“Yeah,” Theodore mimicked in a deep voice that made Hank grin. The kid took hold of the other side of the bucket handle again as they walked up the beach.
Hank watched Theodore try to ape his walk. “Say, kid?”
“Hm?” He missed a step, then looked up.
“I’ll take this.” He shifted the bucket to his other hand.
The kid frowned. But before he could say anything, Hank nudged him in the arm, then took off running. “I’ll race you back!” He called out over a shoulder.
Theodore charged after him. “You cheated!”
“Nah. You just gotta give the oldest buddy a head start.”
* * *
“Hey,Smitty! We brought you something new to burn!” Hank chuckled and walked through the door of the hut with the kid in his wake. He looked around the inside.
There was a low moan from a lump in the dark corner.
Hank set down the bucket of oysters and crossed the room. “Smitty?”
“Go soak your head, Hank Wyatt.” She was huddled in a knot in the corner, her knees pulled against her chest and her head turned away from him and resting on her knees.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying not to shoot you.”
“Ah, yeah. The clothes.” He gave another wicked laugh. “Snuck those suckers right out from under your nose, sweetheart.” He looked at her clothes. “I see you found them.”
“But not for hours,” she said weakly, then looked up at him.
Hank looked at her and froze.
“You got sunburned,” the kid said.
It was an understatement. She was sunfried.
Her face. Her neck. Her eyelids and lips and cheeks. Her arms and hands were all bright reddish pink. She had little tiny white creases in the corners of her eyes. It was one helluva burn.
She looked down at herself and muttered, “I don’t need whatever you have in that bucket. I already found something else to burn.”
He felt about as low as a person could. He wanted to say something. But the right words escaped him—if there even were right words for a time like this. So he just stood there, not knowing what to say.
She shifted and tried to get up, then gasped.
“I’ll help.” He reached out.
She turned too fast and flinched, her eyes moist with pain. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I guess I have.” He put his hands on her waist and lifted her up.
She only moaned once.
“Can you walk?”
She nodded and waddled like a wind-up toy for a few feet.
“Smitty...”
