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| Jeremy |
Jeremy is like a little brother to me. He's totally oblivious half the time, always mispronouncing words and facts, not getting it when people became annoyed with
him, childish, immature, not aware of boundaries or personal space, but totally lovable and would
do anything for anyone he considered a friend. Often after work, I go to
the beach and find Jeremy sitting on
a rock playing his tin whistle. I sit next to him and listen,
letting the mellifluous sounds wash the stable grime off me. Yesterday,
he stopped playing his song and matched his whistle to a seagull’s cry in perfect
pitch, making me giggle uncontrollably. After I stopped laughing, I extracted a worn photo of my father from my pocket to show Jeremy, only a huge wind gust snatched the
photo from my hand and soared it bouncing along the sand towards the sea. Jeremy flew off
the rock and ran to get it back for
me, but the wind carried my photo further
out and further out until it finally landed into the sea. I screamed. Without thinking, Jeremy ran
into the water as the waves crashed into his teen–thin body, and he thrashed about, grabbing at the moving square
glossy paper that glittered in the
sun. After several minutes, he
came back to me holding the dripping
and ruined photograph of my father.
"Here. Sorry!"
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