a time, he and Aubrey had been more.
“Are you up for a few more miles?” he asked. A sudden urge came over him to run by his old house. “We still have another hour before we meet Danielle Cruz and her parents.” Their first official task of the day was to interview the survivors from yesterday’s rescue.
“Sure,” Gale agreed.
They took off running again, heading east toward the other end of Mission Street. Here it crossed the two-lane Coast Highway, bisecting the town—and its socioeconomics right along with it. The community’s wealthier residents lived in the upscale beachfront and ocean-view mansions. The more modest “middle class” homes began a few blocks from the beach and stretched up toward the highway. The less fortunate and view-deprived lived “across the highway.” It was funny because he and Alex and Aubrey hailed respectively from each of these locales. The St. Johns lived in the grandest of all the grand beachfront homes. The Wynn family enjoyed a comfortable existence in a well-kept bungalow right in the middle of town. And the Pelletiers had made their home “across the highway.”
They turned into the now nearly empty parking lot of the Starfish Charmer where Eli explained, “This establishment used to be the place in town to drink hard and not go home alone.”
Gale chuckled in understanding. They were crossing the lot when a familiar figure emerged from the tavern. Eli watched as the man stopped, shoved his phone into a pocket and raked his hands through his hair. Same gesture of frustration he’d employed since they’d first become friends in the sixth grade.
“Hey, that’s my buddy, Alex.”
Alex saw them, gave a hearty wave and headed in their direction. They stopped and Eli introduced the two men. He silently hoped these two guys, his best friends, would hit it off.
“Are you okay, buddy? You looked a little wound up when you came out of there.”
“Oh, yeah, um...town council business.” Alex looked around like he’d just realized where they were. “What are you doing hanging around in this part of town, anyway?”
Eli lifted his arms in a wide shrug. “What are you talking about? These are my old stomping grounds. I’m showing Gale around.”
Alex chuckled. “True enough.”
“I think the real question is what are you doing here, St. John? Pardon my political incorrectness, but this is slumming for you. I, on the other hand, used to enjoy a basket of clam strips here almost every Saturday night with my dad.”
He glanced toward the somewhat run-down establishment, annoyance again creasing his brow. “Polly Simmons has started yet another petition to shut this place down.”
“On what grounds?”
“She claims it’s unsanitary.” Twisting his face into a grimace, he pointed across the highway and asked, “You guys headed to your old neighborhood?”
“We are. Is it?”
Alex clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll go with you for moral support because it’s going to break your heart, buddy. And, no, it’s not. I wouldn’t eat off the floor, but it’s nowhere near condemnable. Polly is irritated because Jaycie won’t sell the place. Jaycie keeps getting these obscene offers from developers, but she won’t even consider them. This further infuriates Polly because she is on the mayor’s bandwagon where this subject is concerned. Polly and the mayor and their cronies want to turn Pacific Cove into one of those upscale tourist traps full of—” he paused to add air quotes “—‘high-end boutiques and gourmet eateries.’”
He rubbed the back of his neck and then gestured at the Starfish Charmer. “What is wrong with this place the way it is? Once you lose that small-town feel? Bam, it’s gone forever. Am I right?”
He turned and motioned them forward. “Cool your heels, by the way. We’re walking. I couldn’t run across the street if a tiger was chasing me. Honest truth, I would literally lie down and take my chances with a tiger—that’s how out of shape I am.”
They all laughed and started walking.
“So, Gale, what do you think of our little town so far?”
“It’s great. I’m a small-town boy myself. It reminds me a lot of our little coastal towns back east in Connecticut.”
“But without the history or the New England–style charm?”
Gale grinned. “Well, a couple hundred years can make a big difference history-wise. Although, Astoria is pretty cool and you’ve got your own history with the fur trade and Lewis and Clark’s big adventures along the Columbia River. Plus, the old forts and the Native American culture. And all these spectacular lighthouses I’ve been reading about. Excited to check those out.”
“That’s true,” Alex said, a tinge of pride in his voice. After a thoughtful pause he asked, “How long do you think you guys will be here?”
Eli answered. “Uh, we’re not sure yet. As long as it takes us to make a thorough evaluation.”
“Of search-and-rescue training procedures?”
“Yep.”
“Air rescue or all operations?”
“We’re doing air, water and vertical surface. Someone else will be assigned to the boats, probably sometime this spring, from what I understand.” This wasn’t true, but luckily the powers that be had planned for this question and formulated the official answer they were to give if asked. Even though it was part of the job, it made him uncomfortable to have to lie to his old friend.
Alex nodded thoughtfully.
This would be the perfect opportunity to confide in Alex. He and Gale had been cautioned to proceed as if they didn’t trust anyone. The admiral knew Eli had roots here, yet he’d trusted him not to let those connections cloud his judgment. Eli and Gale had agreed that they’d discuss and be in accordance before they sought advice or help from anyone else, Coast Guard or civilian. There was also the fact that he could conceivably be putting his friend in danger by getting him involved. For the time being he would hold off.
As they walked and talked, Eli wondered how many hundreds of times he and Alex had covered this same path together. It was crazy how it suddenly seemed like they’d done so only yesterday.
The cozy gray-and-white saltbox he and his father had shared was gone now. They paused on the newly-poured sidewalk in front of a cardinal-red mailbox marking the address where it had once been. Memories tumbled through his brain like a slide show; his dad making him breakfast every single morning when he wasn’t on duty, playing on the rope swing he and his dad had hung from the limb of a huge spruce tree, his cat Willow greeting him when he got home from school...
“Man, we had some good times here,” Alex said. “Remember all the card games we used to play? Dang, Aubrey was good at that one where you have to get rid of all the cards in your pile. She has freakishly fast hands. Remember how we would cheat? We’d get frustrated and throw her cards so she’d have to scramble around for them while we would frantically try to catch up.” His deep belly laugh was contagious. “She’d get so mad, but she’d giggle at the same time. It’s been great having her back in town—and Nina, too. I love those Wynn girls.”
Eli
