seconds pass. Then, at last, there are sirens.
"You did it."
Aldo moves slowly to the window, opening the blinds and peering out. After a minute, he comes away. "
We
did it." He allows himself a long exhale and settles back into his chair.
You nod at Aldo, knowing you both did good. You spoke, he repeated, the message got through.
"What? You got more to say?" Aldo asks, picking up on your thoughts.
"No. I mean, I don't know. Do you think that's why I'm st S's divill hanging around? There's some kind of message I'm supposed to get across?"
"Maybe unfinished business?"
"I don't know." You cross your arms and walk to the window. The red and blue patrol-car lights flicker through the blinds, washing the room in color. "This dead stuff is really frustrating."
"You want to talk about it?" offers Aldo. "I'm a good listener, and I have nothing else to do, really. Sure, the girls will come in to tuck me into bed after a while, but until then, I'm all yours."
The back of your neck, or what used to be there, prickles. If your hair could stand on end, it would. You don't know if that's because this is all meant to be or if it's because you're going against whatever rules exist.
"What rules?" asks Aldo. "There's me and you and no tunnel of light."
You sense there is some kind of opportunity here, but noticing the old guy's tired face, the slump of his posture, you say, "I'd better go check on the minimart people."
"Sure, go rattle some chains somewhere," Aldo says.
As you fade, you can't miss the sadness in his eyes. It haunts you.
***
On Tuesday afternoon, Jason waited on the marina's dock. Minutes were ticking by, and still no Holly—and no Dad. He'd promised to get there early, to help Jason rig everything so it would be all ready for the sail. But, then again, that's how his promises were sometimes. Spoken wholeheartedly, delivered half-assed.
Jason's spirits lifted when he saw Holly, her grandpa, and her little sister, Lena, walking across the parking lot of the marina. Holly had seemed excited when he'd caught her in chemistry that morning to tell her they were on for the sail, but he kind of expected her to bail at the last second. He should have known that wasn't like her.
"Hey there." Jason opened the gate and let his three guests through. "The
Lucky Lucy
is this way."
Holly lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun. "Sorry we're late. We took the bus."
"Geez. I didn't think—I should have picked you up."
"No worries," Holly said.
"Hi. You really have a boat?" asked Lena. A younger, smaller version of Holly, except with much darker hair, she skipped behind them on the dock.
"Yep, and I'll teach you a little about sailing it," he said. "Hi there, Grandpa Aldo, how are you?"
The old man looked at Jason as if he heard him, but he didn't respond. His wrinkled face didn't show any expression.
S"0e>
"Grandpa had a rough night," said Holly. "His window faces the street, and there was a robbery at the minimart last night. Lots of police."
"There were loud sirens," added Lena.
"Oh, that sucks," Jason said.
"Tell me about it," Holly said. "The store owner's in the hospital."
They got to the
Lucky Lucy,
and Jason threw his backpack aboard and unclipped the lifeline gate on the side of the boat to let everyone up. As they climbed aboard, he noticed Holly and Lena's tennis shoes. They would work, but Grandpa Aldo's black loafers would probably mark up the deck. That meant extra scrubbing to remove scuff marks later, but he let it go. Grandpa Aldo had the hardest time boarding the boat. He climbed up the short wooden stepladder and then took Jason's hands to help him the rest of the way.
"Here, have a seat, guys."
Grandpa, Lena, and Holly settled on one bench seat in the pit. Jason unlocked and stowed the hatches and retrieved some cushions from the cabin for everyone. They all got comfortable while Jason readied the boat, running the lines. He tried not to freak that his dad still
"You did it."
Aldo moves slowly to the window, opening the blinds and peering out. After a minute, he comes away. "
We
did it." He allows himself a long exhale and settles back into his chair.
You nod at Aldo, knowing you both did good. You spoke, he repeated, the message got through.
"What? You got more to say?" Aldo asks, picking up on your thoughts.
"No. I mean, I don't know. Do you think that's why I'm st S's divill hanging around? There's some kind of message I'm supposed to get across?"
"Maybe unfinished business?"
"I don't know." You cross your arms and walk to the window. The red and blue patrol-car lights flicker through the blinds, washing the room in color. "This dead stuff is really frustrating."
"You want to talk about it?" offers Aldo. "I'm a good listener, and I have nothing else to do, really. Sure, the girls will come in to tuck me into bed after a while, but until then, I'm all yours."
The back of your neck, or what used to be there, prickles. If your hair could stand on end, it would. You don't know if that's because this is all meant to be or if it's because you're going against whatever rules exist.
"What rules?" asks Aldo. "There's me and you and no tunnel of light."
You sense there is some kind of opportunity here, but noticing the old guy's tired face, the slump of his posture, you say, "I'd better go check on the minimart people."
"Sure, go rattle some chains somewhere," Aldo says.
As you fade, you can't miss the sadness in his eyes. It haunts you.
***
On Tuesday afternoon, Jason waited on the marina's dock. Minutes were ticking by, and still no Holly—and no Dad. He'd promised to get there early, to help Jason rig everything so it would be all ready for the sail. But, then again, that's how his promises were sometimes. Spoken wholeheartedly, delivered half-assed.
Jason's spirits lifted when he saw Holly, her grandpa, and her little sister, Lena, walking across the parking lot of the marina. Holly had seemed excited when he'd caught her in chemistry that morning to tell her they were on for the sail, but he kind of expected her to bail at the last second. He should have known that wasn't like her.
"Hey there." Jason opened the gate and let his three guests through. "The
Lucky Lucy
is this way."
Holly lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the afternoon sun. "Sorry we're late. We took the bus."
"Geez. I didn't think—I should have picked you up."
"No worries," Holly said.
"Hi. You really have a boat?" asked Lena. A younger, smaller version of Holly, except with much darker hair, she skipped behind them on the dock.
"Yep, and I'll teach you a little about sailing it," he said. "Hi there, Grandpa Aldo, how are you?"
The old man looked at Jason as if he heard him, but he didn't respond. His wrinkled face didn't show any expression.
S"0e>
"Grandpa had a rough night," said Holly. "His window faces the street, and there was a robbery at the minimart last night. Lots of police."
"There were loud sirens," added Lena.
"Oh, that sucks," Jason said.
"Tell me about it," Holly said. "The store owner's in the hospital."
They got to the
Lucky Lucy,
and Jason threw his backpack aboard and unclipped the lifeline gate on the side of the boat to let everyone up. As they climbed aboard, he noticed Holly and Lena's tennis shoes. They would work, but Grandpa Aldo's black loafers would probably mark up the deck. That meant extra scrubbing to remove scuff marks later, but he let it go. Grandpa Aldo had the hardest time boarding the boat. He climbed up the short wooden stepladder and then took Jason's hands to help him the rest of the way.
"Here, have a seat, guys."
Grandpa, Lena, and Holly settled on one bench seat in the pit. Jason unlocked and stowed the hatches and retrieved some cushions from the cabin for everyone. They all got comfortable while Jason readied the boat, running the lines. He tried not to freak that his dad still
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