A Place Among the Stars

The guide led me off the beach and on to the dock. It jutted into the ocean and at every few feet, a little round hut sat over the turquoise water on a private dock of its own. I peeked over the handrail into the clear water as we walked. A school of clownfish floated alongside at a Sunday pace. “Even the fish are on vacation,” I joked.

He chuckled as we stopped at the last hut on the dock, pushing furthest into the ocean. He dangled the key from his fingers. “Your room, sir.” The sun bounced off his white shirt, waving like a flag in the breeze.

The gold “333” on the door matched the numbers on my keychain. At a glance, the bamboo roof made the hut appear like a chubby face wearing a straw hat. “Thank you.”

“If you have any questions or concerns, there’s a phone beside the bed connected straight to the front desk.”

I laughed to myself. Concern, that’s the last word that came to mind. “Sure thing.”

I pushed open the door and the first thing I noticed was the glass bottom floor. It ran like a runway, six feet wide from the front door out to the deck. I tip-toed over it like a frozen pond until I made peace with its stability. Against the left wall was a white couch with a painting of the island hanging over it. To my right sat a comfortable-looking bed wrapped in silk white sheets. I ran my hand along the smooth wood canopy frame as I stepped outback. There were two white beach chairs and spiral stairs leading into the water. I sat down, took off my shoes, and dipped my feet in. Silver minnows swam around my toes and ankles, shimmering like camera flashes under the sun. Offshore was a

smaller mountainous island, jagged and green stretching into the powder blue sky. I could get used to this, I thought.

Water splashed in the distance as I closed my eyes and breathed the sweet air. I pressed a hand to my brow and blinked my vision into focus. A few yards off, a man was back stroking his way toward my deck. The minnows dispersed from my feet as he approached the stairs. He looked as surprised as I must’ve when he turned over and saw me staring down at him. He had light blue eyes and wavy gray hair with a beard to match.

His eyebrows scrunched into his nose as he looked up. “Who the hell are you?”

I backed up the stairs and onto the deck. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“What’re you doing in my room?” He snapped.

“This my room. Maybe you got turned around on your swim.”

He made his way up the stairs and snatched a keychain off one of the beach chairs. “See, 333. My room.” His tone spiked with impatience. “Call the guide, he’ll clear it up.”

I showed him my identical keychain. “Who do you think gave me these?”

“Motherf—“ he shook his head and stomped past me, grumbling to himself.

I turned to face him. “Listen, I just got here so you can imagine how I felt when some old guy comes swimming up five minutes later, claiming my room to be his.”

He threw his head back. “Some old guy,” he laughed. “I’d still take you with one hand behind my back and give you the first punch.” He ruffled his hair with a towel and threw it to the floor. “Yeah,” he said, a lightbulb flashing above his head. “Throw em’ up. Winner takes the room.”

I waved him off. “I’m not fighting you for my room.” I brushed by him and walked over to the nightstand by the bed. The line rang once before he answered.

“Yes,” I replied. “Room 333. There seems to have been a mix-up. There’s someone assigned to the same room—Mhm, yes, he’s here right now—Mhm—mhm...” I sighed at his closing remark. “Thanks...”

The man folded his arms and tilted his chin up as I placed the phone back in the cradle. “And...”

“I don’t know. He said something about fine print and double booking. Long story short, we’re stuck till check-out and it’s non-refundable.”

The vein in his neck pulsed as his blood pressure jumped. “You’re taking the couch.”

“How’s that?”

“I was here first.”

I wasn’t happy with his logic, but couldn’t argue with it either. The same went for the whole situation.

I slid my key into my pocket and went for a walk. I should’ve known it was too good to be true. I was under the impression that it was all-inclusive, not that it also included a stranger in my room. That’s what I get for bargain booking at the last minute.

I picked up a flat rock and skimmed it over the water. I walked and tossed rocks until the sun dripped with orange and pink clouds drifted along the dusk blue sky. I looked back and saw that I got so far down the beach that I couldn’t see the huts anymore. Good thing my feet left a trail of breadcrumbs unless high tide got to them first.

I retraced my footprints and made my way back just as night fell. There it was, “333” on the door. On the other-side awaited a grumpy Hemingway look-alike. I hesitated to put my key in the door. I got that nostalgic feeling that my mother was waiting up so she could lay into me as I came home after curfew.

The room was dark and the bed was empty. The floor glowed like an aquarium, making blue wave patterns on the ceiling. I walked out to the deck and took a seat, noticing that he was sitting in the other chair. “Oh, sorry,” I said, rising to my feet.

“Nah, go ahead. Sorry for earlier, kid. Took me by surprise is all. I get a little spicy when I’m startled.”

“It’s alright...now what?”

“Now,” he said, getting up and going inside. He emerged with a bottle of whiskey. “We drink.” He laughed as he sat down. “They got the good shit.” He uncorked it and took a swig. “Never did get your name.” He passed me the bottle.

I took a gulp. “John Fox.”

He jabbed a stiff hand between our chairs. “Duke Daniels.” He had a firm shake. My dad always said you could tell what kind of a man he was by the way he shook your hand.

He shook out his wrist. “Firm grip. Tell a lot about a guy by the way he shakes your hand.”

That made me smile. “Something my old man would say.”

“Sounds like a smart fella.”

“Sure was,” I laughed.

He paused and took another pull. “What’s got you here anyway?”

“That’s personal...”

“What’s more personal than sharing a room with a stranger on an island? We’re both thinking it, might as well get it all out...”

“You first...”

He smirked at my stubbornness. “Cancer. Figured now or never...”

“What kind?”

“Kind that gives you a few weeks to live.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, taking the outstretched bottle.

“It is what it is, kid. I just thought this was a party for one until you walked in. That’s my only complaint about all this, no offense.”

A laugh sniffed from my nose. “You and me both. How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know,” he said, dropping his tone. “Having a hard time settling in.” It felt like I was in a vacuum, devoid of sound other than the waves whispering along the shore. “Why‘s that?” I asked after a moment of silence.

“Ah, just dad stuff...” he paused. “Worried about my daughter.”

“How old?”

“Twenty-five.”

I chuckled. “I’m twenty five. She tells you not to worry about her, right?”

He smiled back. “All the time. Never does stop feeling like she’s still my little girl though.” He cupped his hand, bounced it up and down. “She used to fit right there.” He smiled at his hand and cleared his throat. “How about your folks? You close?”

“Dad died in a car accident some years back. I was in the car too...”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, pal. What happened if you don’t mind me asking?”

I’d never said it out loud, but no better time than to a stranger with one foot in the grave. “Parents had a fight. I called him to pick me up from my friend’s house. He’d been drinking. I should’ve driven us home.” I paused. “Always felt like my mom blamed me for it. I don’t know...she just looked at me differently afterward. Kinda just drifted from each other after that. Things just slid downhill

after that; the girl left me, job fired me, getting evicted from my apartment at the end of the month, aaand now I’m here.”

“It’s not—“

“My fault? I’ve heard that before.”

“I was gonna say...it’s not her responsibility to fix your guilt. From where I’m sitting, it doesn’t seem like your mom’s the one who's doing the blaming, kid.”

He had a point. I took a sip and passed it back to him.

“Needed to get away from the pain, huh?”

“Yeah...”

He spat off the deck. “Coward.”

I swiveled in my chair. “Excuse me?”

“You rolled over and took the easy way out.” He threw the cork out to see and huffed. “What I wouldn’t give for just a minute more than I have. You selfish prick. Times get tough and poof, you’re gone.”

“What about you? From where I’m sitting, it seems like you’re the one who can’t deal with their own reality. Your daughter is gonna be just fine without

you...”

He didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

He rang his fingers through his hair and pushed out a breath. “I know she will...it’s just hard to let go. She’s the one who suggested I come here in the first place.”

“See,” I took the bottle from his hand. “Maybe it’s your turn to listen to her for once, dad.”

He sighed and poked up at the stars. ”I don’t know...I just don’t wanna disappear I guess.”

I looked up too, focusing on the brightest and star in the sky.

“That star, see it?”

“Which one?”

I thrust a finger at the one flickering off to the right of the gold crescent moon. “One next to the moon doing Morse code.”

“Yeah?”

“My mom used to say they were souls finding their place in heaven. When they stop flickering it means they’ve settled in. When my grandpa died, she pointed up that night and told me the twinkly one was him. After the funeral, she pointed at a bright and steady one and said, ‘that’s him, see, he made it.’ I

used to wave up and said goodnight to him for years until I learned the truth.”

He passed me the bottle. “And what was that?”

“The twinkling effect is just refracted light hitting speed bumps as it travels through our atmosphere on the way down.”

He smiled, closing one eye as he tried to pinch the star between his fingers. “I like the way your mom said it better.” He took a swig and pushed out a long exhale. “Anyway, what’s the harm in keeping a spot for your grandpa in the sky?”

“Because it isn’t real.”

“Neither is Santa Claus but try telling that to a toddler without any proof.”

“Maybe that’s our problem,” I said. “Believing these lies until the truth rips us out of its arms and heaves us into the cold.”

He laughed and snatched the bottle from me. “Were you a theater kid?”

“Why?”

“Little dramatic don’t ya think?”

I chuckled back. “Yeah, so what’s your take, Walter Kronkite?”

“Shoot, I don’t know. It’d be nice to be thought of as a star I suppose. Better than your bullshit about the speed bumps.”

There was a pause. Gentle waves kissed the shoreline and left a thin white foam along the sand the water dragged back out.

“You ever think about what they’d say at your funeral?” I asked.

He smiled. “ I know what they’d say...’He was the most hilarious and handsome man I’d ever met.” He stopped nodding his head and cocked it to the left. “Except if my ex-wife is the one talking,” he laughed.

“What would she say?”

“He screwed like thunder but he came like lightning.” Deep dimples creased high up on his cheeks and swooped down into a smile like a horseshoe. Our laughs skipped across the moonlit water as we stared up at the star scattered night.

He smiled at me with tears in his eyes. “Why don’t you head back and make things right with your mom. You don’t belong here. You got a lot more living left to do.”

“I think I might... Thanks, Duke. And about your daughter...speaking from experience, she loves you and she knows you love her.” A knot came into my throat. “It’s okay to let go. I know a thing or two about holding on,” I chuckled.

“You’re alright, kid.”

I smiled back at him. “You ain’t too bad yourself, Duke.”

We reminisced down memory lane, laughing and crying out way into dawn.

He stared out at the approaching morning. “Time flies, huh?”

Sure does, Duke. I think you’re right, by the way. I’m gonna head back. It was a mistake to come here.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think there’s such thing as mistakes, son. Just lessons to be learned.”

A golden glow outlined the mountain peak as the sun crested the horizon. A brilliant white beam cast across the ocean. Duke stood up, stretched his arms, and tipped his imaginary hat. “Ciao. And kid...”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” With a final glance over his shoulder, Duke splashed into the water and back-stroked his way into the light.

A loud beeping sound rang in my ears as I watched him go. The light got brighter as the sun floated higher, soon I was blinded and the steady beep became deafening.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

I gasped awake and my eyes jolted open. Above me, there was a fluorescent light and IVs sticking out of my arms. I squinted over at the door, “333,” and the painting of the island on the hospital wall.

A nurse accompanying the doctor in the white coat rushed into the room. “Who is it, John, the overdose?”

“No, Dr. It’s Mr. Daniels.”

I glanced to my left and reached back the dividing curtain. In the hospital bed beside mine, there was Duke, as handsome as ever.

His daughter unclasped his hand and held back her tears as the doctor failed to resuscitate him.

She leaned over and whispered, “It’s okay dad, you can go.”

After they carted him out, I stood up in my empty room and looked out the window. The yellow crescent moon was close enough to grab, and the star off to its right was the brightest among the sky.