This is a snippet from a different place in the narrative. It is an absolutely true story.
At night I take a walk. I am loving the walks. First they were to find a little boy and his sense of wonder and amusement. Walking in the dune grass watching the fireflies. One night I came upon him sitting right there. On the “porch step” to the old office. Where 16 year old girls seemed like the coolest Goddesses who benevolently ruled the world from their cloud. That 9 year old boy was sitting right there. In the 10 o:clock noon day sunshine of the Summer of Love. Plain as day that dark night some 39 years later.
But there he was. The next day they came in and boarded that office up. The big glass front was and is now newly cedar shingled over. Good thing I got there when I did.
It was as if I could see the boy. But it wasn’t as if he were visible. It was more that I felt his presence, I could smell the sweet mildew of his souring bathing suit in need of a shower. 9 year old boys stink in a higher register. Adolescent boys stink of hormones. Adult men reek of pheromones and sex sweat. 9 year old boys don’t have a clue as to why 16 year old girls are “Plus Altra” they just know they are.