- WhiteBird -

- Chapter tweleve - Our Dreams

A salty breeze flowed through the thick grasses that grew between the rocks just before the shore line, traveling past the weathered stone where it pushed warmly against Karr.

He sat on the edge of a dirt road, looking over the churning ocean, dying slowly with the calm of evening. The sky was saturated with oranges and reds. A thin trace of purple just above the dark tree line.

Two brown pelicans glided soundlessly over the waters surface, a far way out, and sloped upwards slightly to land on a lone green buoy.

Karr had found himself in the same spot many times, caught in the same moment. Every time he revisited the beach, it was the same as always. Same two birds, same glow in the sky, same salty breeze.

He felt so alive in the moment, but he knew inside it was only a vision he had so cleverly created.

"You're right" Karr said to the lapping waves, his voice devoid of any emotions.

He heard a shuffling noise from inside him, but Karr only continued to watch how the red sky twinkled slightly against the waters surface.

His door opened, and then slammed shut, but the car remained untouched near the beach.

Karr continued to watch as the sun died, and yellow stars began to appear above, the half moon behind a milky stretch of clouds.

The pelicans slapped the water with their feet, taking off and veering out of sight, the glassy water rippling slowly.

Only when the night had completely arrived, when all traces of the sun and day had gone, did Karr finally shake away the beach, and found himself sitting in the hotel parking lot, underneath the same tree. It was late afternoon by then, a long shadow stretched over him from the sparse oak, the sun peering just over the roof of the hotel.

Karr watched as the twinkling rays of sunlight streaked past, striking the dry powdery dirt.

For a long moment he only watched as it inched downwards, like a ball sinking in the thickest of honey. Karr studied the sun until he forced himself into a deep sleep mode, shutting out the world around him, until he was shroud in darkness, where not even his dreams could penetrate.

The sun was shining dangerously through Casey's glass door, and he yanked the black out curtains harshly, snatching them into place.

The thick velvety cloth was balled in his hand, and he came to rest his head against the covered door, warm from the dying sun.

He hadn't talked to Karr all day, not until they had gotten back that morning, and all of Casey's anger had just been replaced with loneliness. He did not think of himself as cruel or rude, he didn't want the car to think of him that way either, but hurt dwelled inside him, the same hurt he had learned to forget in years past, and it all just came bubbling back up to slap him in the face as if to say; 'You think I was every gonna go away?'

Lashing out at Karr had been a mistake. So had going to that bar, and perhaps even coming to Mexico. He was afraid all his hopes of his father, loving or not would come crashing down, but Casey understood it was out of his hands. He couldn't control anyone but himself.

He sat slowly upon the bed, his arm wrapped around the dark wood post, and he looked solemnly at the covered doors, in which no light seeped through. He felt the exhaustion swirl dully through his body, and when Casey laid back against the made bed, his eyes drifted closed as if they each weighed a thousand pounds, and he felt his dreams stir within him.

The night was cold, but the sand beneath his feet held the heat from the day long gone. His hand reached down to touch the smooth black surface, giving his body a chill even though it was warm to the touch. He traced his hand along the long curve of the hood, his thumb brushing against the seam between the hood and fender.