“I’m brave.”
I look back, but before I do, I already know he’s clutching that whistle again. He slept with it in his hand since I wouldn’t let him wear it around his neck to sleep in case it tangled around his throat during the night.
“You are brave. Even without that whistle,” I say gently, starting to pedal. “I don’t want you to think that the whistleis what’s doing it. It’s your brave heart that makes you courageous.”
Zack chews on that word a little. “Courgous,” he finally attempts, rhyming it with gorgeous.
“Courageous. Full of courage!”
“Courage-us.”
“Better.”
“Is Mercer courgous?” He reverts to his first version, making it sound like “gorgeous.”
Mercer is kind of gorgeous, isn’t he? I mean, for being the first kraken I’ve ever seen. Heck, any man I’ve ever seen. I didn’t really care about it at the time, of course, but upon reflection, wow. Gorgeous. And “courgous.” I smile to myself and answer, “Yes, I think lifeguards are very courageous. They have to react fast and think of others first. They have to know all kinds of medical and safety stuff.”
“Could I be one? When I’m big?”
“You could. I would be proud of you for picking a job like that. But I’d also be proud of you for picking any job that you do well, that you give your best.”
“But I can’t be a dog, right?”
I let out a single blast of a laugh. This kid. I never know what he’ll say, and even though I usually think of Zack as purely sweet, smart, and silly, sometimes he makes me laugh like no one else. “No, buddy. You can’t be a dog. You could be a vet andtake careof dogs. You could be an animal trainer and train dogs. You could groom them.”
“Why do they put the dogs on trains?”
Another snicker as I ride my bike along the quiet street, loving the lack of traffic and the simple, homey scenery, a blend of small towns, green lawns, and trees. “No, to train is a fancy word for teaching, but it’s a little different.”
“Can we go on a train?”
“We can. Someday. Okay, here we go. Oh, look, Mr. Mercer is already waiting for us.”
My son runs to the big blue-green beast. And I’m usingbeastin the best way. When my brain is not in an utter panic, I have time to reflect on the size of Mercer. The sheer bulk of his tentacles as they weave around him, the width of his shoulders, and how thick the muscles on his arms are. He’s an odd combination of huge and lithe. Alien. Monster.
Gorgeous.
And courageous. I smother a smile at the memory of Zack’s conversation about the helpful lifeguard and melt when Zack runs, including a single little happy hop, to his arms, and Mercer scoops him up with one tentacle, then drops him into his arms with a look of pure affection that I’ve never seen my son experience. Even my father, God bless him, always has a little touch of sadness in his eyes when Zack runs to him. Oh, it goes away fast, but it’s like my dad knows that he’s stepping in, filling in for Eli, and that Zack deserves to have both a father and a grandfather.
I walk over quickly, shaking the thoughts away under the guise of fighting a stiff gust off the lake. Mercer doesn’t know all of my baggage, and he doesn’t need to. I’ll just be happy that he’s kind enough to do this, and be glad that Zack is making a new friend. Maybe if we all stay in this town, Mercer can be a strong, kind, male role model, someone Zack will look up to.
“Good morning. Thank you so much for doing this.” I shake Mercer’s hand and give him a grateful nod, even while I’m somehow picturing Zack as a young adult, walking in cap and gown, with Mercer sitting at his high school graduation beside me.
We’re holding hands, teary-eyed, twin smiles of pride on our faces.
Where the heck did that thought come from? No, not a thought, that was like a vision, like a premonition! Where did it come from? And why is it so clear?
Mercer blinks into the bright sun several times. “It is my pleasure. And it’s on the house, you understand. Gratis. Part of my job is to protect the swimmers of Harmony Glen, and I can think of no better way to protect them than by making effective swimmers out of non-swimmers.”
“I can swim,” Zack protests.
“Then it’s time to learn to swim better. Without the floaties.”
“Oh. The floaties aren’t a thing?” My heart starts pounding as Mercer gently pushes away the yellow armbands I hold out.
“Not today. Not with me holding onto him. I promise you, he’ll be safe.”
“Yeah, Mommy, I’ll be safe.” Zack parrots as he pokes the small, round suction cup-like circles on Mercer’s tentacle.
