The Young Men and the Sea
ANTHONY HAD brought a small set of field glasses with him—one of those fun little man-tools, along with a Leatherman and a multiuse flashlight that was insanely versatile and would last something like five hundred hours on one charge.
He, Reg, and the boys stood on a mild promontory overlooking the dock at the neck of Tillamook Bay and surveyed the small town.
“Do you see them?” Reg asked.
Anthony grimaced and sucked air in through his teeth. “We’re too far away,” he said. “I say we hike into town like we own the place, find a dockside hotel, and come back tomorrow for the car. Thoughts?”
“Hotel,” the boys groaned, and Anthony didn’t blame them. By his estimate, they’d been hiking for a good five miles, and sunset was drawing near. It was getting cold, and while they had denim jackets over their hoodies, that wasn’t going to cut it out here.
“Okay, then,” Anthony said, swinging his pack over his shoulders again. “Here, Reg, give me the tote back. Ilia, Reynaldo, you guys can switch.”
“I’ll keep it,” Ilia said mildly. He was the bigger and stronger of the two boys, and Anthony appreciated how he didn’t lord it over Reynaldo.
“I’m not five,” Reynaldo said with dignity.
“No, but you are cute,” Ilia told him with a pale smile. “Let me try to impress you, since it is my uncle who wants to kill us all.”
Reynaldo gave a game shrug. “Well, if you put it that way….” His own smile was a little warmer, and Anthony really hoped there would be a safe harbor for these boys.
He couldn’t think of two kids who deserved it more. But then, didn’t every kid deserve to be safe?
Anthony passed around his canteen, which he’d kept filled, and they all took a swig, and then everybody had a piece of first-rate cheese. It wasn’t a five-star meal, but it was enough.
Another breath and they were trudging along the sandy path toward the town. Reg had pulled out Anthony’s phone and was searching for a reasonable hotel.
Neither of them said anything about Reg’s encryption holding—they were perilously close to going completely off the grid.
THE HOTEL Reg found—another one that took cash—wasn’t as cute as the little cottages in Crescent City.
It had one king-size bed and some… questionable bedding.
Reg sent Anthony and Ilia out for food while he and Reynaldo made a thorough inspection for bedbugs—which they didn’t find, thank God—and to turn the sheets and pillowcases inside out.
“Who will get the bed?” Reynaldo asked, sounding too tired to care.
“You and Ilia, and maybe Anthony if there’s room.”
Reynaldo shrugged. “There is room for all four of us,” he said. “In my father’s villa, there were so many of us, we all shared twin beds. It will be fine. That way, we can all sleep well, and you two will be ready to pretend to know what you’re doing some more tomorrow.”
Reg clutched his chest in mock pain. “Ouch!” he protested. “Are we that bad?”
Reynaldo gave him a pitying glance. “You are both very good people,” he said.
“But I think nobody knows what to do when the world suddenly goes upside down. You both keep trying to keep us happy, to make us laugh, and to make us feel like the world isn’t falling apart.
And we keep pretending to believe it. I didn’t say I wanted things to change.
Just know that this keeping things like a big adventure—we know it is a kindness, Mr. Royal. You should know we appreciate it.”
Reg suddenly felt a thousand years old. He sank onto the recently turned sheets and tried not to let himself fall apart.
“It’s so awful,” he whispered. “None of this should be happening. There should be somebody—somebody—safe to take you boys to. But we all know that right now there is no safety for the two of you. I’m…
I mean, I protested and voted. My family all own businesses.
We weren’t silent while this was happening.
But now it’s hurting you guys, and all we can do is charge off into the wild blue yonder and take you with us. ”
“Isn’t that what good guys do?” Reynaldo said, yawning. “I mean, I love movies, Mr. Royal, but real good guys, they put you in the back of their cars and say, ‘Let’s go, boys, guns are bad.’”
Reg had to chuckle. “Now who’s trying to make it sound like an adventure.”
Reynaldo shrugged. “I was smuggled into California in a body-sized compartment on the bottom of a Greyhound bus,” he said, surprising Reg badly.
“It was a thousand degrees. I had heat exhaustion by the time Aunt Adelle got me, and believe me, if my dad hadn’t been Gael Barrera, she would have been charged her entire salary before they let me even see daylight.
I don’t remember much for the first week, but I remember when I woke up in my own bed, and I didn’t smell exhaust anymore, and there was cool air and all the clean water I could drink—I cried.
This? This is an adventure. That was a miserable fucking experience if you don’t mind me saying so.
You’re like my papa. On the one hand, shipping his gay kid off to a hostile country seems like a cop-out move.
On the other hand, he was trying to save my life.
Sometimes you got shit for options, you know? ”
Reg nodded. “I know,” he murmured.
Reynaldo yawned again. “I’m going to curl up in bed and sleep now,” he said. “I’ll shower in the morning and eat my food in the middle of the night. Don’t fuss.”
“I won’t,” Reg said, thinking that as plans went, that didn’t sound bad.
Instead he showered and rinsed out his socks and underwear in the sink, then hung them up to dry on the heat register. He had a few more pairs, but who knew how long they’d all have to last?
It was that thought—that thought there—that hit him hard.
Who knew how long this thing would last? It was one thing when they were in a car headed for the Canadian border, but right now? No car, one phone? They were dangling farther and farther off a precipice, and their only recourse was to keep laying low.
When Anthony and Ilia came in, carrying subs and sodas, he was sitting on the edge of the bed trying not to have a panic attack.
Ilia ignored him, took one glance at the sleeping Reynaldo, and smiled tiredly. “He’s got the right idea,” he murmured. “I’ll take my shower first, though, and eat.”
Anthony yawned. “I’ll eat while you’re cleaning up,” he said, and Ilia grabbed his knapsack and went into the bathroom while Anthony came to sit next to Reg on the bed.
“Whatcha thinking?” he asked softly.
“That I’m really scared,” Reg answered without hesitation. If there was anybody he could tell this to, it was the man by his side.
“Good,” Anthony said softly, draping his arm over Reg’s shoulders. “We may give you shit for worrying, Reg, but your worry is going to keep us safe. You got any worrying to do while we sleep here tonight?”
Reg grimaced, because he’d been thinking about this exactly.
“Yeah,” he said. “We have everything packed before we go to sleep, including the food. We set the chair up under the doorknob like we did last night, and we take a look at the bathroom window. It’s wide enough to fit all of us, even if we have to wiggle through, but we should pop it out of its frame first so we can access it easily.
” He paused. “And rinse out your underwear and dry them on the heat register. We’re going to start to run out of clothes in a couple of days. ”
Anthony grinned at him. “My God, you never disappoint.”
His mouth on Reg’s wasn’t going to seduce him there on the crappy hotel bed, with the kids right there and danger around every corner, but as Reg fell into the kiss, he realized that sometimes a kiss was safety and kindness and human connection.
Sometimes human connection was all you needed to keep the world from spinning so fast it threw you off into space.
ONE MINUTE Anthony was asleep, and the next minute, he heard horns and whistles and angry citizens.
“ICE! ICE is here! Everybody hide! ICE is here!”
“Well, shit,” Anthony muttered as they all rolled out of bed and lunged for their shoes.
They’d all gone to sleep wearing pajama pants and T-shirts, except Reynaldo, whose jeans were crumpled at the foot of the bed from when he’d climbed in.
Ilia had packed his knapsack for him, right down to the sandwich he hadn’t gotten to, which was wrapped in paper and shoved in a corner of his pack.
But that didn’t mean they were home free.
Reg’s idea about jamming the chair under the door was a good one, and his idea about having sweatshirts and shoes ready was even better.
As Anthony and Reg grabbed the extra bags of gear, Ilia silently led Reynaldo to the bathroom, where the window opened up to a shadowed back alley.
Anthony had checked out the alley before they’d both fallen into bed mere hours ago and had seen that one end was open to vehicles, but the other was passable—barely—by pedestrians.
The garbage wasn’t dangerous—no broken glass or barbed wire—but there were lots of pallets and broken-down boxes that could serve as cover.
Anthony and Ilia had hollowed out a couple of places, just in case.
Just in case of right now, when he found himself scrambling out of the still-dark hotel room, padding through the fetid alleyway on Reg’s heels, the boys silent ahead of them.
The open end of the alleyway was full of flashing lights and masked figures in tactical gear, with guns.
Anthony strained his ears for the sounds of people giving orders or talking to each other, but he could make out neither English words nor Russian accents.
Oh God. It could be either.
Ilia led the way, and soon they were huddled against the wall at the far end of the alley, crouching behind pallets and covered in cardboard.
The boys were shaking.