Seagull Summer: A Novella by Shawn Hopkins

Author:Shawn Hopkins
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Tags: cape may, seagull, humor, birds
Published: 2015-01-18T16:36:28.627135+00:00

* * * *

After kicking a ball around for half an hour, Doug is content to sit still and pile sand over my feet. I ask him random questions as he does this. What do you want to be when you grow up? What’s your favorite color? Where would you want to live if you could live anywhere? His answers are funny and some even make sense. Finally, I bring up the sibling scenario.

“Hey, bud, what would you think about having a new brother or sister?”

He throws sand over his shoulder. “Yeah!”

I stare at him, wondering if he understands everything such an addition would entail. No, of course he doesn’t. He sees a new friend to play with, nothing else.

“If you had a sister, what should we name her?”

“Poo-poo Head!”

“Right. Silly question.” Unbelievable. His obsession with crap is amazing. “What about a brother?”

“Weck-it Walph!”

I was thinking Zoro, myself. I ask him a series of other questions, enjoying the attention it earns me. I don’t get much alone time with him. This is nice. I begin to wonder what the coming years will be like. School, junior high… Will we be close, or will he think I’m a dork?

A shadow falls across my face, interrupting my thoughts. I look up from my chair to see the mobster from yesterday hovering over me—handprints still visible on his belly. The arm candy is missing, though.

“Hey, you that guy was attacked by them birds, right?”

“Well, my wife, actually.” He looks around for her, and I can detect a trace of worry seeping into his eyes.

“She okay?”

“She’s not feeling good.”

He kneels, leaning forward and putting the weight of his girth onto one knee. He looks troubled about something. I’m suspicious and wonder where in the world this is going. Am I about to get whacked? He seems to have left his Tommy-gun with his girlfriends today, but there’s a conspiratorial aura that he’s emitting that has me curious.

“She sick?”

“She doesn’t feel good. Why?”

He looks around, not wanting to meet my eyes. His hair is slicked back, his chain partially concealed beneath the hairy mat on his chest. “I heard someone else talkin’ this mornin’ ’bout stuff. I been thinkin’ bout yous since.”

That spikes my interest, and I tilt my head slightly, letting him know that he has my attention.

He continues, “I was walkin’ the beach, ya’ know, tryin’ to jog a bit down by the water like I seen everyone do here. I come up on these two girls walkin’ in front of me. The sun was in front, so they couldn’t see my shadow, ya’ know?”

Yeah, I know. Mobster. Hitman. Assassin.

“They was talkin’, and the wind was carryin’ their conversation. I followed them, listening.”

“Kind of creepy.”

“Like I said, they had no idea I was there.” He takes a breath, not used to talking this fast, and I almost expect that this is just a ploy to get me to drop my guard so that he can pull a switchblade from the back of his trunks and plunge it into my jugular.

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