At more speed than seemed sensible, a pink children's bike maneuvered through the row of narrow bollards that separated the parking lot from the beach. The flagpole with flapping cat flag warned people about the incoming violence. The blonde boy didn't seem to care that a few pedestrians had to move their feet quickly to get out of the way. Just as it didn't seem to bother him that he was being met with benign ridicule and laughter by the same pedestrians.
Tyler Aaron Reed had a broad grin on his attractive face. The rolling beads and flapping fringes at the wheel of the Hello Kitty bike didn't diminish that in the least. His own ultra-modern citybike had been standing in the garage for more than a week with a flat tire. After working as his mother's personal slave for the last two days, he was glad he could escape the house for a while. He knew she'd expect him back soon, but it was too nice an afternoon to waste. The beach and the beautiful water beckoned to him.
Unconcerned, he drove to the beach guard station and got off. He stretched out his six feet body as he looked around for the lifeguard in service. "Lucas?"
"Yo, Tyler!", he heard a voice in the far cry out. His 19-year-old and sun-tanned friend enthusiastically greeted him with a solid handshake and a brief embrace. "I expected you a long time ago, man. Everyone asked about you."
"My mother is killing me. I don't start my work until next week and she saw her chance to get me to do every job there can be done." As proof of his suffering, Tyler put out his hands full of small scratches.
"Dude," it sounded full of compassion. "Say, why didn't you go to camp this year like you always do? From all the stories I've heard of you, I'd think you'd like to be a camp leader again."
"Lindsey didn't go this year, so I decided to stay home so I can spend the summer with her."
"The mouthwatering Lindsey Magyar," Lucas sighed dramatically. "It's a good idea to keep her close to you. There are many suiters looking for an opportunity." With two steps at the same time, he climbed the stairs of the beach rangers station. Dude, this is really not cool," he said, glancing at the little pink bike standing in the corner of the door. "Haven't you fixed your flat tire yet?"
"I will, mother. As soon as I have time," Tyler muttered. "Can you look after Naomi's bike? I crave a fresh dip." Halfway through the sentence, he started walking backwards.
"Yes, fine," Lucas sighed.
Without any further hassle, Tyler jumped over the railing and deftly landed in the deep warm sand. He ran to the surf. Tyler enjoyed the sea. He floated on his back and felt how the sun heated him. For this moment, he let go of all thoughts.
Once back on the beach, he suddenly became aware of someone who called his name. From afar, he saw Lucas with a megaphone in his hand. With a finger, he tapped his wrist. A shock pulled through Tyler when he realized how much time he had wasted. His mother would skin him alive! Moaning, he saw his carefree summer with Lindsey slipping through his fingers.
If he wanted to run errands and be home for dinner, he'd have to postpone his hairdressing visit. Fortunately for him, the entrance to the supermarket was located at the end of the promenade diagonally opposite the beach. He quickly snatched the little pink bike from the hands of his disapproving looking friend. "Thank you, Lucas. See you tomorrow?"
"Sure! You know me. I don't like to miss a party." With shaking head he saw his friend racing away on the small bike.
Arriving at the grocery store, Tyler jumped off his bike. Searcing with his hands in his damp pockets, he walked into the store. Upon seeing the wet piece of paper he pulled out, he felt his heart sink. Argh! How could he have been so stupid? He had completely forgotten to get the shopping list out of his pockets before diving into the water. Carefully, he tried to unfold the wet paper. The blue pen strokes were mixed up. No matter how he tried, there was nothing readable to bring back. A heart-felt curse escaped his lips.
"Take it easy, kid. There are people who find that kind of language offensive," he heard said.
Not in the mood to be reasonable, Tyler turned to the voice. A man with grey hair, grey beard and washed-up workwear was disapprovingly looking at him. "Listen grandpa," he started sharply. Black eyes pinch together for a moment. With difficulty, Tyler managed to swallow some nasty words. "Let's both get on with our business, okay?" Shaking his head, he got rid of the man.
Thinking about what he should do with his crappy shopping note, he stood still in the aisle. Slowly dawned on him that the old man was still staring at him. Annoyed, he turned around. "I don't know what you have in mind, old pervert, but I can tell you that it's not going to happen," he spat angrily.
The man took him with raised eyebrows. Was it Tyler's imagination or was there an extremely bland smile around his lips?
"You're leaking."
Tyler let out at a scornful smile. "What?"
"Look at your feet," the man patiently said.
Automatically, Tyler followed the order. On the floor below him, a small puddle had formed.
"Oh," was all he could say. He felt very uncomfortable under the inquisitive gaze of the older man next to him, whose dark eyes seemed to pierce him to the bone. "I'm going to find someone who can clean up the water," he said, happy to leave the man's field of vision. Soon he found an employee. That problem was solved, but how was he supposed to proceed?
"Well, young Mr. Reed. Why are you walking around with such an sour face? Do you like holiday life less than expected?" The owner of the store, Mr. Browning, took him in with genuine interest. The man, kind and helpful, was one of the biggest gossips Tyler knew. In his hour of need, he couldn't have come across a better person.
"Indeed, Mr. Browning. You would help me out of a pinch if you knew the recipe for my mother's pear pie." He opened his hand containing a soaked piece of paper.
The shrewd businessman took Tyler from head to toe. The wind faded hair, wet pants and lightly burned cheeks spoke volumes. "You look like a surfer," he snorted disapprovingly.
Tyler laughed at the man. He pulled his blonde hair that hung far over his ears. "I've already been instructed to have it cut. Unfortunately, this has to wait until tomorrow because this is more important."
"There's a fine men's barbershop in the mall," the man kindly suggested. "But first for our dilemma."
"Our dilemma?", Tyler asked surprised.
"Sure. I love your mother's pear pie. It would be terrible if it were to be missing at the party," he said, knocking on his bulky belly. "If you dry your pants in the staff room, I'll call Mrs. Browning."
"Thank you, Mr. Browning. That would save my life." Relieved, he walked with the owner who opened the door to the private area for him. From the corner of his eye, he watched the grey man from before scrutinize him with his eyes pinched. Tyler couldn't suppress a little grin. The man was obviously dissatisfied or angry about what he saw. Tyler didn't care either way. The reason was irrelevant to him. The man's anger was amusing.
Without a hurry, he dried up his pants and refreshed himself a bit. Outside the toilets was a long corridor that led to the offices. "Hello, Mr. Browning?", he shouted loudly.
"Yes, Tyler. Come in," he heard from a room in the back. "I've been able to reach Mrs. Browning, and Cindy's already busy in the store to collect the ingredients for you."
Together they walked to the customer desk where Cindy was waiting with a paper bag full of groceries. Leaning against the counter, he took the bag. "Thank you, Cindy." He gave her a radiant smile and the girl smiled back blushing.
"My pleasure, Tyler. Greetings to your mother."
Mr. Browning once again beat with satisfaction on his impressive belly. "Tell your mom I'm looking forward to her pie this year."
Tyler gratefully shook his hand. "Thank you, Mr. Browning. I'll do that. Would you please send my regards to Mrs. Browning? I hope I'll get the chance to thank her personally tomorrow?" His mother would be proud of his good manners.
"We will be present. See you tomorrow, Tyler."
Satisfied with the end of his adventure, he was about to leave the store. The thought of the black eyes that had looked at him so disapprovingly stopped him. It was childish and petty, and yet he couldn't resist. He turned to Mr. Browning and conjured up his most innocent face.
"Another small comment, Mr. Browning, about a man who is still in your store at the moment. I know how serious you are about the safety of your customers." He looked at his shoes as if he were ashamed of what he had to say. "I felt very uncomfortable because of the way he spoke to me and looked at me. Even now." With a small nod he alerted the owner to the location of the man in question. Tyler knew the stranger was looking at him. He felt the man's eyes burning in his back.
The smile slipped from the face of the always friendly Mr. Browning. "Leave this to me, Tyler. You make sure you get home safely."
"Thank you again for your help, Mr. Browning."
He threw one last sneaky grin at the stranger who literally looked him out the door.
Arriving outside, he put the bag in the small white basket and made his get away.