Page 71 of Boy Blue
My shoulders relaxed. I could feel vitamin D building up in my system.
“How about that hot dog, Jack?” Morgan asked.
I turned to see him pointing to a lone hot dog vendor who looked on the verge of shutting down for the evening. There was a wind kicking across the sand, and the beach was mostly empty. One lone couple was walking south along the water’s edge as the sun streaked long lines of sparkling light across the water, and that was it. Except for the four of us.
I reached into the pocket of my shorts for my wallet, but Morgan waved me off.
“Not this hot dog,” he said. He held out his wallet to Jack. “Get one for each of us, Jack. Get two. Get sodas and chips. Wolfe can help you carry.” Morgan looked at me, leaning on his cane. “Right, Wolfe?”
“Sure thing,” I said.
My eyes searched for Blue, but he was already at the water, bending over to touch the slight waves, tasting the salt on hisfingers. He had taken off his flip-flops and held them in one hand.
I took a step in his direction, but Jack stopped me.
“Not just yet,” he said.
“What?” Blue’s still form drew me toward him, but Jack’s hand was on my arm and he was ignoring the wallet Morgan held out for him.
“It’s a boxcar boy thing,” Jack said. “Like a ritual.”
“A ritual,” I said, feeling like an echo.
“We all had a story we told ourselves.” He held up Morgan’s wallet. “About what we’d do when we reached our destination. Mine was buying a hot dog from a vendor on the beach and then sitting down to eat it with my toes in the sand.”
“And Blue’s?” I asked. “What was his ritual?”
“He sometimes talked about standing in the water as the sun went down.” Jack shook his head. “About saying goodbye to his past. Saying goodbye for good.”
If Blue had mentioned his ritual to me, I should have remembered it, but so much had happened since he’d fallen on Diamond Willow Lane in a driving blizzard. I would ask him about it later. In the meantime, I needed to trust Jack and the bond he held with Blue. And with Star, if we should someday find him.
My chest tightened around my heart as I watched Blue. He was standing with his back to me, a silhouette with fair hair. He drew his arm across his face, and I realized he was crying. For a family that didn’t love him. For a brother he’d lost. For the cruelty that had happened and shouldn’t have.
Reluctantly, I followed Jack to the hot dog vendor, who was only too glad to sell us six hot dogs at half price. He threw in four small bags of chips for free and a six-pack of coke.
“I’m out of ice and cups,” he said. “But at least I won’t have to drag it all back to my van.”
“Happy to help,” Jack said, paying him cash from Morgan’s wallet and giving him a big tip.
We made our way back to Morgan, who’d managed to lower himself to the sand. His right knee was bent. His left knee, which was straight out in front of him, was lined with scars and looked fragile without its brace.
“I’m going to need help up for sure,” he said with a growl, but I think he was pleased that he’d managed it on his own. His purple can lay half-buried in the sand beside him. But whether the vagaries of the sand had buried it by accident, or he’d buried it on purpose, I couldn’t be sure.
“I’ll be here when you need me,” I said.
As Jack handed out the food, I kept an eye on Blue.
He’d walked a little way up the beach to a bit of sand that jutted out into the water, which lapped at his bare feet. He looked so alone, but I hope he didn’tfeelalone, at least not anymore. He had Jack and Morgan and Mabel and the people in town, all of whom cared about him. And he had me, who loved him beyond reason, in a wild and deep way that I felt all the way to my bones.
I looked down. Jack was sitting in the sand, his toes buried in it. He was shoulder to shoulder with Morgan, and both of them were eating hot dogs and watching the sun sink lower and lower as it sent out red and gold shafts of light.
From time to time, they smiled at each other, secret, silent smiles, a communication without words, with no need for translation. If this was Jack’s destination, this moment with Morgan, he well and truly deserved it. Deserved the happiness he and Morgan would share together.
Behind them, over the Santa Monica skyline, a salty haze was lowering, turning dark purple at the edges. The air smelled crisp, the scent of the ocean intensifying as the air grew cooler.
I watched the sun go down, and the sky softly darken toward twilight. The sun sank into the horizon of water, an illusion turning it into an orange disc that had been bitten into, and then a half disc, and then a spot just above the water.
Ambient light sprayed over everything, a wash of dying light so brilliant and sprawling that I was stunned. I was a boy from the low country and, in my world, sunsets came through trees, streaked and sliced, the secret darkness creeping from beneath low branches and Spanish moss. Here, the sunset was a bold statement, and the beach was suddenly draped with shadows.
