotten was not high on
my list of priorities. She rubbed my hands and face until I was able to mumble a response. It was not received
very well. She later claimed that I said something inelegant in Russian. Russian not being one of my strong
points, I decided this theory must be incorrect. Most likely it was my inability to move my lips properly that
caused the misunderstanding. We were able to finally pry my fingers from around the bag and look inside.
Two clams graced the bottom of the bag.
As the heater of the truck warmed me there could be heard this strange ticking sound. Not unlike the sound
made by many clocks in a clock shop. This sound was later determined to be my teeth chattering. Why was I
out here? Could it be the fact that The High Commander likes seafood, or had I just gone mad? Most likely I
was mad to begin with and did not need much pushing to get me out here. In any case I sat in the warmth of
the truck remembering the ordeal we had been through that day.
We had arrived in the early afternoon and did a little shopping at the tourist-trap store. This place was very
unusual. There were all kinds of weird things there. Two headed calfs. An Alligator Man (half man half
alligator) and many things like this that you would expect to see in a 1930's side show. In fact I felt a little funny
walking around in there.
Knowing that The High Commander would like to look around longer than my son and I, and the fact that we
had gone around the store twice already, we (son & I) took a walk around town. This way we would not be the
High Commanders "little tails." This is what she call's us as we follow her through a store without much
enthusiasm. I am not sure how long we were gone but there seemed to be something wrong with The High
Commander when we returned to the store. She had not moved from the spot we had left her in. Had some of
the strange articles in the store enslaved her or could she have just stepped in some glue and was unable to
move. Whatever it was, just my pleasant presence was able to get her out the door. She later claimed that it
was unnecessary to carry her out like that. She seemed to think that was a bit embarrassing. I on the other
hand, not knowing what-evil force had possessed her, had acted in her best interest. The strange and severe
words she had been saying finally subsided. It was a relief. I concluded that the evil presence had left. (Later I
realized that this force had found out where we were headed and left in his or her own best interest.)
We headed for the beach. It did not take very long. The store was mere feet from the beach. Soon we were
cruising down the beach at a pleasant speed. There were not many people there at this time, so I increased
my speed. That's when the evil presence made a quick reappearance. The High Commander said later that
the bump on her head did not hurt so bad. If only I had missed that hole the kids had been playing in and had
not tried to jump the creek washing across the beach (with the truck) the bump would not have been so big. I
said that I thought that all that hair on her head would have protected her from bouncing off the ceiling of the
truck. She said it did not in so many words.
We finally arrived at a spot I determined would have some clams. Not knowing what that spot should look like I
just faked it. We all donned our rain gear and gathered our various tools for the digging of the clams. We
bravely headed for the water. I watched the few people out there and started to mimic them. I was conscious
of the fact that there were other people watching me and mimicking me. Maybe this was just some type of an
experiment. I was not yet confident of getting anything. Was it possible this was just another form of Snipe
hunting? Were there really any clams here?
Soon more cars were stopping and the people were coming over near us. I thought that if all these people had
known that none of us on the beach knew what we were doing they would move on. But soon there was quite
a crowd. As it started to get dark, The High Commander went back to the truck. Bashoy Raub and I soon lit our
lantern. As the tide went out a few people would actually dig up a clam now and then. I and a lot of other
people were standing there in the dark of night, in the pouring rain, wading in the freezing surf, pounding on
the sand with sticks, and hoping beyond hope to see the tiniest indication of a slimly shell clad creature that
lived in the sand. The indication we were looking for looked exactly like a rain drop hitting the sand. It seemed
nearly impossible in this rainstorm. By some miracle and by sticking like glue to this older couple and their
father, and asking more questions than anyone should have to bare, we came up with two clams. By this time
I was cold and wet and tired of watching this couple dig up clam after clam where I did not see any difference
in the sand from what we had just passed. I decided to head for the truck.
As I turned and looked up the beach to where the truck should be, all I could see was flashing lights. Blurry
lights at that. Not having windshield wipers on this set of glasses, 1 had taken them off earlier because it was
raining so hard. It was very dark and many people had left their lights on flasher so it would be easier to find.
The problem was that so many people had done this that it was useless. Luckily I did not have this problem. I
had not thought that far ahead. I had done nothing to help myself find the truck. Just try wondering around on
the beach a few hours in the dark. Walking back and forth. Looking only at the sand near to your feet. You
have no idea where you are. We had to walk very far down the beach and back to finally put myself in the
position I was at, at the beginning of this story.
There was a solid line of cars driving both ways up and down the beach. As far as you could see there were
cars. I imagine we could see ten or more miles of beach. We needed a traffic light to stop the cars just so we
could get in line. We waited for a while for a spot to open up. We had about 3.5 hours to drive to get home and
so wanted to get going. At last we inserted ourselves in this line and started on our drive home.
After a while I was getting pretty sleepy. The High Commander said she would drive but I was worried
because it was raining so hard which made it very difficult to see the road. We were on just a two-lane country
road, and there were logging trucks coming the other way. They would blind you with their lights making it
nearly impossible to see the road. Well she started driving and I fell asleep. She was new to driving and I
guess I fell asleep with this nagging doubt as to her ability to navigate such treacherous roads, and with this
fear that she would crash us. When I woke up a few minutes later I did not know where we were at. The High
Commander was turning off the road we were on so I grabbed the steering wheel and forced her to the side of
the road. I really was still asleep though, and the side of the road turned out to be the middle of a freeway off
ramp. It was also an hour later than I thought. That was the last appearance of the evil presence that night.
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Clam Chowder
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