“You ever kayak out here before?” he calls.
The man on the bench glances up, mildly interested, then goes back to his paper when he realizes the question wasn’t meant for him. I cross the grass quickly, trying to think if there’s a way out of this. I’m all for the beach and admiring the rocks, but kayaking through them is miles beyond my comfort zone. And it doesn’t seem like something he should be doing either, with everything—it seems risky.
“Have you?” he asks with a smile. Then, without waiting for an answer, he reaches inside, pulls out a life jacket, and hands it to me.
I shake my head. “No . . . and I don’t . . . I’ve actually never kayaked anywhere before, so I don’t think . . . This doesn’t seem like a good place to start. You know, for a beginner. All those rocks . . .” Now, in my mind, they’re all jagged edges and crashing waves.
“It’s actually a great place,” he says. “Pretty protected. We do a lot of tours down here.” He pauses with a smile. “It’s where I learned.”
“Really?” It comes out sounding like maybe I don’t believe him, but I do. And I realize I want to know more—about him, and who he is. In his own words, not Shelby’s. I can see it on his face that this is a big part of it.
“Yeah,” he says. “When I was six, my mom finally let my dad take me out here with him.” Eight years before you got sick, I fill in. Eight years before it all started, and you went to the doctor because your mom thought you had the flu. I feel guilty for knowing a part of his life that he doesn’t realize I do, but that’s not what he’s thinking about right now. I try not to either. I try to be here, now, with this Colton instead of the sick one I feel like I know so well.
He shakes his head, laughs at the memory. “I’d begged my mom to let me for so long, and then when she said yes, we got here and I looked over the cliff, and I got the same exact look you did a second ago.” He pauses. “I tried every excuse to get out of it, but my dad just slapped a life jacket on me, gave me the paddles to carry, and hauled the kayak down the stairs without saying anything. When we got to the bottom, he put me in the seat, and when he kneeled down in front of me and said, ‘You trust your old man, right?’ and I was so scared I just nodded. Then he said, ‘Good. Do what I tell you, when I tell you, and the worst thing that’ll happen is you’ll fall in love.”
I laugh nervously, try to look anywhere but at him, but it doesn’t work.
Colton pauses, smiles at me with those eyes, and then looks out over the water. “With the ocean, is what he meant, that I’d take after him and want to be in it all the time, one way or another.” He looks back at me. “He was right. Couldn’t keep me on the shore after that day.”
I know this is a version of the truth, and it’s the one he’s letting me know. But I also know about the years when he was sick, times that did keep him on the shore, and in and out of the doctor’s offices and the hospital. Part of me wishes I could ask him about it, but the other part doesn’t want to think of him that way.
“I don’t really have anything like that,” I say. Anymore, I finish in my head. I see a flash of dirt road, Trent’s shoes, the two of us matching step for step, breath for breath, and guilt twists in me. “My sister and I used to run together, but she’s been gone at school, so I don’t really do it without her.” It’s the version of the truth I can let him know.
“That’s too bad,” Colton says. He looks like he’s about to ask a question again but thinks better of it. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been out here, but there’s this cool place my dad showed me that I’ve been wanting to see again. It’s a little tricky to get to, but worth it. You wanna try?”
I don’t answer for a moment. Taking a kayak into the ocean truly scares me, but I trust him in a way that’s so easy, it’s almost scarier. I look away quickly, out over the edge of the bluff, down to the water swirling over the rocks, which is exactly what my stomach feels like.
“Okay. Let’s try it.” I don’t sound very convincing.
Colton works to keep a straight face, but a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You sure?”
I nod.
“You seem scared. Don’t be scared. Just do what I tell you, when I tell you, and you’ll be fine.” He pauses and lets the smile creep slowly over his face, and though he doesn’t say anything else, I can feel the rest of his dad’s words swirl around in the breeze that picks up between us right then.
Colton grabs more gear out of his bus, and before I have a chance to answer, or change my mind or think things through, I’ve got the lifejacket on over my bathing suit, Colton is wearing a rash guard with his trunks, and we’re lugging the kayak down the cement stairs to the pebbly beach. We’re both a little out of breath as he pulls it to the waterline and gestures for me to sit in the front seat. I do, and he hands me a paddle. “You ready?”
“Right now? Don’t I need a lesson or something first?”
Colton looks entertained. “This is the lesson. It’s easiest to show you in the water. It’s pretty small, so just get in and I’ll paddle us out there. Then I’ll show you. Sound good?” He smiles down at me, and I muster all the confidence I can to answer.
“Yep,” I manage, but my heart pounds out steady worry in my chest as a wave breaks over the rocks in front of us, rolling them up the beach with a low shush. This is actually happening.