Lost at Sea

Ch. 6

Sally wasn't surprised when she saw him the next morning, seated in her section. She assumed her best waitress voice. "Hello, my name's Sally, and I'll be serving you today. Can I get you started with a coffee? Water?"

"I'll just have the water, thank you."

"Alright, one water it is. Have you had a chance to look over the menu? Need a little extra time?"

"What do you recommend?"

"Well," she leaned over conspiratorially and lowered her voice. "I'm supposed to recommend the special, but truthfully I'm a sucker for a good short stack. Our syrup is locally sourced. You can't go wrong."

"That sounds perfect."

He stayed two hours, nearly through the end of her shift. Whenever she would stop by to check in on him, he'd ask what else she recommended and order it. On one occasion as she walked back toward the kitchen, an elderly lady with curly white hair, one of the locals, touched her elbow. "That young man is sweet on you, honey," she said with a knowing smile. Sally blushed and continued into the kitchen. Sweet on her. Preposterous.

She had about ten minutes of her shift left when she found his table empty. She tried to bury her disappointment, instead looking down at the wad of cash on the table -- far more than enough to cover what he'd ordered. Placed on the center of the pile, weighing it down, was a bright, golden coin unlike anything she'd ever seen. She slipped it into her pocket before cashing the check, finished up the rest of her shift, and headed out the back. Poseidon was waiting for her.

"What shall we do today?"

"Excuse me?" she laughed. "I don't recall making plans with you."

"So? Let's make plans."

"I can't. I have a lifeguard shift in half an hour."

"Ah, I was hoping you would say beach day. I promise not to be too distracting this time."

"Don't you have other things you should be attending to?"

"Possibly. But, like I said before, I'm on vacation. Everything else can wait."

She narrowed her eyes. "You promise you won't be distracting? I'm responsible for lives, you know."

"I swear it on the River Styx."

If she'd thought her job would be more difficult with him around, she was wrong. He was clearly in a good mood, and it was almost like the ocean responded to it. The water lapped gently at the shoreline, surfers road easy waves that didn't break unexpectedly. Sally felt absolutely certain that nothing of concern would happen while he was around.

She sat up in her lookout post, and he reclined in the shade it cast over the sand below. They casually chatted, about their favorite beaches (Montauk was hers; his was a hidden alcove in Greece), their preferred ice cream flavors (cotton candy for her -- she loved the blue; rich chocolate for him), and million other small things that shouldn't have mattered but did. When they were silent, it wasn't awkward or tense, but the type of comfortable silence old friends and family could enjoy.

At one point, he took off running toward the water, a surfboard suddenly in hand. He paddled out to sea, waiting for the next wave to come. When it did, he surfed like no one he'd ever seen. The water moved effortlessly with him, turning him upside down and sideways as he hooted with delight. She knew he was showing off, but she didn't care.