The girls gave her a hard time about coming to Burke Beach, and generally their observations were correct.
It was dirty, the people in this part of town were sketchy and the restrooms were disgusting.
But the beach part of the beach wasn’t crowded, there was Azteca, the best taco truck ever, and contrary to what people might think, the sketchy guys and tweakers left her alone, at least compared to the muscleheads at Allegra Pier.
And today Toni watched the cutest little boy wading in the shallows of the shore, plucking handfuls of rocks out, perusing them, throwing the rocks back in, and repeating the process.
Toni read her book on neuroplasticity and nutrition, peering over it at the little boy, equally fascinated by both.
He wore shorts, but shoes, somewhat odd for the beach.
A chapter later, his shoes weren’t visible, as he had waded deeper in the water, bending, plucking rocks, looking, throwing.
Toni wondered if he would find a particularly interesting rock, keep it, and dash back to his parents, satisfied.
Where were his parents?
The beach wasn’t crowded at all. A man and woman snuggled under a blanket, kissing, two men passed a bottle in a bag, and sat knee to knee, also probably a couple but utterly oblivious to the little boy.
An older woman was sleeping, Toni guessed passed out. Was that grandma? She didn’t resemble the boy, but who knew?
A banger with an ankle tether talked on the phone. Was he the father?
The little boy waded farther out.
Toni set her book down and walked toward him, looking to see if anyone was paying attention, if anyone cared.
She got closer, scanning for someone, anyone, to bark at her to get away from their kid.
“Hi friend,” Toni called. “Are you here with anyone?”
“Shiny,” the boy said.
“You’re here with Shiny?”
The boy pointed at the water, shaking his head so vigorously that a snot bubble appeared in his left nostril.
“Looking for shiny.”
Toni smiled her best, reassuring friendly smile.
“You’re looking for a shiny rock?”
“Not rock. My daddy’s shiny.”
“Ohhh,” Toni said. “You’re here with your daddy?”
The little boy nodded yes with the same vigor he had nodded no.
The snot bubble oozed. Toni looked at the beach. The banger, large gothic triple 9 tattoo on his bicep, was wandering off, still on the phone.
He bent and pulled another handful of rocks.
“Can you point at your daddy for me?”
“He’s mad,” the little boy said.
“Not at you though, right?”
Toni felt a soft pain in her abdomen, hoping strongly that she was correct.
“He lost his shiny. I find,” the little boy said.
“Can I help?”
The little boy shot Toni a terrified look.
“Can’t take Daddy’s shiny!”
The little boy dropped, rather than threw his rocks.
He made little fists at his sides.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Jimmy Doom's Roulette Weal to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.