What Happens Over the Summer

One bad thing about working security at the pier was baking in the sun. By nine o’clock I’d sweated off all my sunscreen and could feel the sun baking my shoulders. I started to coat myself with more even though it would be gone quick with the temperature rising into the triple digits and me standing in the sun, but I only got it on my shoulders before the puffing sound told me it was close to empty.
The other bad thing is not being able to leave your sector when you were on duty. And in sector D there wasn’t a place that sold sunscreen. So I scooted under the umbrella of one of the many children’s rides next to the ride operator whom I knew from years of riding the ride and then operating some close by.
“Long time no see Jo,” she said, turning around to look at me.
“Yeah they’ve had me doing a lot of office duty.”
“Shit I wish I was in your shoes,” she said. “I’m out here baking while you lazy rent-a-cops sit in your air conditioning.”
I knew she was joking and held back a chuckle when I saw the disapproving glances from more than one mother. “Shelia you could get a job at the security office.”
“Nuh uh. Not me. When I wasn’t sitting behind one of them big ol’ desks I’d have to be up walking around.”
“It’s not like a little sun would kill you.”
“What you just sayin’ that because I got some nice chocolate skin? At least I don’t burn as much as your pasty ass.”
“Keep it down,” I said quietly, still hiding a smile. “Some of the moms won’t bring their kids back if you keep up.”
“Good riddance! If I could get another job…”
It had been the same story for years. Shelia hated kids, she wanted a new job, she wanted better pay. And under all that was a big marshmallow that had taken me under her wing when I’d started working at the pier when I was fourteen. She loved kids, even had a son of her own who had just graduated high school and was taking welding classes at the community college. No husband, but she’d been an awesome single parent.
Unlike a lot of the kids around the area, Bernie had had a job since he was sixteen and got his first car, had never been in big trouble, and had maintained decent grades. He outdid me. My grades had never been great and I’d been a bit of a bully in elementary school so in junior high the only person who’d hung around with me was Zeke.
He’d been a little wimpy back then but I knew him from the restraunt on the boardwalk and had stuck up for him. We’d “dated” for about a week before we decided we were better friends. Then the summer before High School he’d gotten a lot tougher and my cup size had started increasing. All four years he’d been like a big brother, protecting me from boys with racing hormones. His parents had surprised him with plane tickets to Italy the summer I’d met R.J. and I still hadn’t told him what had happened while he was on vacation. And probably never would.
“We’ll probably be short handed over the winter if you want to see if you can get a spot on the team.”
“Huh. Why would I want to work with you?”
“It’s not like you would be working with me. They’d probably keep you in the office.”
“And what does that mean? Just because I’m no spring chicken. I can still move with the best of them.”
“You’re more diplomatic than the young people.”
“So now you’re calling me old?”
This time I did laugh. “Never.”
“Why don’t you do your job and go look at that little boy over there?” she said, pointing to a bench next to another ride. The little boy looked a little scared. He couldn’t be much older than four or five; his feet didn’t even touch the boardwalk. There was no parent in sight and he kept looking around and biting his lip. Something niggled at the back of my mind. The boy looked very familiar.
“How long has he been sitting there?” I asked, all humor gone.
Shelia’s joking attitude eclipsed too. “Half an hour maybe. At least, that’s when I noticed him. If you were doing your job-”
But I was already walking towards the boy. He noticed me approaching and scooted a little further onto the bench, looking nervous.
I crouched down to his level and smiled. “Hello there.”
He visibly swallowed but didn’t respond.
“Anybody sitting here?” I asked, motioning to the empty bench next to him.
He slowly shook his head.
“Mind if I sit?”
Again he shook his head. I sat next to him slowly.
“So where are your mommy and daddy?”
He hesitated before saying in a shaky voice. “My Daddy said I’m not suppose to talk to strangers.”
“And he’s right,” I said gently, all the time keep an eye out for the absent father to return. “But did he ever tell you about police? That they’re your friends?”
“You’re no policeman,” the boy objected.
“No but I’m like one. A policewoman.”
“You’re a policewoman?” he looked doubtful.
“I’m like one. I just make sure everybody’s getting along. Are you having a good time? Is everyone being nice to you?”
He hesitated again. “Are you sure you’re a police?”
I took the cuffs off the back of my belt and showed them to him. “Do these look real?”
His little blue eyes lit up. “Wow cool! Can I touch?”
I held them out to him. He grabbed one cuff with a small hand. I smiled at his enthusiasm. I liked kids at this age. They were so fascinated with everything and looked at the world only the way an innocent kid could. Once this boy got older he may start to fear handcuffs and the people who carried them, but for now, they were just something cool and shiny he’d probably seen on TV.
“So where is your daddy?”
He looked at me with a little more trust and bit his lip again, looking around. “He promised he’d get me cotton candy before we went and saw his friend. I wanted to go on the motorcycles,” he pointed to a ride that was miniature vehicles that went around in a circle. “I wanted to go by myself because I’m a big boy. My Daddy said that if he wasn’t back I had to sit on this bench until he came back.”
“How long ago was that?” I asked.
“The motorcycles went around a hundred times and he’s still not back.”
The little boy could be exaggerating. The ride was about three minuets long. If he wasn’t, I could be looking at abandonment.