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“Sorry, I couldn’t help you, then.” The kindness in the stranger’s eyes took Ethan by surprise. He sounded genuinely sorry.
“Thank you, sir.” Ethan picked up his backpack when a large shadow fell in front of him.
“Who are you looking for, kid?” A deep voice surrounded him, the smell of the ocean entering his nostrils. Ethan dropped the backpack and rose, while he turned in the direction of the voice.
“He’s looking for his friend. Some young fella named Matty Craig, but I told him, we only have your Matty around here, Will.” The fisherman shrugged, turning back towards his task.
“How old is your friend?” The newcomer, Will, asked, wiping his hands on his thighs. He, too, wore the classic blue coveralls, covered in oil stains and the fabric worn thin at the knees and elbows. Ethan swallowed audibly as he took in this giant of a man. Bushy gray eyebrows and deep lines running through his forehead, several crow’s feet at the corners of his kind, curious eyes. It wasn’t often that Ethan met someone who was as tall has he was. Dan Bishop and his four boys always stood out in Eden, Ethan always being the tallest boy in middle school and in high school, too.
“Same age as me, sir. Nineteen. Well, nineteen come October, sir.” Was he still only just nineteen? He felt so much older—as if he’d matured during these few weeks on the road with Avery. He suddenly felt the fatigue in his bones, the weariness catching up with him. The dullthump, thump, thumpin his heart ever since he’d left Boston.
“Nineteen? Is that so? And what did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t but it’s Ethan. Ethan Bishop. I’ve come all the way from Eden, Texas looking for my friend.”
“That’s a long way, kid,” the other fisherman interrupted. “Heck of a long way.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t fathom that anyone in their right mind would drive across the country to end up in Grant’s Harbor. Well, he had obviously never been to Eden.
“It sure is. I made some stops on the way though…” Ethan trailed off.
“Why have you come looking for him here, then?” Will asked, squinting his eyes at Ethan. The question wasn’t exactly accusing but Ethan still wondered how much he should reveal to these strangers.
“He always wanted to go to the sea. He wanted a boat.Stella. Someone told me that I’d maybe find him here.” Jesus, he felt weird telling these two rough-looking men that he’d driven all the way to Maine all because of a promise, a map, and a blank postcard.
“Stella…? But isn’t that…”
“Hush, Smitty,” the fisherman, Will, boomed. “Yeah, we have a Matty around here.”
“Yeah, I know.” Ethan nodded at the guy named Smitty. “He told me. But it isn’t my Matty.” There was a defeated ring to his voice as Ethan’s shoulders slumped forward in resignation.
“What does your Matty look like, then?” Will tilted his head in question.
“Well, I haven’t seen him for three years, so I guess he’s changed a lot.” He hesitated briefly, murmuring, mostly to himself. “I know I have.” As soon as Ethan had spoken the words, he realized that they were true. He had changed. A lot.
“Three years, huh?” Will brushed at his wild beard, contemplating something.
“Yes. I couldn’t come any sooner. Left right after graduation. Drove all the way here. Past all the small towns along the coast.”
“Yeah, there are plenty, alright,” Will nodded.
“But Will…” The guy named Smitty looked at Will, a puzzled frown between his dark brows. Ignoring him, Will’s gaze penetrated Ethan’s, before he continued.
“So, what does he look like then, your Matty?”
Ethan exhaled deeply, his mind suddenly blank. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten what Matty looked like but how did you describe someone who was the best person in the world to a stranger? How did you describe someone who’d been your everything, your ride or die since the age of six? He sighed.
“He’s your average guy, I guess. Blond hair that’s always messy. Sky-blue eyes that are mostly curious and kind. Eyes as blue as the vast Texas sky in mid-July. Scrawny looking kid. Well, at least he was back then. Knows a great deal about bugs, actually. Loves the little fuckers… sorry, sir. He can go on and on about them…” Ethan trailed off, his eyes suddenly burning, his fingers pulling at the hem of his t-shirt. Well, Avery’s t-shirt, actually…
“Yeah, he sounds about right, doesn’t he Smitty? Well, except he’s not so scrawny anymore. That’s life on the water for ya. Toughens up even the frailest of men, ain’t that right, Smitty?” Will grinned at his friend.
“Sure is right, Will,” Smitty repeated, nodding in solemn agreement. Ethan stared between the two of them, his mind buzzing.
“I’m sorry, sir… I don’t think I understand…”
“Yeah, I bet you don’t, kid. You see, your Matty is my Matty. Well, that ain’t exactly true anymore, either. He’s kinda Austin’s Matty now,” Will spoke, a wistful look in his pale eyes.
“You know him?” Disbelief and a small spark of hope coursed through Ethan.
“I do. I’ve known him since the little shit walked into town nearly three years ago and asked me for a job. Pretty persistent, I must say,” Will grinned, fondness painted across his face. Ethan couldn’t help grinning, too.
