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“This was my brother’s favorite place,” he finally says after several long minutes of silence. His voice is deep and hoarse, giving away the emotion in it.
“I know,” I say, a slight shake to my words. My focus still on the water as it finally reaches my feet, covering my toes before it’s sucked back again.
“Did he ever tell you why?” he asks, his gaze meeting mine for the briefest moment before turning forward again, continuing without waiting for my reply. “He almost drowned here. In that very spot.” He points to somewhere off in the distance. “He was thirteen at the time and had only been surfing a couple of months. He was trying to show off for some girls that were at least three or four years older than him. He got too cocky and tried to tackle a wave he had no business being on. Ended up wiping out and got stuck in the current. He was under for a good minute or two before he finally resurfaced.”
“And that’s why this was his favorite place?” I question.
“Said it was the one place that reminded him of how quickly everything can be taken away. That even though we think we’re in control, we never truly are.”
His words hit like a hammer to my heart. It’s something Kam said to me on more than one occasion–knowing how badly I crave control. Hearing it repeated by Kane only intensifies the ache in my chest.
“It was two solid years before he got on a board again after that,” he continues when I make no attempt to comment.
“He never told me that story,” I say, managing to push past the lump in my throat.
“Not surprising. He hated telling that story.” He shakes his head, kicking at the sand below his feet.
“What made him get back on it?” I ask, wanting to keep him talking.
If I close my eyes and listen, I can almost hear Kam’s voice instead of Kane’s. The two are so very similar in that way. Selfishly, that’s all I really want—for him to be his brother. For Kamden to still be here with me.
“You did.” He picks up a handful of sand, watching it slide through his fingers.
“Me?” I question.
“The summer he met you was the summer he started surfing again. He never said it outright but I know it was because of you. You challenged him. You made it impossible for him to be afraid. He really loved you. I hope you know that.”
“I really loved him.” I swipe at the tear that falls down my cheek.
Twenty minutes ago I didn’t think I was capable of crying more tears, yet here I am, welling up again like a still open wound that won’t scab over.
“I can’t believe he’s gone.” He says it like he still hasn’t fully processed the truth neither of us wants to accept.
“Neither can I.” It’s all I can manage to say. There are no words, nothing that will offer him or myself even one ounce of comfort. So instead I sit in silence. I sit next to a man I do not know and selfishly take comfort in knowing that for just this one moment, I’m not alone.
He was his brother after all–someone who knew Kam his entire life, someone who grew up right alongside him. If anyone understands the loss and grief I feel it’s Kane. And even though I’m responsible for that loss, I don’t have it in me to deny myself the smallest sense of comfort by having him next to me.
He’s not Kamden. He will never be Kamden. I know that. But for just a moment I let myself pretend he is. I look out over the horizon and envision that it’s Kam next to me. I pretend that it’s just another dreary summer day like ones we’ve seen so many times before. That nothing has changed.
I live in that moment–embracing it–because I know once it’s over I’ll never get it back. I’ll never get Kamden back. I’ll never get to see his smile or hear his laugh. I’ll never get to feel the warmth of his embrace or smell the salty scent of the ocean that always clung to his skin. I’ll never get to look into those hazel eyes again, the blue and green speckles I used to make a habit of trying to count are lost from me forever.
A second tear trickles down my cheek, followed by another, but I refuse to look at Kane. I refuse to acknowledge that he’s not who I want him to be, who I need him to be. I keep my focus locked on the setting sun, wishing I could disappear over the horizon along with it.
