“Chase, it’s too dangerous. I mean, we almost got caught last time.”
Angie pulled her hands away from Chase as they came to the end of the pier at Turtle Key. Jet skis and windsailers and hoverboards skittered across the turquoise waters between Shelley Beach and the Key. Late afternoon thunderstorms were building off shore and already, veins of lightning could be seen on the horizon.
“Where’s your sense of curiosity…I mean, jeez, Angie, talking dolphins. Ralph and Alice were talking to us. We have to go back…find out who they are…where they came from. Don’t you have any sense of adventure?”
“Not if we get zapped by those bots…or wind up in jail. Don’t you have any sense in that thick head of yours? Doesn’t breaking and entering mean anything to you…you must have heard it before.”
They headed back up the beach, avoiding the pulpy mass of jellyfish and rotted tree limbs and other debris washed up on the tide. Angie stepped through the sand carefully…this stretch of beach is starting to look like a landfill, she said to herself.
“Oh, yeah, sure, of course there’s a small risk…I can’t say that’s not true. But we did it before…as long as we stay away from the bots….actually, I have an idea about that—“
Angie was firm. “No. Understand? I’m not breaking in to the aquarium again…I don’t care if they turn out to be Santa Claus and his elves.”
The surf shop came up and Chase knew his dad would have his hide if he took any longer on break. He grabbed Angie by the shoulders and gave her quick peck. “What’s gotten into you, girl? You used to be all for this kind of stuff.”
She let him kiss her, then put both hands on Chase’s broad shoulders. “It’s called growing up, jerk. I have a job…so do you and, by the way, here comes your Dad. I have responsibilities. I want to do well in school so I—“
“What…go ahead and say it: so you don’t wind up working in a T-shirt shack on the beach.” Chase held up his hand when she tried to protest. “I know…I know…I’m supposed to make something of myself…get a job, be a lawyer, a stockbroker, whatever…that’s what Mom always tells me. Hey, did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m actually an explorer at heart, like Columbus. Like Cousteau. People like that. I don’t see me sitting behind a desk, Angie. I just don’t. The world’s bigger than an office. I have to get out, see things, live things. You should too.”
Angie just sighed. Another peck, this time on the forehead; she spied Mack Meyer with a scowl coming up right behind his son, about to do something fatherly, like spin Chase around and quick-march him back to the shop. She smiled and backed away. “Text me later, big explorer man.”
And with that, Chase was lost to the clutches of his father and the two of them headed up through the dunes and the sea oats to the surf shop…and back to work.
Angie went home, knowing she would probably give in anyway. Chase did that to her.