Family Ties

“I thought you were going to fight him,” Danny said with a chuckle.

“No offense,” he said, “but he’d’ve kicked your ass. Or worse.”

“Don’t be so sure. I can fight. Judo, boxing, wrestling… take your pick.”

“That’s nice,” he said dismissively. “Do you know what Rich does? In the Navy, I mean.”

“He’s some sort of diver, right?” I glanced at Christy for confirmation.

“Underwater demolition?”

Danny laughed, low and grim. “In a manner of speaking. He’s a SEAL.”

“Sea, Air, Land. SEAL. Navy special forces. So he’s basically a trained killer.

Suits him perfectly, if you ask me.”

“Did you know that?” I asked Christy.

She nodded and looked guilty. “He doesn’t like us to talk about it, though.”

“What he does isn’t secret,” Danny said, “but they do a lot of clandestine operations. Real cloak and dagger stuff. So they don’t advertise who they are.”

“Holy crap,” I said softly.

“Yeah,” Danny agreed. “Think twice next time you get the bright idea to fight Rich.”

“Thanks for the tip,” I said, with only a hint of sarcasm.

“I tried to tell you,” he said lightly.

“I thought you were kidding.”

“I never kid,” he said. “Except when I do.”

We walked along in silence until we reached the park that paralleled the shore.

“Bonfire down the beach,” Danny said as we crossed the grass. “Looks like a party. You guys wanna check it out?”

The party was about fifty locals, mostly high school and college kids, as well as a group of middle-aged adults who looked like they were trying to be former hippies instead of the wealthy suburbanites they actually were.

They mostly sat in beach chairs at the edge of the firelight. One of them had a big boom box playing a local radio station, and plenty of coolers were scattered through the crowd.

Danny fit in immediately. He asked around and found an older surfer guy

willing to sell a styrofoam cooler full of ice and about a dozen bottles of a Mexican beer, Pacífico. Danny pulled out cash and gave it to him before I could chip in.

“You want any smoke to go with it?” the guy asked.

“It’s primo dope.”

“Nah, we’re cool,” Danny said. “Thanks for the brews.”

“No problem. Peace out, man.”

“Peace.” Danny opened the cooler and uncapped bottles as he handed them to us.

Someone called to Christy from a knot of people. Several of them came toward us. They were friends of hers from high school, and she introduced me as “my friend, Paul.”

I faded into the background as she chatted about people I didn’t know.