Page 96 of The Summers of Us

We’re already baking in the mid-morning sun.Everett leads the way on the sand, both of us trudging forward like we’re stranded and hoping to be saved. The wind is so strong I have to fight against it, but it’s a relief in the intense gaze of the sun.

It wouldn’t be this hard if my ankle wasn’t still on the mend. Neither of us anticipated how long a mile feels on the sand. He asked me last night if I was up for an adventure, then told me to be ready to leave by 7am. I didn’t think we’d drive so far to the state line, turning just before South Carolina for Sunset Beach.

We’ve already stopped four times for water, but Everett insists it will be worth it.

I’ve stripped down to just my shorts and bikini top, beads of sweat accumulating on my forehead.

Everett is just as sweaty. He stuffed his shirt into his bookbag a few dunes back. “If we make it to the jetty, we’ve gone too far.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see. Is your ankle still okay?”

“If I say no, will you carry me?” If I could, I’d rock on my heels to indicate just how much I’m joking. My ankledoeshurt, but only because the sand is concrete in the middle of the shoreline. But it’s nothing I can’t handle.

He lets out a chuckle. “If youreallyneeded me to. I suppose it’d be my punishment for bringing you here.”

It feels like walking in a dream with no end in sight. The dunes have looked the same for the past thirty minutes, tufts of grass and sunken sand where the wind blew too hard. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think we haven’t made any progress, but when I look back, the Sunset Beach Fishing Pier shrinks into the horizon.

We walk where shells are haphazard raindrops, broken on impact. We’re too far from the water to find any newly washed-up ones, but Everett finds a perfect auger for Liezel. Pin shells sparkle like purple fans. Pocket slippers hold water in their palms. Butter clams taunt me with the color and general shape of a sand dollar, so I search with my head held high for any indication of where we’re going.

Everett pivots to trudge to the dunes. At the top of the dunes lives a black mailbox secured to a piece of driftwood. Boxy, white stickers spell out “Kindred Spirit” in black lettering.

Everett opens the mailbox. Stacks of wilted notebooks rest inside, a pile of ink pens and pencils beside them. “This is the Kindred Spirit mailbox. For decades, people have come here to write their hopes, dreams, secrets, and letters to loved ones.”

So that’s why the red flag points up; there’s always mail in here.That’swhat infinity looks like. Kindred Spirit has weathered storms, kissed the sun, and braced itself against salt air for so long, but it stands strong to gatekeep the world’s wishes.

“I don’t know what we’re going to find in these letters, but they’re written by real people. I’ve always wanted to see other people’s wishes, you know, since you never tell me yours.” Everett cracks a smile, then hands me a dark blue notebook. He takes a green one and sits on a wooden bench to read.

I sit in the sand and fight the wind to keep the pages open. The pages crinkle when I slide my fingers across them. They, too, have to be strong for the words of the world. I let the wind take me to random pages, then brace against it to read them:

What does someone wish for when they’ve come all this way? I make a lot of wishes, but this is different. My biggest wish is to see my mom again. I never stopped to think about a simple moment being my last, but I’m glad I smiled at her from the kitchen window that day. I can’t smile at her again but at least I can give her this. Mom, I trekked all this way for you. Think of it as me smiling at your ghost.

We never even met, but I feel you next to me in the car,

on the parkway, taking every curve with a laugh,

and listening to songs I never learned were your favorite.

I’ve thought up the rest of you in my head,

The real-you and my-you ride two parallel lines.

What once existed on the same axis

now move perpendicularly.

So far from each other now,

one sits on a mountaintop

and one sleeps on the beach.

Last October, I ran a red light. I didn’t hit anything, but what if Ihad?I can’t shake the possibilities from my mind. I can’t stop dreaming in red and blue lights. Kindred Spirit, please free me from this guilt.

There are moments when you feel your happiness

as sure as you feel the wind.

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