My head itched, too. I knew I was just being paranoid, but I wanted a shower. I was hungry and wasn’t about to touch food until I had one.
I drove for eight hours. Not what I had planned on doing at all. I was so hungry I almost perished. I drove all the way to Point Harbor. All I needed to do was take the ferry to I-165, and I would be at my mother’s. I got a room at a rather expensive hotel. There was no reason for it to be that expensive, except for the fact that it was a tourist trap. I knew I didn’t need to be concerned with a hundred and seventy five dollars. I could drop that all day long and never put a dent in how much money I had. That part would probably never change. When you grow up on dented cans of donated baked beans, you tend to ration a little.
I used lots of antibacterial soap and washed the nastiness away from the tin. I smiled remembering the scene on the top and around the sides. I had sat on the couch with Justin when he was probably three or so. We were alone and trying to stay warm. We sat on the couch
and ate the stale cookies as we observed the Norman Rockwell painting.
“And we’ll live in this house, and play in the barn, and walk along the dirt road by the stream.”
“And go pishen in dat pond,” Justin explained, pointing his little finger to the painted pond.
I smiled running my fingers over the scene, the scene that his little fingers had touched. I could hear his little voice as plain as day. God, I missed that little man. I still hadn’t opened the tin, and decided to shower and find some food before I really did perish.
I walked along the sidewalks and tourist trap vendors. I laughed when I saw the abundant amount of jewelry hanging from hooks from one of the street vendors. It was necklaces, bracelets, key chains, you name it, and anything that could be hung from a chain, this guy had it.
“Would you like a cheap piece of history,” the guy asked.
“History?” I smirked.
“The finest sea glass around,” he smiled.
I couldn’t help myself. I had to do it. “Buddy, there is not one thing here that is real sea glass.”
His expression changed. He knew that I knew my shit. “Well, it was found on the beach,” he assured me.
“Yeah, from a spring break party maybe,” I replied, and kept walking. I heard him ask the next na?ve lady the same question. I looked over my shoulder and smiled, shaking my head when the lady pulled out her wallet.
Stupid lady.
I had the best shrimp and lobster I had ever had in my life, sitting at a quay restaurant. I loved the ocean. I decided at that moment, wherever I ended up, it was going to be by the ocean. The ocean and I had become friends.
We had an understanding, a bond that in some way counseled me. The sea was full of emotion. The ocean knew my moods. It could hate, love, it knew my dreams, my fears, my happiness. I told the ocean more secrets than I had ever told anyone in my life, without a word spoken, and it understood.
It was still pretty early, and I wasn’t tired at all. I should have been after the long drive and the roller coaster ride from going back to my old roots, maybe I was tired and had too much on my mind to relax. I still hadn’t opened my time capsule. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting on. I knew there wasn’t anything worth a damn in it. I still couldn’t believe that neither one of my men had called to check on me. I hadn’t talked to either one of them in two days.
I had to pry the tin lid off because it was so rusted around the edges. I broke a nail in the process. That pissed me off.
Mother fucker…
The first thing I saw brought a happy smile to my face. It was a faded green Christmas tree, cut from construction paper. Justin made it in kindergarten. It didn’t say, I love mommy, or I love daddy. It said I love my sissy. I held my finger through the red piece of yarn. I then took out the love letter from Polecat. That wasn’t his real name. His real name was Billy Sweeny. It seemed like everyone in the hills had a stupid nick name. It was dumb.
I used to think that I was in love with Polecat. He was a tough guy, always in fights and drinking beer. He had gotten his first amateur tattoo when he was only thirteen.