The Wilde Expedition

13. the lighthouse

Copyright © 2015. All Rights Reserved.

〮CHAPTER THIRTEEN 〮

That night I woke up more than once, not just because it was a bit chilly without the heat on, but also because of these awful dreams that plagued my sleep. I came to realize after laying up for so long that it was partially out of guilt. I should have called Mom today—no way, yesterday because it's past midnight. I couldn't stop rewinding events, even past the time I spent in the semi, to the moment that I'd reflected on during the span between Washington and Oregon. There was nothing but humiliation in how easily Ray Beron had duped me. I hated being duped.

And the worst of it was that, because I hadn't called Mom, Beron was probably still at the resort acting oh-so innocent with his perfect eyes, his perfect quiff, and that godforsaken smile. I bet Rick walked up to him and said, "Did you do it?" and Beron probably said, "Why would I ever-? Emma was the love of my life, I'd never do anything to hurt her!"

Okay, maybe not the last part. But still.

Just thinking about it made me ground my teeth together, and being angry made it ten times harder to get back to sleep. I probably slept a total of four hours, so Gavin would have most likely had better use of the mattress than I did.

I could hear his soft, even breathing and that seemed to be the only way I could get to sleep. Just listening to the rhythm of it numbed my thoughts, until, of course, he snored or something, because then that just wrecked the rhythm.

In the morning, when the sun broke through the curtains and turned the inside of the Volkswagen a brilliant turquoise, Gavin woke up, hopped out of the van, and stretched. I felt the salty sea air enter the van and sink onto the skin exposed on my face. Overall, I felt dewey, like I'd just spent the night in a camper, but it was a humbling type of dew that rejuvenated me from the number of hours I didn't sleep.

It took me a while to realize that Gavin had closed the driver's door, locked it, and left. I didn't know where he went, or what he was doing, or why he left in the first place, so obviously, I got a little worried. By the time I realized it, he was long gone and chasing after him would have been pointless, so I just unlocked the trunk doors and opened them up. They gave me a view of the high-stretching hills across the road, with all their rocky surfaces, and the lines marking periods of life like some universal calendar.

Universal. What an odd term for something worldwide. Naturally, we were only a small part of the universe, and suggesting every part of it would understand was rather egocentric.

In the midst of my philosophical thoughts time passed, and so as one might expect, Gavin found his way back within that span of time, only this time, he came bearing two white bakery bags.

"You're awake!" he shouted, holding the bags up nice and high as if I couldn't already see them.

"Yes, I am, and so are you," I said. He chuckled, his smile endearing and comforting all at the same time. In the distance, I could hear the waves crashing into shore, continuous and constant, like Gavin's deep-sleep breathing except when he snored. "Where'd you go?" I asked as I accepted one of the two bags.

"A little place I call heaven. It's a cafe with pastries and little goodies. I would have gotten you coffee or something, but I wasn't sure what you liked," he told me, and so as I peered into the bag, I found an entire assortment of pastry items.

I could have eaten the entire thing and it wouldn't have made a difference. My stomach was rumbling from the day I spent without a single bite to eat.

As we ate, Gavin sat next to me on the edge of the mattress and watched cars roll by on the road. I licked my fingers after eating a glazed donut and leant back on my elbows. "How'd you sleep?" he asked me, keeping his eyes ahead of him.