Anchor

Kai was walking up and down along the side of a cliff.

It was not as precarious a situation as it seemed. For one thing, the path was paved, and separated from the roiling waves by a sturdy stone wall. Signs depicted a flailing stick figure diving off the cliff, with an X over it and the word CAUTION, dutifully pointing out the obvious.

Still, Kai felt a little as though they were falling. Spiraling, perhaps, or scrabbling for purchase. But they had no handholds, no tethers, no solid ground, and every time they thought back to last night, it was as if they plummeted fifty feet further through open air.

Tao had texted them periodically, imploring them to come home, saying that Ma was beside herself, that everyone just needed to talk. I’m sorry, Kai had texted back, because they did feel sorry for their brother. Then they realized how ominous that sounded, and hastily added, I’m safe. They turned off their phone immediately after.

That had been almost midnight. Now it was daytime again, maybe nine in the morning or so. Kai had followed the path all the way to the end and back six times, and their legs ached. Ma's words echoed in their head.

They occasionally passed other people walking in the opposite direction. Tourists, mostly. Kai searched their faces, looking for a friendly reassurance, some kind of acknowledgement. But everyone looked away. Kai wondered if it was obvious they'd been crying.

A skinny white boy skimmed toward them on a skateboard, weaving deftly around passersby. His appearance flashed by--sandy hair, acne-ridden skin, straight teeth when he grinned and said “Hey,” greeting Kai, apparently. They whipped around, incredulous that this teenage stranger was addressing them, but he was already skating away. 

Weird. Maybe he had mistaken Kai for someone else. But they didn’t exactly have a common looking appearance. They were still in the clothes they’d been wearing when they stormed out of the house last night, pleated skirt and pink converse and leather jacket. They had wiped off their tear-smeared makeup, though, and the wind had whipped through their short hair enough that they were sure it was completely disheveled. 

Kai felt an inexplicable sense of panic as the boy neared a bend in the path, about to disappear from view. “Wait!” they cried out.

He skidded to a stop, and turned. “What’s up?”

They caught up to him, panting. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why . . . I just . . . do I know you?” 

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“Do . . . do you know me?”

His features grew solemn. “Look me in the eyes, traveller,” he commanded. He pulled them off the path to a grassy area on the side, and they both sank to the ground facing each other.

His irises were solidly blue, unwavering. After a few seconds of holding his gaze, Kai began to feel unnerved. Then his eyes crinkled up in laughter.

“I’m just messing with you,” he said. “I like to be friendly to cool people. You might not ever see them again, you know?”

“I . . . oh. Thank you?”

“You’re welcome?” he said, mirroring their questioning tone. “I’m Encore, by the way.”

“On . . . core?” Kai had never heard that name before.

“Yup, with an E. As in, y’know.” He leapt up from the ground and burst into loud applause, whistling and cheering. “Bravo! Encore!”

A passing jogger gave him a befuddled glance.

“You’re doing great!” he called after her, and plopped back down.

“But how do you manage that?” Kai asked.

“What?”

“Talking to strangers.”

“It’s easy. I mean, I’m a stranger, and you’re talking to me.”

“Ordinarily, I’m not this bold. My exhaustion has overridden my anxiety. Besides, we’re not strangers. We just met.”

He looked at them sideways. “You realize I don’t even know your name?”

“Oh.” He was right; they hadn’t introduced themself yet. They were surprised they hadn’t noticed how one-sided it had been. It had just felt natural, the amount of space this boy consumed. “Ah. Well, I’m Kai. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Encore laughed. It wasn’t a mean laugh, just a purely joyful one. 

“I love the way you talk.”

“Come again?”

“Exactly!” Taking in their concerned expression, he added, “Oh, no no no, it’s not a bad thing. You just sound like you’re from an old book, like East of Eden or something.”

Kai shook their head. “That is . . . oddly specific.”

“Oh, yeah,” Encore said. “I have to read it for summer reading. It’s like a gazillion pages so my brain fucking breaks every time.”

"You know what Encore kind of sounds like to me?"

"What?"

"Anchor," they said.

He laughed again. "Don't give my mother any ideas."

Kai felt a jolt of pain at the word mother.

"She tried to keep the 'core' part in the family, with naming us and stuff," Encore continued. "Like, my dad was named Corbyn, my sister's name is Coral. Et cetera."

"I like that," said Kai. "Chinese families do a similar thing sometimes, passing down a certain character."

"I used to hate my name," he said. "When I was little, Mom explained to me what an encore was, how it meant you wanted them to play more, a repeat performance. I was so into that idea at first. But then I realized no one actually does it. It’s not a magic word, or a replay button that will start the show over from scratch. It’s just a gesture."

"So what changed?"

"My dad died. I guess my name felt close to him after that."

"Oh," said Kai. It came out as a sigh. "I'm so sorry. You didn't have to tell me that."

He gave a small smile. "I know. But you're trustworthy."

"How could you possibly know that?"

He shrugged. "Because you're honest, I guess, so you must be trustworthy."

Kai thought about that. Then they said, "I don't think we're acquaintances anymore."

"We're not?" Encore said.

"I think we should be friends. Would you like to be my friend?"

He grinned. "I want to be everybody's friend. But especially you. Why do you think I said hi to you in the first place?"

Kai took a deep breath. "Wonderful. So, as my friend, there is something you should know about me."

He looked at them. Right in the eyes again, clearly listening intently.

“I’m nonbinary,” Kai said.

He nodded, and kept nodding. “Cool, cool.”

“Do you . . . do you know what that means?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so. Does it mean you go by they, them, theirs?”

Kai felt an inward surge of relief. “Yes, exactly. I mean, not all nonbinary people use those pronouns, but I do.”

“Okay, sick. I’ll make sure to keep that in mind when I tell everyone about the new friend I made on the Cliff Walk.” He absentmindedly spun the wheels of his skateboard and added, “By the way, you are mad stylish, dude.” He looked up. “Wait, are you cool with being called dude? I call pretty much everyone that, it’s not-”

“Dude is fine,” Kai interjected.

Encore smiled again. His fingers rapidly tapped against the board. "Anyway, yeah. You remind me of Coral. My sister. Just, like, not giving a shit."

"I most definitely give a shit," they said regretfully.

"Well, you don't show it, which is kinda the most important thing." He hesitated. "Sometimes I think I care too much about being liked."

"Seriously?"

"Sometimes it's like, other people . . . they just tolerate me. Caring is hard sometimes."

"Mmm," Kai said pensively. "Enthusiasm is vulnerable."

"Dude, yes. One hundred percent."

"But it's also contagious, you know."

"Really?"

"I was actually having a pretty terrible day. And it sounds cliche, but you may have, um . . ." Their voice trailed off into a whisper.

Encore raised his eyebrows, a grin breaking out on his face. "What was that? Didn't quite hear you."

"You may have restored my faith in humanity."

"Yes!" He leapt to his feet and ran to the wall, leaning out over it so that his voice echoed on the rocks below. "Kai's faith in humanity: restored!"

Kai covered their face with their hands. They were warm all over. "Only by the tiniest bit," they amended.

Encore spun back around. "I'll take it," he said.