Copyright © 2009 Alma Halbert Bond
All rights reserved, Wild Child Publishing.
Ruth walked down to the ocean at the end of Duval Street, one of her favorite spots on the island. A barefoot man sat on the cement seawall at the end of the pier, dangling his feet over the edge and wiggling them in the spray. He wore rolled up blue jeans and a t-shirt. With his back to her, he looked like Mike.
She stared at him. He still looked like Mike. Could it really be him, or was it another hallucination? She often thought she saw him, but it was never him. She was afraid to check it out; she had been disappointed so many times before. She took courage and tried again. It was Mike. She would know that sculpted head anywhere....
She stood behind Mike ever so quietly and held her breath. Wind churned the clouds overhead. Waves crashed restlessly against the cement. Eons, light years, an infinity passed. He remained as still as she. Finally, tortoise-like, he turned around and smiled.
"Hi," he said warmly, "I've been waiting for you." And then in his inimitably awkward fashion, he unfolded his long legs, extended his hand, and said to her, "Let's go."