Sunflowers

by Melodie Starkey

  The boys both tried to climb his body as he came out, Sam just repeating, “Oh, Daddy! Oh, Daddy!” while Jordan explained, “We thought the shark ate you! We saw a shark comin’!”

  He knelt and held them until they settled down some, then smiled and asked, “Did you see my rescue dog save me?”

  The dog was still standing by him, wagging its tail. Sam gave it a hug, and asked, “Can we keep it? Can we name it Lassie?”

  He chuckled, but said, “This is someone’s pet. It has a collar, see?” He lifted the dog’s tags. “It says…Gus. Gus? What sort of a name is that for a dog?”

  This was too much for the boys. With whoops of laughter they ran back up the beach, calling, “Gus! Here Gus! Here Gus!”

  And then their voices were chorused by a woman down the beach shouting, “Gus! Gus, get over here!” The boys started toward her, coaxing the dog along. Gus pushed his dripping hair off his forehead and followed.

  He reached them as the boys were giggling into their hands. The woman looked up at him, mortified. “I am so sorry! I can’t believe…! I’m so sorry!”

  He took a wild guess at what they had just revealed to her. For revenge he commented, “Don’t worry about it. Sam’s done far worse since I got him.”

  She laughed, but Sam growled, “Daddy!”

  He guessed her to be around his oldest sister’s age—late-thirties. She had sun-streaked golden blonde hair and the sort of freckles usually associated with a redhead. She held out her hand. “Carole Jarvis.”

  He shook, saying, “I hate to admit this, but I’m Gus. Gus Moore.”

  “Really! Is your name really Gus, or is that short for something?”

  “August. Which, by the way, was not when I was born. Or conceived.”

  She laughed again, then asked, “You guys vacationing?”

  “Yeah. We’re Midwesterners. Thought we’d come see what this ocean stuff was all about. It’s sure beautiful here.”

  She nodded. “I’m a native. Our family owns one of the resorts. It’s a lot of work in the summer, but worth it for the amazing peace of the off-season months.”

  Sam suddenly stepped between them and gazed up at her. “We’re not looking for a new mom.”

  She bit her lip to not laugh at Gus’s embarrassment, then said, “Good. I’d hate to think my kids were out looking for new moms whenever I turn them loose.”

  “You got kids?” Jordan asked.

  “Three of them. Two girls and a boy. Want to meet them?”

  Jordan and Sam exchanged looks, then Jordan said, “We’ll meet the boy. Girls smell bad.”

  Gus popped him lightly on the back of the head.

  “Okay. We’ll meet the girls. But we probably won’t like them.”

  She grinned, then suggested, “Why don’t you guys come have dinner with us. We’re up there—see that blue hotel?”

  “Thank you, but…” Gus started.

  “Great. We’ll see you about 7:00, okay? Bring sweatshirts.”

  “Okay, no comments about anyone’s body odor, right? And no bathroom jokes.”

  “Tomorrow can we go to a new beach?” Sam asked.

  “Tomorrow we can go exploring. Let’s just be nice tonight, okay?”

  “‘Kay,” Jordan agreed.

  “What if they’re cookin’ cabbage?” Sam asked.

  “No one cooks cabbage except your grandmother, and she just does that to be mean. Let’s go.” He led them up the narrow road from their hotel to the one Carole had pointed out.

  As they neared, the dog ran out to bark in greeting, followed by two girls in pink sweat suits, with long blonde hair in ponytails down their backs. They looked to be around ten and eight. The older girl stepped forward and said, “Hi. Mom said your name is Gus.”

  “That’s right. And this is Sam, and this is Jordan.”

  “I’m Wendy. That’s Frannie. Our brother is Holden. He’s only three. Daddy said we can have a cookout on the beach. You ever had a cookout on the beach?”

  “No. Sounds wonderful.”

  She nodded. “We’re havin’ weenies and S‘mores. Plus fruit salad and chips. Come inside. We gotta help carry stuff.” She led them to a door behind the main office.

  Carole came forward as they entered, smiling and saying, “Right on time. Guys, this is my husband, Matt, and that’s Holden. Matt, this is Gus and Sam and Jordan.”

  Matt smiled warmly and extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. I hear you’re from the Midwest. Where abouts? I went to college in Ohio.” He was blonde like his wife and children, with a long ponytail and an unkempt beard.

  Gus answered, “We’re Chicagoans. This is our first excursion West.”

  “And you chose Oregon instead of California? That a tell-tale sign of your character, or was there an actual reason?”

  Gus grinned. “Would it sound too flakey if I said I liked the pictures on the Internet?”

  Matt chuckled. “That sounds like an absolutely perfect reason. Gentlemen, do you like our ocean?” he asked the boys.

  “It’s really cold,” Jordan said. “Today we saw a shark.”

  “Shark?” He raised his eyebrows. “Oh my! I’ve always heard sharks only like warm water.”

  Sam squinted. “Is that true?”

  Carole replied, “As a matter of fact, it is. That’s why you always hear about shark problems in Florida, but never here.”

  “‘Cept the killer whales,” Wendy offered. “But they don’t eat people. Just seals.”

  “You mean Free Willy?” Jordan asked. “Have you seen him?”

  “Not around here. They like it even colder than this. Sometimes you can see humpback whales passing, but only with binoculars. We don’t see much sea life except the random jelly fish and your usual tide pool residents. Have you guys explored around the rocks at low tide?”

  Sam nodded. “We seen lots of star fish and belly button fish and one of them pokey things.”

  “Urchin,” Gus clarified.

  “Yeah. It was purple. But we couldn’t have it ‘cause they won’t let them on the airplane.”

  “And because it belongs here,” Gus reminded him.

  “Yeah. It was prob’ly lookin’ for its family.”

  Wendy rolled her eyes at him, but just said, “Let’s go down to the beach.”

  “Are you game for sand in your food?” Matt asked with a grin.

  “Of course.”

  They all loaded up with things to carry, Jordan carefully balancing the bag of marshmallows on his head and Sam donning the rolled up picnic blanket like shoulder pads. Holden led the way with two sand buckets and several shovels. When they reached the sand, there was already a fire ring set up with large driftwood logs surrounding it and a healthy supply of new wood for burning. The children migrated to the wet sand and started to construct a sandcastle, Wendy giving everyone instructions, which they all mostly ignored.

  As the sun sank into the water, the children came back to roost, and the weenie roast got under way. Holden caught his on fire, but Carole just calmly blew it out, then picked the scorched skin off of it and fed it to him anyway. Several marshmallows plunged to their deaths in the flames, but enough survived for everyone to get their fill of S‘mores. Occasionally other people would stroll by on the beach or in the cold surf, waving when Frannie called “Hallo!” or pausing to pet the dog as he ran to greet them.

  When at last they returned to their hotel, Gus had to help the exhausted children out of their clothes, tucking them in bed together without baths. A few germs never killed anyone, right? He considered calling home to assure Ellen and Frank all was well, but realized it was after midnight there. He opened the door to the balcony and settled into a lounge chair to listen to the surf for a few minutes. What a peaceful place this was. If he lived here, he’d never accomplish anything again in his life. He smiled at that thought and closed his eyes.

  He heard gulls screeching, and opened his eyes to discover it was morning.

  Chapter 21


  As Gus was unpacking their suitcases in the laundry room while Frodo lay across his feet to keep him from leaving again, there was a knock on the door. He called, “Enter!”

  “Mr. Moore?”

  “Craig? I’m back here.”

  The boy appeared in the hallway and smiled at the dog. “You tellin’ him how bad we treated you, Fro?”

  Frodo wagged his tail without bothering to raise his head.

  “You guys have fun? Jordy hasn’t stopped talking since he walked in the door.”

  “We had a blast. I’ll have to drag you along too next time.”

  “Cool. Hey, remember that chick that ran into Frodo last winter?”

  Gus shivered involuntarily. Keeping his face focused on the filling washer, he said, “Yeah?”

  “I think she’s stalking you.”

  Now Gus turned, frowning. “Why do you think that?”

  “I see her around a lot. She parks down at the corner and watches your house. Once, while you were gone, she even came to the door and knocked a few times. You know her?”

  Gus looked away again. “Yeah. That’s Sarah. If you see her out there again, could you give me a call maybe?”

  “Sure. Is she like dangerous?”

  “Nah. She thinks I’m hot. Can you believe it?” He grinned at the boy.

  Craig grinned back. “You are hot, dude. Not that I go checkin’ out guys. But why don’t you like, you know, boink her or something? She’s pretty enough.” Craig’s grin faded. “You’re not…”

  Gus shook his head, smiling. “I did. With her. Until I found out she’s got this other boyfriend. I’m sort of old fashioned about that.”

  “Oh. Yeah. Me, too.” After a pause, he added, “But maybe she broke up with him. Maybe that’s why she’s back. Would you take her back if she broke up with him?”

  “I don’t know. How do you trust someone once they’ve done that to you, you know?”

  Craig shook his head. “Yeah. Girls are weird, huh?”

  Chapter 22

  Tom Harris from Chicago’s Department of Child Services had dropped by that afternoon to visit, although they no longer lived in his jurisdiction. He claimed it did his soul good to be around them. It was he who had called Gus one night three years ago to ask if there were any chance he would consider housing a malnourished Saint Bernard puppy who was otherwise heading to the pound, as its owners’ children were being removed and the parents jailed. Today, while they watched baseball, Gus in his White Sox cap and Tom in his Cubs t-shirt, Tom commented, “You raised a Catholic by any chance?”

  “Why? Because of my chastity?”

  The man laughed. “Don’t know about that. I was just thinking you seemed like a likely candidate for everyday sainthood.”

  Gus smiled. “Just incredibly lucky.”

  He thought of that now as he read the Chicago Tribune online about yet another baby being shaken to death by its father. Not once had Sam’s crying sparked any emotion in him except empathy and nurturing. How could you hit a baby? How could you twist its leg? He shook that memory from his head. Read about some local political corruption.

  His instant message screen informed him: “PsyDr2U wants to send you a message. Will you accept?”

  He hesitated. She hadn’t tried to contact him online since that one night. He could just block her. He could just not let her know he even cared. He clicked Yes.

  “Gus?”

  “My neighbors think you’re stalking me.”

  “Guess I’ll cancel my job app at the CIA.”

  “I’ve been out of town. Something you want?”

  “Another chance?”

  He really wanted to turn the computer off at that point. Wanted to reach through the machine and slap her. Finally he answered, “I am not your gigolo.”

  “I know! I don’t mean that! Can we try friends?”

  “Why?”

  She didn’t respond, but didn’t sign off.

  Finally he added, “Why do you want to be friends with me?”

  “You make me feel like being a better person.”

  “By cheating on your boyfriend?”

  After another long pause, she replied, “By admitting that was a dead end. We broke up in April.”

  “Because of me?”

  “Because neither of us really felt attached. Just convenient.”

  “What do you want me to say? Should I believe this would’ve happened if you weren’t caught?”

  “I told him I wanted time off before that day.”

  “Didn’t look like it.”

  “He only took my hand after Sam called me. Probably when he saw you.”

  He didn’t respond.

  Finally she added, “I needed to ask a huge favor.”

  He frowned. “?”

  “My dad died. Could you go to the funeral with me?”

  His chest clenched. “Call me 660-4347.”

  He snatched it up on the first ring. “Why didn’t you say that first? Are you okay?”

  “I’m… I just don’t want to be alone. I mean, other people will be there, but…”

  He could tell she was crying. “Of course I’ll come. When?”

  “It’s tomorrow. The viewing’s at two. I’m sorry it’s such short notice. I tried coming over…”

  “Yeah, Craig told me. How ‘bout Sam? You want me to get him a sitter?”

  “I’d like him there, if you don’t think he’ll get scared.”

  “He’ll be good. Tell me where.”

  Chapter 23

  Craig hung out on the couch, playing with Gus’s XBox on the pretense of retrieving Jordan as Gus persuaded Sam into his dress clothes. “You sure you don’t want me to just keep him here?” Craig offered.

  Sam looked up eagerly.

  “No. This is important.”

  “Where we goin’? Gramma said I c’n wear shorts an’ stuff at her house.”

  “We’re going to a funeral. That’s where you pay respects to someone who died. And paying respect means nice clothes.”

  Sam frowned. “Who died?”

  “Do you remember our friend Sarah?”

  “She died?” Sam pulled out of his grasp.

  “No, no! Not her. Her father. Remember how she was always going to visit her sick father? He died. He was very sick. We’re going with her because she’s real sad.”

  “The stalker chick?” Craig asked.

  Gus smiled a little. “That’s the one. She was coming over to tell me.”

  “So you’re gonna…”

  “We’re going to attend her father’s funeral. And you’re gonna not be blowing that all out of proportion. Are you staying with Frodo?”

  Craig grinned. “Thanks.”

  When they entered the funeral parlor, Gus was aware that everyone had turned to look at him questioningly. He wondered if he had the wrong place until Sam pulled away from him and darted forward to where Sarah stood with her back to them, being consoled by two other women. As Gus approached, he saw Sam tug on her dress then stretch his arms for lifting. She smiled through her tears and raised the child to her chest. “Sam! I’m so glad you’ve come!”

  Sam kissed her and said, “Don’t cry. You don’t gotta be scared. My daddy can take care of you now.”

  She sobbed a little and hugged him tighter. “Thank you, Darling.”

  Gus hung back awkwardly until finally one of the other women said, “Are you going to keep us in suspense?”

  Sarah looked over. “Hm? Oh, sorry!” She turned and smiled timidly at him, mouthing, “Thank you.”

  He nodded.

  “These are my friends, Sam and Gus. Guys, these are my friends, Kristen and Freda.”

  Sam waved at them, still clinging to her. Gus shook their hands, then touched her shoulder. “Let me take him…”

  “Not yet, please. He makes me feel anchored.”

  He wanted to hug her then, but just nodded and stepped back.

  She held onto Sam through the rest of the viewing, eventually s
itting down with him in her lap and beckoning for Gus to join them. “You holding up okay?” he asked her quietly.

  “Yes. Thank you so much for being here.”

  Sam twisted around to tell her, “You needa come back to our house. Fro misses you. Gramma don’t like dogs very much. She thinks he gots fleas. He don’t.”

  She looked at Gus querulously. “Grandma?”

  “He wanted to meet them. They were surprisingly nice, once we established that I didn’t want to borrow money or abandon him to their care.”

  She smiled and reached for his hand, squeezing it gently.

  As they all began shuffling into place to drive to the cemetery, Gus decided to run Sam to the restroom first.

  “Daddy, what happens when you die?”

  “I don’t know. You just stop being alive.”

  “But don’t you turn into an angel and fly to the clouds to be with Jesus?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Maybe I seen it on TV. I forget.”

  “We should have your memory checked. You seem to forget a lot.”

  “Do you believe in Jesus?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “How come you never tol’ me ‘bout him?”

  “I did. What do you think Christmas is for? That’s Jesus’ birthday.”

  “That’s Jesus? The little baby in the hay?”

  “Yes. Who did you think he was?”

  “The skinny sad man hangin’ on the building at that one place in Chicago.”

  “Yes. That’s Jesus, too. Sounds like I need to brush up on my parenting duties here. We’ll talk about this tomorrow, I promise. Let’s go.”

  “Where we going now?”

  “We’re going to the cemetery. They need to put the casket in the grave now.”

  Sam stopped. “In a hole?”

  “Yes. That’s what a grave is.”

  “But how will he get out?”

  Gus saw a few people near them glance over. Great. Where was Sarah? He didn’t want her to hear this. “C‘mere.” He led the boy to a chair against the wall and lifted him onto his lap. “When you die, you’re all done with your body. You don’t need it any more. So it’s okay that they put it in the grave. Only your spirit goes up to Heaven, okay? It doesn’t have a body.”