On the far side of the roadway, the man walked the short distance to the pathway that led to the beach. Once past the scrub brush and small trees, the near-total darkness surprised him, causing him to pause until his eyes became accustomed to this darkened world. When he could finally focus through the black of the night, he plodded forward, feet wallowing in the soft sand like a boat in a heavy sea.
The man stopped, thinking he'd heard some movement behind him, but after listening a few minutes could discern no human sound and was satisfied he was alone. Aside from the infrequent sound of a passing car on the avenue, only the murmur of unseen waves lapping at the sand broke the stillness. He moved forward until the sound of the sea and the firmness of the sand suggested he was close to the water's edge. He retraced his steps a few paces to assure he was on the soft dry sand above the high-tide line, carefully placed his towel down, sat on it and removed his shoes and socks. He slipped the motel key in the left shoe and then rolled each sock, pushing it into its corresponding shoe.
By the time the man had finished, his night vision was better and he could make out the tiny necklace of lights in the distance, the Chesapeake Bridge-Tunnel that ran 17 miles to the Eastern shore. A breeze picked up at the shoreline, wrinkling the water as the waves slowly rolled toward him in silver lines. He considered once more the folly of his undertaking, but pushed away his second thoughts. He stood, removed first his hat, then his t-shirt. The t-shirt was carefully placed front-side up on the towel. He secured it with a shoe on either side. He slapped the hat back on his head, took a deep breath and began to slowly walk toward the water.