“Brian?” His heard his door open and felt Aunt Leslie’s hand on his arm. He was shaking and cold. Ocean mist came in through the door and wet his face and hands. “Brian?”
He opened his eyes to look at her. Uncle Tom stood behind her with some bags in his hands. “Buddy?” Two men in heavy sweaters and denims stood behind him.
Brian sat up, shaking and not wanting to. He nodded and Aunt Leslie handed him her handkerchief. “Here, Brian.”
“Got to get on the ferry now, Buddy. Thought you might want something to eat before we cross.” He offered Brian a bag. “Couple of tuna sandwiches and some milk. Is that alright?”
Brian nodded and took the bag. Tom closed the door then he, Aunt Leslie, and the two men walked to the road’s edge and stared out to the sea.
As tall as Uncle Tom was, the two men were just as tall and twice as broad through the chest and shoulders. Uncle Tom and Aunt Leslie stood between them as if the two men were gateposts at the doorway to a new world, their denim jackets stretched flat on their backs as the two men crossed their arms over their chests.
A moment later the four of them were laughing. Aunt Leslie shook her head, turned and walked back.
None of this made any sense.
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