Walking along the freeway is a tad demoralizing. Hundreds of cars pass by in the amount of time it takes you to walk a hundred yards. Eyes peer from every single one watching you trudge along the sidewalk, sizing you up to exactly as you appear, a loser without a car.
The day, I remember it well. June eleventh, the sun was particularly hot that day, beating down like marbles on a sidewalk, but what else can you expect, this is Florida., land of the beach bimbo and Jimmy Buffet songs.
I’m Theo Hasting, the guy with everything he could ever want, and the guy who threw it away, as my always nurturing father tells me. Apparently I screwed up my bright future to achieve the status of a burger flipping bastard. He’s always had a way with words.
I veer right and head towards the bridge spanning over the smiling blue waters of the bay. Huge skyscraping condominium complexes rise up from either side, at this time of year, the only people occupying them are at least over sixty. The Midwesterners all running scared from the depleted ozone layer of the southern Florida summer.
At least up here there’s a few groups of fishermen scattered around, leaning over the concrete barrier, willing the fish to bite their lines. As I pass, I call out above the pounding of the streetcars, “Any luck?”
Several tanned, leathery faces turn my way. A jolly looking, fifty something man chuckles, “Not today, son. They already know my old tricks.” His eyes sparkle in between the folds of coarse skin.
“Have a good one,” I say, and continue with my vagrant stroll, not in any hurry to get home to my father’s hyper productive absence.
My soothing African ringtone goes off in my pocket, pulling me into the uncertain world of phone calls.. The caller ID reads ‘Mom’ in an unforgiving Times New Roman font.
“Hi, Teddy,” she says in my ear. Her voice is chirping, excited, “I have good news.”
The way she says this grips my heart in a steely panic that I can’t shake. “What?”
“I got you a job!” I can sense the smile in her voice as vividly as I can sense the dread filling my gut.
“What job?” I ask, trading carefully through the mom minefield.
“Well, you know my friend, Cindy Wyland? She’s the one who runs that doggie grooming service on Terrace Street. I told her about your little dilemma, and she said they always need help there and she’d be happy to hire you. You know she used to babysit you when you were only two?” she barely comes up for air through the whole speech.
Dog grooming? Dog grooming? Is this what I have been reduced to? I’ll be Theo the dog groomer? I choose not to go to college, and suddenly Cindy Wyland thinks I’m dog grooming material? “Mom,” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Oh Teddy, I know it’s not glamorous and noble like you wanted but it won’t be forever. Soon, you can get right back on track when a new school year starts.”
“Mom, I don’t want to go to school. I want to be out helping people, not stuck here, cutting some freaking mutt’s toenails. I do not think I’m cut out for dog grooming.” I’m getting to worked up, I know.
“You’ll be helping dogs, and if you’re going to be moving out soon, you’ll need the money.” Nothing fazes this woman.
“Mom, I really cannot deal with this right now.” I say as the acute sting of an oncoming headache buzzes in my ear.
“Teddy, you need to call Cindy today because she wants you to come in tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I repeat dumbly, like a parrot.
She sighs, “Yes tomorrow. It’s never too early to start getting a good pay. I will text you her number in a minute,” she pauses, “Bye Teddy, I love you.” She says before clicking off.
I sit down on the barrier, completely immersed in thoughts of myself walking through the doors of the dog grooming place on Terrace dressed in an itchy polyester polo and khaki pants.
I set my phone a careful distance away; afraid of anyone who might call next looking for a bank teller or a sewage cleaner.
Horrible pounding questions hassle my head as I sit there. I do need money; I do want to move out. But dog grooming?
Like a bat out of hell, something hits me from the front with such force that I fall. I fall over the side of the barrier and into the merciless hands of gravity, falling the ten feet from the bridge to the bay, the air cupping my face while I careen downward. A second before I hit the water I realize I’m not alone, a lone figure of a girl falls silently beside me, her curly dark hair floating gracefully above her. She disappears as the icy water swallows me up.
I surface choking and gasping for air. My eyes look around wildly, as I try to grasp exactly what had happened in the last three seconds. The girl had broken the surface too, she was fluidly treading water while a moderate group of people look down on us from the bridge laughing and yelling things to her.
“Yeah Tommy, you keep on laughing. You’re just glad I needed the two hundred bucks.” She yells.
It all hits me then. “Oh my God!” I scream against my will, “What the hell just happened?!”
She turns to me, her eyes the color of Hershey kisses, “What?”
My body is on full out freak out mode. “Are you flipping insane?! These are ocean waters! There are sharks in here!” Shaking, I don’t even wait for her answer; I just start swimming as fast as I possibly can to the shore.
In a matter of seconds I see her gliding effortlessly next to me, her sun browned hands teasing the currents as they propel her forward. She’s in front of me before I even have time to blink. I try to catch up with her, but I don’t get the chance before she’s pulling herself up onto the bank, wringing out her hair.
When I finally make it and plop myself on the grassy waterline I’m panting like mad, even though I only swam about twenty feet. I can feel her eyes on me as I’m dripping with saltwater, but I can’t find the words to say anything. Luckily she beats me to it.
“You’re a slow swimmer,” She says matter-of-factly, squeezing the ends of her tee shirt until the excess water streams from the fabric. Across the front is the bold logo of Greenpeace.
“Where did you get that shirt?” I ask quickly, not even realizing that I’d decided to speak. I’ve wanted to join Greenpeace since I was in diapers.
She looks down at it, the water makes wrinkles across her stomach. “My sister gave it to me. She works with them.”
I can almost detect a twinge of sarcasm in her voice, an edge of bitterness.
She stands there and I don’t know what to say. I feel like a fourth grader, alone for the first time with a girl he has a crush on.
“I’m Ambrosia.” She started, “Call me Rosie though, unless you can handle Ambrosia.”
Rosie. I like it, it suits her. Ambrosia is too much.
She holds her hand down to me and I clasp it before she hoists me up. Our hands are still together when I speak.
“I’m Theo. Theodore for long, or Teddy, but only if you’re my mom.”
She smiles, drops my hand, and turns to hike back up the hill to the bridge. I follow, my gait slow while my shoes slosh in the grass, each filled to the brim with saltwater.
They were waiting for her. Seven guys by my count, all burly with short-cropped haircuts and tight fitting tee shirts.
“Rosieee! That was sick!” says one of them, coming forward. He looks shockingly like Rosie, he has to be her brother.
“Put me down Tommy!” she squeals as he picks her up like she weighs nothing at all. Tommy smiles as her feet return to earth, then he pushes her into two others in his posse. I feel awkward standing there in my soaked clothing dripping onto the concrete as more and more cars pass by every second.
But it’s not long before the feeling’s gone. A guy in a green shirt punches me lightly on the arm. “No harm done fella, right?” he asks with jocularity, “We like to have a little fun now and then.”
I exhale then smile at him, “Nah, no harm done. It was pretty refreshing.” I look around for Rosie, but I don’t see her past the horizon of toned arms and six packs.
Tommy then puts an arm around my shoulder. “You see we knew Rosie needed money, so we bet her,” his voice climbs lower, “My sister’s never been one to forgo a challenge, ain’t that right boys?” He looks out to them. They answer with a chorus of positive affirmations.
“Alright, let the man breathe,” Says Rosie, coming through the crowd. Her chime-like voice fills me with relief. She faces me, but the top of her head only comes up to my nose. “Navy seals in training. They’re hard to manage sometimes.” Her Hershey kiss eyes squint playfully. “Get out of here muscle heads,” she shoos them with a few flicks of her hand.
“Oh! Here’s your phone,” she says handing it to me face down. “You left it on the ledge there.”
I accept it. “Thanks.” I don’t know what else to say.
Rosie turns to join the group with her brother and the other navy seals. I won’t see her again.
After she’s taken about two steps she turns back to me and says quietly, “Don’t settle for dog grooming Theo. Helping people is much more important.” And like that she’s back in her own world again, and I’m in mine, like nothing ever happened.
I sigh and start walking again, the sun already starting to dry the little beads of water that dapple my skin and clothes.
I turn my cell phone over in my hand and press a button to alight the front screen absent-mindedly. A sequence of numbers appears on the screen instead of my preset background. Rosie’s? I turn to look behind me at the group again. Rosie’s small, heart-shaped face is looking at me with a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. I know then, that the number’s hers.
