Page 27 of The Circle

CHAPTER TWELVE

TODAY. MIDDAY.

“Mister Fortnight, how are you, bro?” My old friend welcomes me into his shop, his New Zealand-sounding accent putting me at ease as always. Something about it just feels… I dunno, friendly. His dark skin and wide, easy smile don’t hurt either. He just projects a sense of… what’s that word that…? Oh. Bonhomie. Think that’s what you call it.

“Oi, William. How are you, mate?”

“Fit as a fiddle, thanks. What can I get you?”

“I need ten more bags of ice.”

“Yeah? Big event it’s going to be then, is it?”

“I mean, bonfires always seem to draw people out. We’re having a bonfire. I told you that, yeah?”

Bonfires are technically forbidden on the beach, but I pulled some strings and got the town council to allow it—after, of course, we agreed to help fund the much-needed rebuilding of the local town hall. We would’ve helped out anyway, but when they said, “If there’s anything we can do for you in return…” I wasn’t going to let the offer slip.

“Indeed, bro. Good times,” William says, giving a polite smile and knowing wink. One of the things I love most about this place: Nobody gives a shit about who we are, what we do, or what we may have done before we got here. There’s a real live-and-let-live vibe that makes it easy not to be an asshole. Which, I have to assume, also explains much of why we want to be here and never want to leave.

“Ten bags of ice,” William repeats, heading into the back cooler. “Anything else?”

“No, I think that’s it for now. You gonna stop by later?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, bro. Not for the world.”

As he steps out of sight, I look after him and catch a glimpse of myself reflected in the mirror he keeps behind the counter. I think about the face looking back at me, the one that I’ve looked at every day of my life. It’s changed, sure. It’s been transformed by time and experience and so many other things, but it is still mine. I’m still me. And that I’ve been able to hold onto to myself and land here, in this place, is nothing short of miraculous.

So, I turn away from the mirror and look around to appreciate where I am. It’s paradise. Truly. Not somewhere I could have ever imagined myself, nor a place I’m sure I deserve to be. Given all the horrible shit I’ve done in my days, I’m not certain this is a fitting world for me to have landed upon. But, then again, I can’t change the past. All I can do is try to be accountable to it and try to be better now and in the future.

And, of course, the most important thing I can actually do is try to be a good—

“Ten bags, ten dollars, please, Mr. Fortnight, sir,” William says, hauling them in on a dolly and rolling them beside me, the condensation dripping off the plastic on the sides and working its way into the weathered wood of the ancient floor.

I slap a twenty down and William puts it in the register, fetching out the change.

“No, no, come on,” I say, waving the change away. “How long we know each other now, bro?”

He puts his hands up, smiles, drops the money back into the register. “Just never want to take anything for granted, Danny. You know.”

Never want to take anything for granted.

Yeah. I do know,I think, looking around once more. I know all too well.