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“Silas had nothing but praise for you. He texted me at least five times to let me know you were doing great.”
She doesn’t say anything, but it’s hard to miss the flash of pride. She starts to speak but thinks better of it and gets lost in the view again.
“Here’s Nick, and he’s got the tow truck.” Not seeing much other than his truck, I search the shoreline looking for him. It’s not hard to find him. There between the tufts of beach grass and the ice plant, Nick is hard at work pulling the Bug out of the dunes, multiple scarves blowing in the wind. The guy really does love his scarves.
“He doesn’t waste any time, does he?’
I park the truck and kill the engine. “I told you got excited about these things. I could barely contain the guy on the phone. I’m surprised he waited at all.”
Once out of the truck, she follows me over the dunes, leaving the highway behind us. I can’t ignore the worried glances she casts over her shoulder at the highway. Maybe she’s concerned whoever followed her is going to come back just as we pull the car off the dunes, and they’ll spot her.
“Once we get the car out, stay on the beach with your trunk. I’ll take care of everything up by the highway.”
I feel like we’re playing this game where I pretend I don’t know she’s running, and she pretends that her life is normal, and then every now and then we have to pull her Bug from the sand dunes and we hit pause on everything to deal with reality.
A flash of concern crosses her expression, but she nods, whispering, “Thank you.”
We draw closer and Sunny gets her first real look at my friend Nick. Maybe I should have said something earlier.
“He’s…” she tilts her head and thinks about her answer, “the fanciest mechanic I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah, Nick’s a free spirit.” I reach back to help her over a piece of driftwood, but Sunny has already started to climb over it.
“Does he always wear that many bracelets?”
I snicker, wondering what she must think of my bohemian friend. With his shoulder-length hair pulled mostly back in a stubby ponytail, a bushy beard he doesn’t believe in trimming, and what I count as six sheer scarves of different earth tones flying off his neck, I suppose he’s not what I would think of when I think of a mechanic. Drawing close enough, I steal one last glance at Sunny seeing Nick in all his glory. Her skepticism doesn’t disappoint. It’s like she can’t believe it.
“Rhett, this is a real beauty.” Nick’s arms wave more when he’s excited, and standing next to that wrecked car, he looks like he’s flagging down an airplane. “This is a sixty-seven, with a luggage rack and everything.”
“It was smoking yesterday. I don’t suppose that’s an issue?” Sunny cocks an eyebrow to match her blatant sarcasm, but Nick doesn’t skip a beat.
“That’s minor stuff. These models have lots of parts to choose from. I’ll have it up and running in no time.” He shrugs his shoulders, trying to look like he’s not bursting out of his skin. “I don’t suppose you’d sell it, Miss…” He looks to me for an introduction.
“Sorry, Nick this is Sunny Clarkson. Sunny, meet Nick Kimura.”
Sunny doesn’t make a move to shake his hand or try anything resembling social interaction. “Nick, if you can get this thing off the dunes, it’s yours.”
Nick’s smile spreads wider, as if that’s possible, and he winks. “You’ve got a deal, my friend.”
It’s not as easy as it looks and once or twice Nick comments on how deep it’s been buried in the sand. At one point he says, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you caught some air coming down here.”
If I hadn’t been on the side closest to Sunny, I never would have heard her say, “Four feet, but who’s counting?” As it is, I’m doing my best not to laugh. She catches me and starts to laugh to herself as well.
I have no doubt that the tide rose high enough to help to bury it even deeper. The light blue paint, though chipped and scratched yesterday, looks even older today. The ocean has a way of wearing things down in a hurry. Saltwater doesn’t take hostages. It causes destruction without a second thought. Thankfully, her trunk only moved ten feet away from her wrecked car. If we’d left it longer, I’m sure the sea would have staked its claim. Padlock securely in place, she hasn’t lost anything, but that’s not to say it wasn’t damaged. I hope whatever she’s hiding inside weathered the rise in water level.
After twenty minutes of struggling and fighting, Nick gets it right with his tow truck. While he’s getting the last of it, I leave to fetch Sunny’s trunk. I find her nearby, sitting in the sand, watching the sunset. I mean to say something, but every part of her screams that she wants to be left to her thoughts. I know the feeling, and I’m willing to oblige. Hefting the trunk on my shoulder, I carry it up the hill and set it by my truck. Nick is finishing up, still beaming when I return to see if he needs anything else.
Like a proud father, he pats the rear light. “Just wait, she’s gonna be gorgeous.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Cars fly by at regular intervals, most slowing to watch the sun’s descent over the ocean’s horizon. Stepping closer, I lower my voice, speaking to Nick. “Look, if someone comes around asking about it, tell them I had you take if off the dunes somewhere. Leave Sunny out of it.”
Fear sparks in my friend’s eyes. “Rhett, you said this was a clean deal. You said she owns it outright. If this car is hot—”
“She owns it.” I stop him before he has a chance to fully freak out. “She just doesn’t want to be found.”
His eyes narrow, weighing the possible risks. “You’re still saving people, huh? You remember the whole raccoon incident, right?” His hands come up to his face, mimicking fighting a creature off of him. “Don’t eat me, don’t eat me!” Pulling his hands down, he grins. “I mean, at least she’s cuter than the raccoon.”
“That’s not a high bar, man.”
