The Wanderer. Робин Карр

with your friends?”

      The kid looked up and laughed. “Dude, they are not my friends!”

      “Who are they, then?”

      “Teammates. And that’s all.”

      Cooper took another two steps down and sat on a step even with the kid. “You throw the last game or something?”

      The kid gave him a very impatient look. He held on to the ball, all slimy with dog spit. The dog sat and panted happily, full of expectation. “You wouldn’t understand,” the kid said, finally throwing the ball.

      “Wanna try me?”

      The kid shot him an angry look. All defensive, hurt, full of impotent rage, and Cooper thought, Holy shit—that’s me! About twenty years ago or so...

      “I’m the new kid,” he said. “Just moved here. Just in time for football, which was my fatal mistake. I wasn’t supposed to get on the team, much less make touchdowns. The asshole on the beach, he’s a senior. Team captain. He was counting on three things this year—being all-conference, being homecoming king and getting laid by every cheerleader in Coos County.”

      Cooper had a strange reaction to that. First of all, being the new kid felt all too familiar to him. Getting in fights, though long ago, was fiercely memorable. Homecoming king—not Cooper! And cheerleaders? When he was in high school, he hadn’t been lucky enough to even date one, let alone anything more. He thought about Mac’s daughter, whom he’d met when he’d had dinner with the McCains a few nights ago. Eve was a lovely, virginal, delightful sixteen-year-old cheerleader who no one should be allowed to touch. Just to be ornery, he asked, “How many of those things are you going to rack up?”

      The kid looked at him incredulously. “Seriously? Like I could ever get all-conference or get a date. Come on.”

      “The kid who shoved you—who is he?”

      A bitter laugh. “Jag Morrison. Crown prince of Thunder Point. And yes, that’s short for Jaguar, if you can believe anyone would name their kid that.”

      “Shew,” Cooper said, shaking his head.

      “Yeah.”

      Cooper let that settle a little bit. Obviously there was some very bad blood there. It could be about anything—about this kid being a better ball player, about a girl, about anything. Finally Cooper asked, “Your dog have a name, kid?”

      He laughed without humor. “Are you ready for it? Hamlet. It’s Danish.”

      “You could use a tougher dog.”

      “Tell me about it,” he said.

      “How about you? Name?”

      “How about you?” he shot back.

      “Sorry,” he said, putting out his hand. “Hank Cooper. People just call me Cooper.”

      The kid relaxed a little. “Landon Dupre.” He shot a glance at the teenagers on the beach, who were not going anywhere. It occurred to Cooper that they were looking for a second chance at bullying and intimidating Landon.

      “Nice to meet you, Landon. So, what do your parents have to say about this new-kid issue you’ve got going on?”

      “I don’t have parents.”

      “Ah. So who do you report to?”

      “Report to?” he mimicked with a mean laugh. “Gimme a break.”

      “Look, I’m trying to figure out, in the nicest possible way, if your parents back you up, if you’re a street urchin, in foster care or just plain contrary.”

      “I live with my sister,” he said. His voice dropped, as did his chin. It was either a measure of respect or misery.

      “Ah, the girl in the red slicker.”

      Landon looked up at him. “You know her?”

      “I know the dog—she’s had him out on the beach a couple of times. He’s hard to miss, big as a horse.”

      “And dumb as a stump.”

      “Now, you shouldn’t put him down like that,” Cooper said. “You might damage his self-esteem.” Then grinned at the kid. “Why’d you get him?”

      “My sister got him for me. He was a rescue—his owner had to deploy. It was her idea of some kind of consolation prize because she moved me right before my best season ever.”

      The dog was back, dropping the ball, sitting expectantly, saliva running out of his jowls. “Hamlet, here, he has a drooling issue.”

      “It’s horrible. I don’t know what was wrong with a good old German shepherd.”

      Cooper laughed in spite of himself, happy he was not this kid’s guardian. “Why’d you move here?”

      “Divorce.”

      “You’re divorced?” Cooper asked facetiously.

      Landon’s head snapped around at Cooper and, seeing his smile, melted a little bit. “She got divorced, couldn’t afford so much house, wanted a smaller town so she could keep track of me better—which I so appreciate, if you can understand. And she didn’t enjoy running into the ex. Now I get that, but really, do we have to move to Podunk, Oregon, where the natives just want to kick the shit out of me every day? Seriously?”

      “Have you told her?” Cooper asked. He almost looked over his shoulder to see who was talking. This was the weirdest interaction he’d ever had. He sounded like his father.

      The kid’s chin dropped again. “I’m not hiding behind my sister, dude. Besides, she’s got her own troubles.”

      Cooper, who had big sisters, absolutely got that. But all he said was, “Is this ‘dude’ thing almost over? Calling everyone dude? I never caught on to that....”

      “Well, dude, you might wanna catch up.”

      “Or you might,” he said. “So, anyone back you up? I mean, anyone? Teachers? Ministers? Corrections officers?”

      “Funny. You’re a real comedian.”

      “I am, huh. But I’m serious, everyone needs a wingman. I got in fights when I was your age. I don’t know what it was about me....”

      “Want a second opinion?” he said.

      Cooper laughed at his sarcasm. “Okay, never mind. I think I’m catching on.”

      “Ben,” Landon said. “Ben was my friend.”

      Stunned, Cooper was silent. Then he put a hand on Landon’s shoulder. “He was my friend, too. I’m sorry, man.”

      “Yeah. Well. Whatever happened? It shouldn’t have.”

      He gathered strays, Cooper thought. He gave Rawley work, protected Landon and made sure Gina’s Jeep was running. Who knew how many others he helped? He protected the birds and fish. He had a lot of friends and no real friends. He took care of the town in his way, keeping this little piece of beach safe.

      Five

      The weather turned stormy not long after Landon finally made his escape across the beach to the town. The bait shop could get pretty lonely during a storm. Cooper guessed that with the wet Oregon weather, there were plenty of nights like this. So he showered in the trailer, then took the truck the short way into town, across the beach, and decided it was time to hit Cliffhanger’s for a meal.

      It wasn’t crowded, which came as no surprise. He had watched the fishing boats come in before the rain clouds and the last of the sunlight left the bay, and he supposed those guys were happy to be home, eating a hot meal in front of a warm fire. There was a large hearth in the restaurant that could be seen in the bar and it made him think of Jack’s place in Virgin River. A lot could be