Wake (Bonds We Share #2)

Chapter 8 Kelp & Compost

kelp our fingers brush through thin plastic and I feel it, ridiculous and real. Not the shiver I’d thought I’d ever have over horse poo.

He ties a neat knot. “How’re you doing?”

“Shitty?”

Now he laughs. Laughs!

His eyes skim my face. “Thanks.”

The thanks is softer, like he’s saying thank you for the laugh, not the rest.

We lug the treasure to the tray, he stows the spade, and we climb back in. The front smells like distant pasture. He checks his mirrors; I check his profile. Then we drive back towards the sea.

Wind rocks the truck. The donation bags rustle.

Moana. Tip. Pharmacy.

And back to Grandpa, who lights up at the sight of manure.