Page 78 of Johnny

Oh. Yeah. I was in the middle of some delusional suburban fantasy where she was my wife and

we’re here celebrating our tenth anniversary. Kids at home with some random babysitter—or maybe

someone’s mother-in-law? How that would happen, I have no clue, since I’m pretty sure neither of us

has a mother, but fuck it. I’m calling this a delusion for a reason—the dog, the four-bedroom house.

She conjures up new eyeshadow colors for Bright Berry Beach.

A laugh bursts out before I can stop it.

“What’s so funny?”

I don’t even attempt an answer. Just get to my feet and finish brushing off all the sand I’ve

collected. “I’m gonna shower. Then… you wanna go get something to eat? I’m kinda hungry.”

She doesn’t get to her feet. Just draws her knees in and hugs them to her chest. “Sure. I could eat.”

“Cool. Meet you inside in fifteen.”

I hesitate for a moment, waiting to see if she’ll say anything else.

But she doesn’t. So I walk off towards the cabaña.

There’s two bathrooms in this place. One main one in the hall leading to the second bedroom and

one in the master.

I take the hall one and get in the shower. It feels good after all the sun. I’m probably gonna have a

nice sunburn tomorrow for my storm-the-island plan. Should’ve seen that coming. After it’s over I

don’t want any survivors tagging me as the sunburned white guy. That’s kind of humiliating.

“Yeah,” I mumble through a sigh. “Because that’s what people will remember about tomorrow,

Johnny. You’re such a dumbass.”

I pull on a white button-down and a pair of dark jeans, then opt for the old boots instead of the new

water shoes. I want a nice meal and that means a nice dining room. And those come with dress codes

and this whole ensemble practically screams ‘resort casual’.

I spend a few minutes finger-combing my hair in the mirror, then walk out of the bathroom and find

the living room empty, so I pick up the room phone and call for a reservation in the dining room.

“How can I help you, Mr. Logan?”

“Um…” I’m just about to explain I’m not Logan, but then I wonder why they only call him Logan?

And then I realize I don’t actually know the dude’s last name. Does he have a last name? Everyone

has a last name, right?

“Mr. Logan?”