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It’s now 11:30 p.m., and there’s still no sign of Samuel.
Saxon is sitting calmly in the rocking chair, sipping his beer, while I’m pacing the deck, about certain I’ve worn a hole in the ground. Everyone has decided to be unreachable tonight, as I haven’t been able to get a hold of anyone. Perhaps they’re all trying to give us our space, but little do they know how much space is literally between us, seeing as I have no idea where Sam is.
“Should we call the police?” I ask for the tenth time.
“And tell them what? He’s a grown man,” Saxon responds, the same reply as five minutes ago.
“He’s a grown man with amnesia,” I correct, mid-pace. “I bet if I told them that they’d see how important this is.”
Saxon doesn’t reply.
I’m riddled with guilt for playing those stupid movies. It was too much, too fast. It was too overwhelming. Saxon said so himself. Sam feels as if he’s drowning. And what do I do—throw him in the deep end.
“What do you do for work?”
I stop pacing and turn to look at Saxon, confused. “What?”
He smirks, a laidback, carefree smile as he rocks in his chair. “You said you were over in Bali for work. What do you do?”
Is he really trying to make conversation? When he continues staring at me, waiting for a response, I know the answer is yes. “Human aid,” I reply. “Well, I actually graduated with a masters in human rights. I work for PFP—People for People. My role is to advise on human rights and enforce international humanitarian law and protection of civilians.”
“In English, please,” Saxon teases, sipping his beer.
Looking at the empty chair next to him, I give in. Taking a seat, I explain, “For my internship, I went to Ghana. I also went to Sudan for six weeks. My experiences have given me knowledge of the history of conflicts, and those presently arising within African countries. The time away was remarkable, as I met so many wonderful people. I made friends with many international militaries and UN peacekeeping operators. PFP works alongside WFP. WFP is the largest humanitarian agency fighting hunger worldwide. In a year, we reach ninety million people with food assistance in eighty countries. It’s unbelievable.”
When Saxon nods, remaining mute and picking at the label on his beer, I figure I’m probably boring him to death. I know Sam could only take so much before the subject was changed. “Sorry to bore you.” I tuck my leg beneath me, rocking gently on the wooden chair.
But Saxon surprises me as he shakes his head. “You’re not. I’m happy to hear you’ve stuck to what you love.”
I purse my lips, not following.
“When you were like sixteen,” he says, as if recalling the memory, “you kept talking about the Japanese hunting whales. You gave me that flyer with all that gruesome shit they do. Made me turn vegetarian for a month. I always thought I’d see you on the news, hijacking one of those ships. Looks like I wasn’t too far off the mark.” He smirks playfully.
“I can’t believe you remember that,” I disclose, unable to keep the surprise from my voice. Thanks to Sam’s temper tantrums, and being stuck at the hospital for hours, Saxon and I haven’t really had the chance to have normal a conversation.
“Yeah, I do. I remember a lot of things.” He scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. Did he reveal something he wasn’t supposed to?
“I remember too.” I want him to know that even though we didn’t share many moments together growing up, I recall fondly the few times we did. “I remember the time you took the blame for drinking your mom’s last Diet Coke.”
He chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “Never mess with Kellie’s Diet Cokes.”
“I’d just started dating Sam and I didn’t know the protocols. Who knew she felt so passionately about soda.” Saxon’s gruff laugh shoots a tingle down my spine. “I don’t think I ever thanked you properly.”
“It’s fine.” He waves me off. “Annoying her is a favorite pastime of mine, so it’s my pleasure.”
Talks of Kellie give me the in I’ve been looking for. “Has she always been…”
“A bitch?” He fills in the blanks while I bite my lip. “Yes, she has. I learned early on that Samuel was the favorite. He was always the obedient one, while I—” he pauses, gauging the right word to use “—I’ve just been me. Too bad that was never good enough for Kellie.”
I suddenly feel sorry for him, but I don’t let it show, as I know that’s not the reason why he shared this snippet of information with me. “I’m sorry I was so…absorbed with Sam,” I settle with, thinking back to the video of Sam’s basketball finals. I didn’t even acknowledge his presence.
The twenty-six-year-old me is kicking my seventeen-year-old butt.
“Don’t worry about it. You were in love,” he quips, drawing out the word love. But I sense he’s hiding beneath his humor.
“Maybe we can make up for lost time now?” I suggest, nervously tugging at the loose strands of my hair draped over my shoulder. I have no idea why I’m so nervy, so I stop fiddling.
