Chapter 19

Brookings surprised Charlie. It was much larger than he expected, yet still somehow retained its small-town atmosphere, even when you were standing in line at McDonald's.

"Sorry you missed the Redwoods," Bill was saying at his shoulder. "Didn't want to wake you up. You sure you're hungry?"

Charlie was, actually, but still afraid to trust it. He turned and lifted his bottle of water at Bill, who shook his head.

"What people will pay for these days."

"BUS LOADING! BUS LOADING!"

Charlie walked through the lot and stood at the bus door, occasionally helping someone up, glad to be able to assist the many willing hands that had been passing him to the bathroom all morning. Now that they were on solid ground, again, and he could smell the sea air all around him, it was almost worth it.

The group was staying in the only hotel that sat directly on the beach. Charlie was relieved to see two beds, surprised to see a swimming pool and hot tub, fascinated to stand on the balcony of the room and watch the endless waves.

"I'll sit here," Bill said, "just look out, and listen. Got some memorizing to do." His voice sounded sad, and Charlie thought he could use some privacy.

He walked across the street to a gift shop, where he bought a pair of bathing trunks, on a whim, and a pound of homemade fudge to share with Bill. He wasn't even sure the old man could eat it, but Rocky Road Fudge? He was sure someone on the bus would enjoy it.

Half an hour later, while Bill still sat on the balcony — this time with fudge — Charlie swam lengths in the pool, looking up at each end to make sure the ocean was still there. When he had moved to the hot tub, and found himself looking at it more than at the two young ladies who had joined him, he made a decision. He was going in.

Five minutes later, he stood just out of reach of the incoming waves. It was still only June, but other people were in there. He could see them. He looked around, heard the squeals of a little girl holding her mother's hand, both of them walking in the surf. "I can't get this close," he thought. "I can't get this close and not do it. Dude." He thought of the truckload of college kids and smiled. "You can do this."

He ran headlong into the next wave, kept running for what seemed like forever, on the shifting sand. He figured it must be shifting, because sand did that sort of thing, but he couldn't really feel it anymore. He kept running because he knew if he stopped, his legs would break off in the cold water. He kept running until a wave lifted him up and sat him back down again, a gentle rolling he liked so well that he did it a few more times. Then a wave broke right in front of him, slammed him with the force of a giant under the water, pulled him relentlessly, wouldn't let go. He was sure he was going to die. And then he was lying on the beach, water still trickling around him, looking up at the bus driver. "You might not want to go out so far, next time," he said, helping Charlie to his feet. "I gotta take back as many people as I leave with."

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"You going swimming in the ocean again this morning?" asked Bill over breakfast, and Charlie shook his head. "Think I'll stick to swimming in the pool, wading in the surf."

"Funniest thing I've ever seen," continued the older man, "even though I couldn't see it that well from the balcony. Made me wish I had my binoculars, though."

Charlie picked up another piece of toast. "Shut up, old man."

Bill laughed out loud at that. "Listen, Charlie," he said, and his tone turned serious. Charlie looked at him. "I want to thank you for taking this trip with me. It means a lot. I wonder if you can help me with something?"

"Yeah, of course, Bill."

"I'm happy on the balcony," Bill started. "But watching you plow into that water yesterday…I want to touch it, again. Just get my feet wet in the ocean one last time. I don't walk all that steady anymore, even on concrete. Would you go with me, later this afternoon?"

And that's how Charlie ended up, several hours later, helping Bill balance on a huge driftwood log near the motel, while he knelt and took off Bill's shoes and socks, rolled his pants up almost to the knees. They started toward the water, Charlie carrying a small bag with him. He was glad his hand was at Bill's elbow when he stumbled right away.

"Sorry," he said, "that wasn't my balance. I just wasn't paying attention. I was looking at those boys, over there." Charlie followed his gaze to a pair of children running along the surfline with kites. "Reminded me of my brother and I, for some reason."

Charlie felt a heaviness settle in his chest. "Is he…gone…now?"

Bill looked at him. "Gone? Oh, dead, you mean. No, no. At least I don't think so, not last I heard. Haven't really seen him in twenty years."

"He lives far away?" Charlie asked.

"Not really. Here in Oregon. Just a few hours from Medford."

Charlie didn't say anything, but Bill kept going. "I think we had a fight, once," he said. "Seems to me that it must have been a fight. It's a shame, really." Bill stopped walking, but was still looking out on the water. "I can't even remember what it was about, now. Who was right, who was wrong." He started walking again and Charlie hurried to catch up. "People — families expecially, I think — we throw each other way like it was nothing. Like we can be replaced."

Charlie waited until Bill was standing in the surf, exclaiming at the cold, but with a smile on his face, and seemed to be standing steady. Then he kneeled quickly, took the two baby food jars that he had bought and cleaned earlier out of the bag. He dug them one by one into the sand until a little fell into the jar, then filled them with the incoming surf. He screwed on the lids, stood and held one out to Bill. "Here," he said. "One for you, one for me. So we can take Oregon with us."

Later that afternoon, while Bill slept on the balcony, Charlie made a few calls. Then he sat down at the desk with a sheet of hotel stationery.

Sam and Jenna,

I'm having Bill drop me at the airport in Medford when we go back tomorrow. It's time to go home. I'm sorry not to be able to say goodbye in person. Bill says he'll hand-deliver this letter to you, and I'll call you at the marina from the airport, so you don't worry until he gets there. Anyway, I want to thank you both again for all you've done for me. You'll never even know all you've done for me. I'll be back, you can count on that. I'm including all my contact information. Please stay in touch and let me know how you are. I'll miss you both.

Love, Charlie