Ping

Laughter at the beach tickles my ears, blending with the harmony of the crashing waves. Smiles on every beachgoer greet my gaze as the sun shines down upon us. The perfect day off. Away from the four walls of the office building located many miles away. Time to just lie back and enjoy the ocean view. My eyes close, allowing the gentle, serene waves to soothe my nerves and wash away thoughts of stress. Tension recedes from my muscles with each pat from the water on the shore while the sun kisses my dark skin. This is what they mean when they say tropical bliss.

A tiny ping traverses through my tranquility, pulling my eyelid up and twisting my stomach. Another ping pounces from behind me. The annoying cell phone notification. I scan for the source. Two people glancing over their phones, pop earbuds in their ears. At least they’ll listen to their phones in silence. So thoughtful. My eyes shut and sleep overcomes me.

“Alysha, girl, wake up!” A voice calls, disrupting a perfectly euphoric dream. “Alysha!”

My eyes blink open. Shyann’s hand extends and nudges my shoulder. I swat it away. “Girl, what? I’m up!” I say.

“You’re missing the beach.”

“How can I be missing the beach when we’re here? I’m doing exactly what we set out to do. Rest.”

Shyann pulls out her cellphone. “No, we need to document our arrival here. Selfie style.”

A look of disgust flashes over my face while she fidgets to open the camera app. Cell phones. The bane of human existence. An uncomfortable smile forms before Shyann turns to face me.

“Oh, don’t be a sourpuss. Put on a better smile.” She reads.

“Shy, I would prefer you don’t take my picture.”

“It’s just a picture. It’s not going to kill you, Lys.”

“It’s just…” I sigh. “Whatever.” That’s the problem with traveling with your best friend. My lips part, exposing the pearly whites hidden behind them, but not the anxiety.

“That’s better.” She holds the phone at arm’s length and snaps a shot. My smile fades the second her head bows down to her phone. A weight of guilt builds in my stomach. Too late now.

“If it’s alright with you, I’m going back to sleep.” My head plops on the orange inflatable pillow resting on the sand. Might as well enjoy this moment while I can since I can’t afford to travel far from here.

“Ok, sleeping beauty. Just remember to—” Slumber cuts off her final words as I drift off to dreamland.

Ping. Am I dreaming? Ping. Shyann’s phone’s notifications scream in one-second intervals. Where is that girl? I rise from the towel to search for her whereabouts. Our eyes meet and she waves to me from the shoreline. “Shy, your phone’s pinging.”

She breaks into a sprint back to our tiny beach camp and picks up her phone. She glances at the screen. Earbuds fly out of her bag and into her ears. She sits in silence. Her eyes trembling, digesting the message and information on her screen. I should look over her shoulder and confirm what I suspect she’s watching, but instead I shake my head at the absurd obsession of the digital device and rise to my feet. My legs quiver, but I keep my balance. “Look, I’m going for a quick stroll down the beach. Be back soon.” Shyann eyes remain locked on her phone, oblivious to my announcement or movement. I stroll away in silence. My limited time choking the air out of my freedom.

Each step into the soothing coolness of ocean water and white sand blend pacify my feet and my nerves. I came to the beach to untether myself from cell phones and technology. Witnessing so many people submit to their dopamine addiction ignites an angry flame within me. Just focus on the serenity of the calm, healing waves. The chant repeats in my head the further away from Shyann I drift. Taking in what nature offers. A school of fish. A beached monk seal. Sea turtles popping their heads out for a quick breath, reminding me of why I’m on this vacation. Floating weightlessly away from the evolving world around me.

Ping.

The sea turtle submerges. Ping. My head swivels. Where is it coming from? Ping. Why am I hearing it here? A group of children climb out from the ocean, each scrambling towards their towels where the source of the pestering ping persists. They pull out their earbuds and pop them into place over their ear, and dive into a trance over their screen. Not again. Why can’t we have a world without cellphones? Just live in the moment.

I exhale deeply and turn to retrace my steps. Turtles hide underwater. Fish dart away with each heavy step towards my own towel camp. Even the monk seal croaks and scoots its way to the water. It swims away, avoiding the shift of emotional temperature from the barrage of cell phone notification pings. Sunbather sits up. Shoreline swimmers emerge from the water, sprinting to their towels. Beach ball bumpers abandon their game to the majestic phone pings. Shyann stares as I stroll to our sandy camp. Terror swimming in her irises. She is not alone. Two uniformed officers stand next to her, one on either side. Earbuds planted in their ears. I should have told her about my cellphone.

“Alysha Roberts?” One of them says, signaling the end of my freedom. I nod. “You’re under arrest.”

“It’s a fucking dumb law.” I spit and brace myself to run. Shyann stands, earbuds and all. Other beachgoers gravitate toward us, making me the center of disturbance. No escape. An officer read me my rights while the other clamps cold steel of handcuffs over my wrists. All of this over an invasive cellphone law. A line of witnesses stand with the phone cameras on me as the officers escort me to the police car and secure me in the back seat. My car’s driver plops into his seat as the crowd disperses. The engine roars to life. We pull away, heading to the police station. Less than three minutes later. Ping. Cellphone in one hand, he drives. His ears drinking in the message.

“Yes, the violator neutralized. State message received. En route now. ETA thirty minutes. May God bless our Supreme Leader.” The officer says.

Nature’s scenery speeds past me, and a glistening tear of happiness creeps down my cheek. My freedom from the entangled web of cyber communication granted by my deportation from this country.