Captain Reyes watched until she was gone.
Then he brought the golden box to Noah.
He carefully lowered himself onto one knee.
“Mind if I sit here, Buddy?”
Noah wiped his cheeks with the back of his wrist.
“My castle is broken.”
Noah stared at the ocean.
“She did it on purpose.”
“She did.”
The lifeguard did not soften the answer.
He did not pretend otherwise.
He gave Noah the truth.
Then Captain Reyes placed the golden box on the between them.
“Can I show you something your dad left behind without knowing it?”
I stared at him.
So did Noah.
“My dad?”
Captain Reyes opened the box once more.
This time, he lifted the velvet lining.
Hidden beneath it was a laminated photograph, its edges faded from years of sunlight and dust inside a drawer.
He passed it to me first.
The man in the picture was younger, barefoot and shirtless, with wet sand covering his arms to the elbows.
Simon.
My Simon.
He stood beside a massive sandcastle I had never seen, laughing so hard his eyes were nearly shut.
I looked at the photograph far longer than I intended.
Noah pressed against my arm.
Captain Reyes nodded.
“Before you were born, your father used to come here early. Sometimes before sunrise. He built castles right there.”
He pointed toward the waterline.
“Big ones. Strange ones. One had a wall shaped like a whale. The guards would come down and help when the beach was quiet.”
I had never heard that story.
