Coincidences

Act LXV

"Thanks for the burgers," I said, my tummy finally filled with food. We were going for a walk, headed to Buster Pier. It was starting to get dark, and it was about to go home. He persuaded me to walk around for a bit, and, seeing why not, now we're here.

"Nah, it's nothing," he yawned. He shoved his hands inside his pockets. The wind huffed steadily, chilly. I couldn't help but stare at him. He was nibbling on some fries, complaining about how we forgot to grab some ketchup. His short bangs waved left and right, his unreadable gaze focused ahead, his hoodie flapping away. He noticed me, and asked, "What's the matter?"

"Oh, ah, nothing," I told him, and I changed the topic to, "I just wanted to know how you and Martin get along, that's all."

He kept his lips shut for a moment, while continuing to walk, as if he didn't hear me. Now, I am starting to wonder if there's a problem between them. I was about to ask about that, until he finally halted and spoke, "Martin and I, we're really good friends."

He carried on, "Sometimes, when my older brother gets too violent, he comes to me all the time. He always gets a scratch, a bruise or two, maybe even tells me that he has a broken bone. He exaggerates when it comes to that. He depends on me when he's in trouble, and he's always getting in trouble. Sometimes, it's not even Rocky's fault, yet I still take his side, even if there's nothing in exchange.

"To tell you the truth, Martin, Rocky, and I have been friends since we were young. Rocky wasn't like this at all. We would hang out at the park, play a game, show off our stuff, although I admit, I think Martin was a bit of a copycat back then. There was this time when I brought in a trendy comic book, and Martin happened to have already shown his, exactly before I did."

"That's horrible," commented I.

"Then, the same thing with an action figure, videogames, and even clothing."

I asked, just to see, "Did he do it on purpose?"

He answered me, "He claims it to be a coincidence, but coincidences are just explanations waiting to happen.

"Can I tell you something? Martin is a troublemaker... in his own way. He's not like Rocky, who destroys anything in his path. No, rather, he causes trouble for other people."

For other people? Is he one of them? Maybe, since he's always helping him out. "I see."

"And, just to let you know, he may be doing so to you, too."

"No," I denied, thinking of all the times Martin has helped me. "That's not true at all."

He turned around, glaring at me like I've said a grave lie. He ranted, "What are you talking about? Do I have to give you examples? That little rock, paper, scissors quarrel we had; he started it. You must have heard it through the phone. What is he doing now? He won't stop calling you, remember? He's even looking for you everywhere."

"Wait, how do you know that?" I questioned him. "He's looking for me?"

"Yeah, that's why I turned off my phone at the station." I do remember that. He was putting it away as he approached me.

We arrived at the sandy area, and the sun was already gone, out of sight. There was almost no one, and the beach looked deserted for the first time.

"I better go home now," I declared, after I eyed at my wristwatch.

"It's already too dark. I can't guarantee your safety, if you're walking at these hours," he advised, motioning to the suspicious homeless man, drinking vigorously from a cup. "Want me to take you home?"

I waved my hand "no". "It's ok. I'll be fine. Thanks for the offer, but it's better if we don't tell anyone about this yet."

"Oh, um, sure." He began to head back home. He departed with, "See you, Zoey."

"Wait!"

He glanced back at me, asking, "What is it, Zoey?"

"Thanks for today,

"Tyrone."