So Long, Chester Wheeler(59)

I walked out onto the sand and just stood there, looking at the Pacific Ocean—which I had never seen before—and listening to the rhythmic sound of the flat, shallow waves coming in. Then I plunked down with my butt in the sand and just sat for a time.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Ellie.

She picked up on the second ring.

“Lewis,” she said, sounding a little breathless. “Thank goodness. I haven’t heard from you for days.”

“I’m sorry. Should I have called more often? We’re on the road.”

“Well, I know that,” she said. “I knew you made it to Phoenix, because I could watch the charges come in on the card. Besides, I talked to Mom.”

“I’m sorry if I worried you. You could always have called me.”

“Not worried, exactly,” she said. “I’m just glad for a progress report. I trusted you to let me know if there was anything that needed knowing.”

As she was finishing up that last sentence, I heard a voice over my left shoulder.

“Hey buddy?”

I looked around and up to see a battered young man standing over me. He looked to be maybe seventeen, and probably hadn’t shaved or gotten his hair cut for a year.

I pointed to the phone, so he could see I was busy. He nodded and said no more. But he didn’t go away. He just hung there, making me uneasy.

“So is my dad doing okay?” I heard Ellie ask.

“He’s getting by.”

“Is he there? Can I talk to him?”

“He’s not here. Exactly. He’s in the Winnebago. I’m sitting on the beach.”

“The beach? What are you doing at the beach?”

“Getting out of his hair so he can talk to Mike.”

A long silence.

I could feel that guy still hanging over me, so I whipped my head around and glared at him, hoping he’d get the message. He didn’t. Or, at least, he didn’t act on it.

“Mike . . . as in, my stepfather Mike?”

“Yeah,” I said. “That Mike.”

“That’s unexpected.”

“It was your mom’s idea. She didn’t tell you that part, huh? They’re talking in the Winnebago and I took a walk to get out of the way.”

“Sounds like a good plan. You might want to get out of the state.”

I let that go by.

“So, listen. Here’s what I called to ask you. He wants to increase his pain meds. And that’s not a decision I can make on my own. But I’ve got to tell you—in my opinion, he’s not faking. I really do think the meds aren’t touching his pain at this point. He’s having a tough time. He wanted me to call his doctor, but I can’t imagine his doctor prescribing anything on my say-so. I’m not blood family. I thought you could call and see if he’ll send a prescription to a pharmacy on the road.”

“Why can’t he just take more of the ones he’s already got? If the doctor says it’s okay, that is.”

“If we do that, he’ll run out before we get home.”

“Okay. Yeah. Okay then. I can do that. I’ll call in the morning and let you know how it goes.”

“Thanks, Ellie.”

“Any idea how it’s going with him and Mike?”

“None at all. I’m staying clear.”

“Probably best. I’ll call you.”

We said our goodbyes and ended the call, and I jumped up to face the guy behind me, which I’d been wanting to do for a long time.

“What?”

“Got any money, buddy? Even a dollar or two would help.”

“No,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m not carrying any cash at all.”

It was a flat-out lie. I was carrying some cash in my wallet. It was everything I had left from my final paycheck and my rent party, and when I got home, I’d have to make rent, and I wasn’t giving any of it away.

“Nobody carries cash anymore. It’s too bad. But there’s an ATM right by that yogurt shop. You could get some.”

“No, I can’t. It’s not even my credit card.”

“Oh, you stole somebody’s credit card?”

“No, I didn’t—”

“It’s cool. I’m not judging.”

“I didn’t—”

“Don’t worry about it, buddy. I get it. You’re in need, too. It’s cool.” He moved a few steps off, which felt like a relief. Then he turned and waved at me. “Be cool,” he said.

I stood there watching him go, thinking, Does anybody really say “cool” anymore? Well, one person still did, anyway.

I sat down in the sand again.

I people-watched until nobody seemed interesting. Or until everybody seemed equally interesting, which made them uninteresting. Then I read a book on my phone until I started worrying about running the battery down.

I got up and bought a falafel from a storefront shop, and ate it standing up so I couldn’t get sand in it.

Then I sat on the beach again.

I was feeling more than a little bit adrift.

My mind went back to Tim in that moment. Was he somewhere nearby, enjoying his new life in California with our shared funds? Was he seeing someone new? Would I ever wrap my mind around what went wrong with him? Would the part of me that had driven him away, the failing I had yet to identify, ruin my next attempt at love as well?