Drumbeats into My Heart

52. Jordi at the Boardwalk

The horn honks outside and I rise from the couch I've been waiting on.

Dad looks away from the computer and furrows his brow at me. "Are you back with that Dustin fellow?"

I pause, pursing my lips to the side as I consider my answer. "I don't know."

He grunts, but doesn't say I can't go. He's always been good like that, letting me make my own decisions.

Unlike Seth's mom.

I shake the unwanted thought out of my head and scoot out the door, following the heavy metal noise to Dustin's VW Bus.

"Hey babe, it's good to see you." Dustin's casually draped arm beckons me inside. He turns down the music as I climb in. "Ready for some fun?"

"That depends on what you mean by fun." I survey him and his still-present soul patch. His hair is shorter. "You got a haircut?"

"Yup." He runs a hand through his blond hair. "Something about split ends, I dunno. Let's go."

As the vehicle sputters to life and lurches forward, I'm comforted by the familiarity of it. The smell of french fries and pine air freshener, the feel of the terrycloth seat covers, the puttering engine, all of it. My hand glides across the terrycloth as I recall the good times we had, back when Dustin and I were a thing.

We arrive at the beach boardwalk, which has an entire theme park built right by the water. He's taken me here once before, and it was here where I first got the idea to drum for cash.

"A buddy of mine has the inside scoop on this place." Dustin pulls a small coil of tickets from his back pocket. "So we are all set for rides."

We pass a white-haired man with a violin, hands shaking slightly as he coaxes a tune from an instrument that had seen better days. His eyes are closed beneath his bushy white eyebrows, head swaying with the music.

I stop and remove a five-dollar bill from my wallet, backtracking a few steps to drop it into his upturned, mostly-empty fedora.

"Bless you," the man whispers dreamily, eyes still entranced by his violin.

I smile and rejoin Dustin on the sidewalk.

"What'd you do that for?" he asks as he links arms with me. "He's not very good."

"He's doing what he loves, and I respect that." I slide my arm out from his. "And his music sounds just fine."

He shrugs, and we continue walking.

Four carnival games, a tilt-o-whirl, and two bumper car rides later, we find ourselves sitting side-by-side at the top of the Ferris wheel. I peer over the rail, watching the tiny ride operator usher a tiny group of four into the car below. I can hear the cries of a reluctant child from here.

"That kid sure is a screamer." Dustin climbs over my lap to stick his head out over the side. "Just get in, kid! It's fun!"

I slap his arm. "Don't goad him. He's scared."

Dustin grins and sits back down. "Some people need goading."

Did he just wink at me?

"Some people need time to figure things out." I focus on a seagull sailing along a wind current to avoid looking at him.

He slides down in his plastic seat and stretches his legs out. "What's to figure out? If you're not sure, you try it out. If you don't like it, you get off. If you like it, you stay on."

I face him then. "Are we still talking about Ferris wheels?"

A gentle breeze feathers through his hair as his teasing smile fades. "What do you think?"

I squeeze my hands together in my lap, unsure how to answer. This is unfamiliar territory. I had no idea Dustin could speak in metaphors.

The seagull catches my eye again as it floats into an updraft. So effortless. It doesn't have to worry about feelings or boyfriends or tests. It doesn't have to earn money or think about the future. That bird knows what it wants.

The Ferris wheel lurches forward, and Dustin settles an arm around my shoulders like it's the most natural thing in the world. My first instinct is to protest, to remove his arm and scoot away. But in that moment, in my current state of mind, I feel safe. There's no embarrassment, no expectations. It's just... comfortable.

We often fall into old habits when trying to escape painful feelings or worries. I wonder if voting is one of them...