9. Miller #2
P.S. No, not the guy from Seinfeld, the guy Britney Spears was married to for 55 hours. We lasted nearly 17 hours longer than they did, so yay us!
I sighed and tossed the note onto the couch. While I totally understood why he was scared, running away wasn’t the solution. I went to find my car keys, so I could save Collie from himself.
I had a pretty good idea where he’d gone. I figured I’d have to drive up and down the coast until I spotted the sparkly purple van, but it was in the very first parking lot I came to at Ocean Beach.
I parked beside it and took off my shoes and socks before stepping onto the sand.
Collie had set up two folding chairs and a small table, halfway between the lot and the water’s edge.
He was sitting in one of the chairs, and Hubert Humphrey, his toy alligator, was sitting upright in the other.
A camp stove on the table was heating a metal teapot.
Collie was dressed all in black, same as always.
He looked like an aging starlet on the French Riviera in 1956.
His jeans were rolled up to his knees, and a very bulky knit cardigan was wrapped around his thin frame.
The bit that really sold the look was the wide-brimmed straw hat.
It was held in place by a long scarf that wrapped around his neck before ending in a flouncy bow on his left shoulder.
When I reached him and he tilted his head to look up at me, I saw he was also wearing his enormous sunglasses. He started with, “I know what you’re going to say.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
Collie considered that for a moment before telling me, “I’m here to watch the sunset.”
“It’s not for another hour or so.”
“I know. I’m waiting for it.”
“Can I wait with you?”
“Only if you continue to not say anything.”
I took a seat on the sand beside him and rested my arms on my bent knees. After a minute or two, I said, “I thought we agreed you weren’t going to drive, because it’s unsafe.”
“And I thought you weren’t going to say anything.”
“That needed to be said, though.”
“I didn’t drive.”
“Then how did you get here?”
“My chauffeur brought me.”
“What chauffeur?”
“Billy.” He waved to a skinny kid in a wetsuit, who’d just washed up on the beach next to his surfboard. Billy waved back before picking up his board and paddling out again.
“Is Billy old enough to drive?”
“He’s seventeen, and he has a learner’s permit.”
“I thought you needed to have an adult in the car with you when you drive with a permit.”
“He did. He had me.”
“And where exactly did you find Billy?”
“Online.”
“You probably shouldn’t tell people you pick up teenagers on the internet.”
“Don’t make it sound pervy,” he said. “I found him on one of those odd jobs websites. He’s trying to raise money for college.”
“And how much are you paying him?”
“Five dollars an hour.”
“It better be a community college.”
“It’s a mutually beneficial agreement,” Collie informed me. “He gets to practice driving, and he wanted to come to the beach anyway, so he could catch a few waves.”
“Is this the first time you’ve seen the ocean?”
“Yup.”
“I should have brought you here sooner.”
“To be fair, you were a bit distracted by medical emergencies and shotgun weddings.”
“It wasn’t technically a shotgun wedding,” I pointed out. “I’m pretty sure someone has to be knocked up to qualify.”
“I know, but I like how dramatic that sounds.”
“As far as medical emergencies, Collie…”
“Nope. We’re not going to discuss it.” Just then, the teapot started to whistle.
He turned off the burner and produced a mug with a teabag, seemingly out of thin air.
“If you’d like a drink, grab a mug and some tea from the van.
I have sleepy time, raspberry zinger, and something called Matcha Do About Nothing.
I bought that last one at a funky country store on the drive to California, but I haven’t tried it yet. ”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
“Suit yourself.”
We sat there for a while, watching the ocean, and watching Billy wipe out again and again. I said, “He’s not very good.”
“He’s a beginner, and I’m very proud of him for his tenacity.”
“Do his parents know where he is?”
“Of course. I didn’t kidnap the boy. His mother and I had a lovely conversation. Since I plan to stay here long enough to watch the sunset, I made sure to let her know he’d be home after dark.”
“And what are you going to do when your chauffeur goes home to Mommy?”
“I’m going to sleep wherever he ends up parking the van. In the morning, I’ll find a new chauffeur, because Billy has plans tomorrow.”
I asked, “How long can you keep this up?”
“Until I find a job. At that point, I’ll be able to pay my chauffeurs more than five bucks an hour.”
“You really haven’t thought this through.”
“No, but that’s okay. Live in the now,” he said. “That’s my motto.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. I’ve just decided that.”
“Come home with me tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I like hanging out with you, and because it’s a much better and safer alternative than sleeping in your van.”
“Would it just be for tonight?”
“No. You should stay until you get on your feet.”
He eyed me suspiciously. “Are you going to try to talk me into having the operation?”
“No.”
“I’ll think about it.”
A minute later, Billy came jogging up to us with his board tucked under his arm. After Collie introduced us, the boy said, “I think I need to stop for today. I’m pretty tired.”
Collie lied to him by saying, “You did great.”
The kid smiled and said, “Thanks. Did you see that one wave I caught?”
“I not only saw it, I filmed it and sent the video to your mom. We’re both very proud of you.”
“Aw, thanks Collie.”
“I made you a sandwich for dinner. Go eat and get warm in the van. Help yourself to some chips, too.”
Billy told him, “You’re the best,” before jogging to the parking lot.
I muttered, “I leave you alone for a few hours, and you become some random kid’s stepdad.”
Collie ignored that and asked me, “Are you hungry? Billy and I stopped off at a grocery outlet before we came here. I got a sixty-pack of snack-size chips for ten bucks. Hell of a deal.”
“I’m fine for now. Thank you, though.”
“You must really be pissed off at me.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re being exceedingly polite,” he said. “I think that’s your tell, like in poker. The angrier you are, the more you mask it with manners.”
“That’s a wacky theory.”
He took off his sunglasses and glanced at me. “So, you’re not mad?”
“Why would I be?”
“Because you think I’m being ridiculous and childish and making a huge mistake.”
“It’s your life. What you choose to do with it is your business.”
Collie stared at my profile for a long moment before saying, “You’re being nice about it. But I feel like, if I go home with you, you’re going to go Jekyll and Hyde on me and try to pressure me into having the operation.”
“How would I possibly pressure you?”
“I don’t know. Guilt? Logic? The offer of sexual favors?”
“Would any of that work?”
“The last one might.”
I grinned at that and kept my eyes on the horizon.
A minute or two ticked by. Finally, he blurted, “Fine, I’ll come home with you. On two conditions.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“The operation is like Fight Club.”
“We don’t talk about it?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay. What’s your second condition?”
“I haven’t thought of it yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll let you know.”
“Alright.”
We sat there until the sun turned orange and dipped below the horizon. It wasn’t the most dramatic sunset ever, but Collie seemed delighted. Afterwards, I helped him collect his things and carry them to the parking lot.
The surfboard was leaning against the driver’s side door, and the wetsuit hung off the roof so it could drip-dry.
The side panel door was open, and inside the van, Billy was fast asleep on the beanbag.
He’d changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, and he was surrounded by at least twenty empty snack-sized chip bags.
Collie muttered, “Aw, he ate all the Doritos.”
“Actually, they’re off-brand. Those packages say ‘Dodidos.’ And I can see why he ate so many. There are probably only three chips in each of those tiny bags.”
“It was still a good deal.” He shook Billy’s knee and said, “Rise and shine, buddy. It’s time to go home.”
Billy hopped out and loaded his surfboard and wetsuit in the back before sliding behind the wheel. Collie climbed into the van’s passenger seat, and I got in my car and followed them out of the parking lot.
It occurred to me that Collie might decide to make a break for it.
If so, what could I do? He thought I was going to try to convince him to have the surgery once we got home, and he wasn’t wrong about that.
Not that I had any idea what I could possibly say to get him to change his mind.
All I knew was that he needed that operation, because without it, he was putting himself in jeopardy.
But instead of doing anything tricky, they drove straight to my house, where a Subaru was double-parked out front. I pushed the button to raise the door and followed the van into the garage.
Apparently they’d called Billy’s mom to pick him up. He retrieved his surfboard, wetsuit, and a backpack and stuffed them into the Subaru while Collie and the woman greeted each other like old friends.
After they hugged, she gave Collie a large zip-top bag, which contained a paper plate full of home-baked cookies. He handed the kid a few bucks, and they did an elaborate, multi-step handshake while promising to keep in touch.
I slipped Billy a couple of twenties, and he grinned at me and said, “You’re alright, man. I can see why Collie’s into you.” Then he drove off with his mom, while Collie stood in the middle of the street and waved goodbye.
When the car was out of sight and he joined me on the sidewalk, I told him, “I have no idea how you became that kid and his mom’s BFF in a matter of hours.”
“They’re super nice. His mom wanted to meet me before she let her son go with me, and the three of us ended up having a great conversation. Then she drove us to the garage, so we could spring my van.”
“I told you I’d pay for that.”