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“Cole?” I start as if to follow him.
He doesn’t even look back at me. He just waves a hand in my direction.
“Wait for my text!”
I watch as he hops in his silver Mercedes and pulls off with a screech.
What the hell just happened? Did I push his buttons?
Or did I potentially just ruin my job?
Shaking with more than from just the cold air, I head to my mom’s car.
9
Cole
It’s unseasonably nice outside. Though it is overcast, temperatures are in the lower fifties. And I’ve let River drag me and Charlie down to downtown Cape Simon for some sort of festival. Charlie is raring to get out of the car and be set loose.
“Slow down,” River warns me, sticking a hand into the front seat to get my attention.
I glance at him in the rearview mirror. I see his worried gray eyes, and his short, dark, slicked-back hair. He wears a black motorcycle jacket, and black jeans, and looks like Cool Hand Luke riding in the backseat of my Mercedes.
“I’m perfectly capable of seeing that there is traffic coming up.” I swat at his hand and make a face. “Stay in the back seat.”
Charlie bursts into a fit of giggles. “Daddy, you’re being a silly-billy.”
River relaxes. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I see him turn to Charlie and tickle him savagely.
“I’ll show you silly-billy,” River says, his tone gleeful.
“Daddy! Daddy, help!” Charlie shrieks, dying of laughter. “Aaaah! Uncle River!!”
I smile and ease us into a line of cars that are waiting to turn right into the downtown area of Cape Simon. As soon as I make the turn, I see that other cars are parked on either side of the road. Pulling off to the right, I park in the only free spot near some scrub brush.
“Okay, boys. We’re going to have to hoof it a few blocks.”
I climb out of the car and my passengers do the same. River stretches and then makes sure Charlie takes his hand.
“The town started throwing the Red Rice Revel a few years ago. Since then, the festival has exploded,” my brother tells us both.
As if to punctuate his point, a gaggle of kids walk by. Each one of them is wearing a white Red Rice Revel T-shirt with an orange-red cartoon mascot on the front. It’s a single grain of red rice that’s grinning and giving a thumbs up. I think it’s ridiculous. But Charlie will probably want one.
We start to walk the few blocks to downtown. More and more people pack in around us. I take Charlie’s hand protectively, and gape at the growing throng.
“This has to be half of Savannah! And some people from Charleston, too,” I say.
“Yep.” River wiggles his eyebrows at me. “People love red rice, I guess.”
We step into the packed main street area. People are clustered at booths that are stationed up and down the street from here, and down the three blocks that lead to the lighthouse. A huge banner hanging from the lighthouse reads ‘Red Rice Revel.’ There are matching red and black flags hanging from every lamp post, and street sign, and strung in zigzags between the two sides of the street.
It’s louder here. I squeeze Charlie’s hand and look down. He grins at me, his deep blue eyes set off by his yellow parka.
“Cool!” he exclaims. “Lotsa people!”
River starts pulling Charlie toward the closest stand, which has a line of people waiting patiently. Under a small tent, two older Black women serve up scoops of red rice into paper bowls.
“That smells amazing,” River says. “Charlie, do you smell that?”
