In The Sight of These Hills (Dolan Twins)

The Pale Cast of Thought

Chapter 27: The Pale Cast of Thought

"Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;

And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of great pith and moment

With this regard their currents turn awry,"

-Hamlet, Act 3, Scene 1

They were ten.

Ethan remembered the trip when he was lying awake sometimes in the dead of the night. He hadn't thought of it in a long, long time, though. Sean had taken them to Asbury Park Beach on a Saturday morning. It was a two-hour drive and he remembered that Grayson had gotten sick in the backseat, practically puking his guts out, and they had to stop at an old rundown gas station in a town in which no one really knew the name. It could've been any town, really. It was that kind, but close enough to the beach that there was the sharpness of the salt water in the air, the richness of it. Ethan had smelled it when he slid out of the car, helping a shaking, upset Grayson get out too. It was summer, and everything felt like summer: the leafy trees reaching up to the blue sky, the tourists with their faces covered in sunscreen, their heads covered in ridiculous looking touristy hats.

Sean had been taking them to see the mile-long stretch of white sand. The beach was famous for its popular boardwalks and shows they put on, and the ocean view, or course. The famous singer Bruce Springsteen even described it on his Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J. album. Sean even played one of the songs on the way there, "Blinded By The Light," eyes glancing in the mirror to the backseat every once in a while to see his boys talking to each other. That was before Grayson got unexplainably sick.

"Blinded by the light,

revved up like a deuce,

another runner in the night

Madman drummers bummers,

Indians in the summer with a teenage diplomat

In the dumps with the mumps as the adolescent pumps his way into his hat

With a boulder on my shoulder, feelin' kinda older,

I tripped the merry-go-round

With this very unpleasin', sneezin' and wheezin,

the calliope crashed to the ground

The calliope crashed to the ground-"

He turned down the music as he made a right turn on red, looking back at them. His eyes stilled on Grayson making a hand gesture that he didn't quite know what he meant, and Ethan laughing hysterically at it. He found that wasn't the first time he couldn't understand his boys.

"You know," he said, suddenly, and they stilled their talking. He looked at the road again, their eyes looking at him through the rearview mirror. They both had forgotten the man in the front seat as they were so caught up in their conversation.

"Yeah, Dad?" Asked Ethan, shifting a little in his seat. This was before the bullying, before the malicious calling, before Morrison. This was the summer and everything felt rich and sandy and hot and alive. Sean had the back windows down and the warm air, crisp already with the distant ocean, was crashing against their young faces, their young hearts. This was exciting, and they wanted to see the ocean.