As I sat in my room, trying to focus on The Merchant of Venice, I still pricked up my ears to listen to my truck. I thought that even through the heavy rain, the roar of that engine would still reach my ears. But when I peeked out from behind the curtains—only for the second time—it was suddenly there.

I wasn't expecting Friday at all, but it was far beyond my pessimistic expectations. Of course, there is an element of that syncopal event. Mary seems to have quite a bit of a deal to get involved with that story. Luckily, Jack was tight-lipped so no one seemed to know that Roger was involved. Although, she did ask quite a few questions about that lunch.

"So, what did Roger Wright want to do yesterday?" In trigonometry class, Mary asked.

"I don't know." I replied truthfully. "He never got to the point."

"You looked a little crazy at the time." She tentatively and detoured.

"Really?" I kept my face blank.

"You know, I've never seen him sit with anyone other than his family. It's incredible. ”

"Incredible." I echoed. She seemed a little angry. She impatiently brushed her black curls away—I guess she would have liked to hear something that would have helped her make up a good story to spread.

The worst part of Friday was that I was looking forward to it, even though I knew he wasn't going to be there. As I walked to the cafeteria with Mary and Jack, I couldn't help myself from looking at his table. Alice, Milani, and Ekas were sitting at the table, their three heads together talking. When I realized that I didn't know how long I would have to wait to see him again, I was at a loss to allow myself to be swept into the abyss of melancholy.

At the table where I usually sit, everyone was talking about our plans for the next day. Jack is active again, swearing to support the local weather forecaster who promises that tomorrow will be clear. I've always believed that seeing is believing. But today it's really warmer -- almost 16°C. Perhaps this hike won't turn out to be a complete tragedy.

At lunch, I intercepted several hostile glances from Mesha, but it wasn't until we walked out of the house together that I understood what was going on. I walked behind her, only 30 centimeters away from her sleek silver hair, and she apparently didn't notice me.

“…… I don't understand why Imia" - she smiled contemptuously, mentioning my name - "not to sit with the Wright family from now on. ”

I heard her whispering to Jack. I had never noticed how nasal her voice was, and I was taken aback by the malice in her words. I didn't know her well at all, certainly not so well that she would hate me—or, as I thought, it was. "She's my friend, and she's sitting with us." Jack whispered back loyally, but more or less out of territorial awareness. I stopped and let Mary and Reilis walk in front of me. I don't want to hear it anymore.

At dinner that night, Chuck seemed enthusiastic about my morning trip to Bellingham. I think he felt guilty about always leaving me alone at home on weekends, but it's a habit he's cultivated over the years, and it's hard to get back into it for a while. Of course, he knew the names of all the children who went with him, as well as the names of their parents and, perhaps, their grandparents. He seemed to approve of the plan. I wondered if he would approve of my plan to drive to Seattle with Roger Wright. But I'm not going to tell him.

"Dad, do you know of a place called Goat Rock, or something like that? I think it's in the southern part of Mount Rainier. I asked casually.

"You know—what's wrong?"

I shrugged. "Some of the kids were talking about going camping there."

"It's not a great place to camp." He sounded surprised. "There are too many bears. People usually go there during the hunting season. ”

"Oh," I whispered. "Maybe I misremembered the name."

I almost overslept, but an unusual light woke me up. I opened my eyes and saw a bright yellow light shining through my window. I couldn't believe my eyes. I rushed to the window to take a look, and was sure that it was indeed the sun. Although it wasn't in the sky where it was normally supposed to be - too low - and seemed too far away, it should have been closer. But it's genuine, but yang. There was a ring of clouds on the horizon, but in the middle of the sky, a large patch of blue was clearly visible. I lingered in front of the window, staying as long as I could, lest I disappear again as soon as I left the blue.

Jack Pascal's "Perfect Travel Store" is just north of town. I've seen the store, but I've never stopped – I don't have much demand for equipment for long periods of time outdoors. In the parking lot, I recognized Jack's Chevrolet Jumbo off-road and Moore's Toyota Corolla. When I pulled over to theirs, I saw the gang standing in front of the Big Mac. Ike was there, with two boys who had been in class with me. I'm pretty sure their names are Jason and Ken. Mary was there too, standing between Reilis and Mesha. Three other girls were standing with them, and I remember falling on one of them on Friday. As I stepped out of the truck, the girl gave me a contemptuous look and whispered something to Mesa. Meisha shook off her ears of corn and looked at me contemptuously.

So, it's going to be a part of these days.

At least Jack was happy to see me.

"You're here!" He shouted happily. "I said it would be sunny today, right?"

"I told you I would come." I reminded him.

"We'll just have to wait a little longer for Leo and Michael...... Unless you've invited someone else as well. Jack added.

"Nope." I lied a little, hoping I wouldn't get caught. But I'm also looking forward to a miracle and Roger here.

Jack looked satisfied.

"Do you want to ride in my car? We drove this minivan with Leo's mom on it. ”

"In your car, of course."

He laughed happily. It's easy to make Jack happy.

But what won my heart was that the number of people solved the problem. Leodore brought two men with him, and suddenly every seat came in handy. I managed to fit Mary into my own with Jack, and the three of us sat in the front row of the Big Mac together. Jack would have been happier, but at least Mary had stopped.

It was only fifteen miles from Victoria to Bellingham, and the lush green forest stretched almost all the way along the road, and the wide Alborne River meandered through the forest twice. I'm glad I sat by the window. We rolled down the windows - this giant stuffed nine people into it, it would be claustrophobic - and I tried to soak up as much sunlight as I could.

When I was still in Victoria for the summer, Chuck and I went to the beaches around Bellingham many times. So the 1.5-kilometre-long crescent-shaped first bay is no stranger to me. It's still beautiful. Even in the sun, the water is still a dull gray, covered with snow-white foam, hitting the gray reef-strewn shore. The island rises above the steel-like calm sea of the harbor, surrounded on all sides by cliffs and rocks, topped with steep and tall cedar trees. The only narrow stretch of sand along the beach is real sand, which gradually transitions into thousands of smooth reefs. From a distance, all the reefs are exactly the same grey color. Only when you get closer will you notice that the shade underneath each stone is a different color: brownish-orange, sea-green, lavender, blue-gray, dull gold. The shoreline is dotted with driftwood, which has been blown to a bone-white by the sea, some stacked on the edge of the forest, and some alone on the beach, just out of reach of the waves.

The bitter wind whistled across the waves, cold and slightly salty. Pelicans float on the waves, flocks of seagulls and a long eagle hovering over their heads. The clouds still surrounded the sky, threatening to invade at any moment, but so far the sun was still brave enough to shine through that blue sky.

We walked down the beach, with Jack leading the way, leading us to a circle of driftwood. Obviously, this circle of driftwood has served hordes of travelers like us before. There was a well-placed campfire covered with black ashes. Ike and another boy—I think his name is Jason—collected a number of broken pieces of driftwood from the dry pile of wood at the edge of the woods, and quickly built a rickety wooden frame on top of the years of ashes.

"Have you ever seen a driftwood campfire?" Jack asked me. I sat on one of the bone-white benches, and the other girls gathered together, gossiping excitedly, and sat on the other side of me. Jack was kneeling around the campfire, using a lighter to light one of the thinner branches.

"Nope." I said, watching him carefully place the flaming twig on the rickety wooden shelf.

"Then you're going to love this -- look at the color." He lit another branch and placed it side by side beside the one he had just had. Flames began to engulf the dry wood blocks rapidly.

"That's blue!" I said in surprise.

"Because there's salt. Beautiful, right? He lit another piece of sawdust, put it on the shelf where the fire had not yet burned, and then came and sat down next to me. Thankfully, Mary sat on the other side of him. She turned to him, trying to get his attention. I watched as the strange blue-green flames crackled into the sky.

After half an hour of rambling small talk, a couple of boys thought of walking around the tide pool. It's a real dilemma. On the one hand, I love tide pools. When I was a child, I became fascinated by them. Once upon a time when I came to Victoria, they were the only things I longed for. On the other hand, I often fall into tide pools. It's not a big deal when you're only seven years old and you're with your dad. But it reminded me of Roger's plea - don't let myself fall into the sea.

It was Meisha who prompted me to finally make the decision. She didn't want to go hiking, and she was obviously wearing shoes that weren't suitable for hiking. With the exception of Reilis and Mary, most of the girls decided to stay on the beach as well. I waited until Moore and Ike were commissioned to stay with them, and then silently joined the group that went hiking. When Jack saw me join, he gave me a big smile.

The hike wasn't too long, although I always hated being in the woods because I couldn't see the sky. There was a strange incongruity to the green light of the forest and the laughter of the young men, it was so eerie and ominous that it didn't match the light-hearted laughter around me. I had to watch every step I took, beware of the roots below and the branches on the top, which were quickly left behind. Eventually, I broke out of the emerald fence of the forest and saw the reef-strewn shore. It was at low tide that a tidal river surged past us and rushed towards the sea. Along the gravel-strewn coast, a shallow pool of bays never dried up and is always full of life.

I'm very cautious and try to stay away from these little pools. Others were much more daring, jumping over the reef and landing on the edge of the rocks accurately. At the edge of one of the largest tide pools, I found a stone that looked very solid, and I sat down cautiously, fascinated by the fish tank at my feet. Clusters of colorful sea anemones swayed endlessly in the water, and starfish stuck motionless to the stones and crevices. A small black eel with white markings shuttles through the green water and grass, waiting for the return of the sea. I was completely immersed in it, leaving only a small part of my mind still thinking about what Roger was doing right now, trying to imagine what he would say if he was here with me.

The boys eventually felt hungry, and I stiffened up and followed them back. This time I tried to keep up as I made my way through the woods, so naturally, I fell several times. I was left with some shallow abrasions on my wrists and the knees of my jeans were stained green, but it could have been much worse.

When we returned to First Bay, there were more people left behind. As we got closer, we could see the shiny straight hair and copper-colored skin of the newcomers, a group of teenagers from the reservation, who had come here to make friends.

They had already begun to distribute the food, and as we walked into the driftwood circles one by one, Ike introduced us by name, and the boys were impatiently demanding their share of the food. Rileys and I were the last to arrive, and as Ike said our names, I noticed a boy younger than me looking up with interest while sitting on a rock by the campfire. I sat down next to Reilis, and Jack brought us sandwiches and a row of sodas for us to choose from. At that moment, the boy, who seemed to be the oldest in the group, began to babble on and on about the names of the other seven people who had come with him. The only thing I could hear was that one of the girls was also named Mary, and the boy who had noticed me was named Kendil.

Sitting with Reilis was relaxing, she was the kind of person who could give rest to those around her—she didn't think she needed to fill every silence with small talk. As we ate, she left me to think freely without interruption. I was thinking about how fragmented the time I had spent in Vidonia, and sometimes time flew by and blurred everything in my memory, with only a few simple images standing out, clearer than the others. However, at other times, every second seemed so important that it was deeply seared into my heart. I know exactly what caused the difference, but it bothered me even more.

As we had lunch, the clouds began to move forward, stealthily eating away at the blue sky, threatening to rush to the sun at any moment, leaving a long shadow on the beach and making the waves dark. After they had eaten, they began to disperse in twos and threes. Some walk down the beach to the edge of the waves, trying to jump over the undulating waters to the reef. Others gathered together for another tide pool expedition. Jack—Mary followed him like a shadow—got up and walked towards a shop in the village. A few local kids went with them. Other children joined in the hike. By the time they were all gone, I sat alone on my driftwood, with Mesa and Moore occupying the Walkman who I didn't know who wanted to bring with me. Three teenagers from the reservation sat around the campfire, including the boy named Kendil and the oldest boy who acted like a spokesperson.

After a few minutes, Reilis walked with the hikers, and Kendil strolled over and sat down in her place beside me. He looked to be only fourteen or fifteen years old, with smooth, straight black hair tied up to his head and a rubber ring tied around the nape of his neck. His skin was beautiful, smooth as silk, and russet in color. His eyes were dark and deeply embedded in his high cheekbones. He still had a little bit of baby fat on his chin. Overall, a pretty handsome face. However, my good impression of his appearance was ruined by the first words he spoke.

"You're Arymia Rien, aren't you?"

It's like history repeating itself on the first day of school.

"Imia." I sighed.

"I'm Kendir Allen." He held out his hand in a friendly manner. "You bought my car."

"Oh." I said with a sigh of relief, shaking his smooth hand. "You're the son of Blue Allen, and I should remember you."

"No, I'm the youngest child in the family - you probably remember my sisters."

"Chelsea and Leonay." I remembered immediately. When I got here, Chuck and Blue used to leave us together so we could keep us busy while they fished. We were both too shy to go any further and become friends. Of course, when I was eleven years old, I finally let my anger out and put an end to my fishing trip.

"Are they here?" I looked at the group of girls by the sea, wondering if I could still recognize them.

"No," Kendil said, shaking his head. 'Chelsea got a scholarship to study in Washington state. Leonay is married to a Samoan surfer who now lives in Hawaii. ”

"Get married, wow." I was taken aback. The twins are just over a year older than me.

"So, what do you think of that truck?" He asked.

"I love it, it's doing so well."

"Yes, but it's really slow." He burst out laughing. "Chuck was so relieved when he bought it, and my dad wasn't going to let me build another car when we had such a great car as our family."

"It's not that slow." I protested.

"Have you ever tried driving at more than 96 kilometers per hour?"

"Nope." I admit it.

"Good, don't do that." He grinned with bared teeth.

I couldn't help but grin at him. "It behaved pretty well in an accident." I defended my truck.

"I don't think even a tank can destroy this old monster." He laughed again and agreed.

"So, you're going to assemble the car?" Impressed by this, I asked.

"That had to be when I was free, and it was only a partial assembly. You don't happen to know where I can get a brake cylinder for a 1986 Volkswagen rabbit, do you? He added jokingly. He has a kind, husky voice.

"I'm sorry," I laughed. "I haven't seen anything like this lately, but I'll keep an eye out for you." It's like I know what it is. He's such an easy person to talk to.

A big smile flashed across his face, and the way he looked at me was clearly the kind I was learning to discern. I'm not the only one noticing this.

"You know Imia, Kendil?" Maysa asked from the campfire, and I think she spoke in a tone that could be called rude.

"We've known each other, so to speak, since I was born." He laughed, smiling at me again.

"Awesome." Her voice didn't sound like it sounded like it was great, and her dull dead fish eyes narrowed.

"Imia," she said, calling my name, staring carefully at my face. "I was talking to Moore just now, and it was too bad that no one from the Wright family was here today. Doesn't anyone want to invite them? Her expression of concern looked fake.

"Do you mean Dr. Peter Wright's family?" Before I could fight back against Mesha's provocation, the tall old boy suddenly asked. He was really closer to a grown man than a boy, and his voice was very deep.

"Yes, you know them?" She asked, with a hint of superiority, turning her head to look at him halfway through.

"The Wright family isn't going to come here." His tone had the hint that the topic was over, ignoring her question.

Trying to win back her attention, Moore asks Mesha for his opinion of a CD in his hand. She was distracted and stopped continuing the subject.

I looked at the boy with a deep voice, shocked by what he was saying. But he had looked away, staring at the dark forest behind us. He said that the Wright family would not be here, but his tone hinted at more information - they were not recognized, they were forbidden to exist. He made a strange impression on me again, and I tried not to pay attention to it, but it didn't work.

Kendil interrupted my musings. "So, has Victoria driven you crazy?"

"Oh, I'd say that's a conservative description." I grimaced. He grinned knowingly.

I still pondered the brief comment on the Wrights, and then it struck me. It was a stupid plan, but I couldn't think of a better way. I sincerely hope that young Kendil doesn't have much experience with girls so that he doesn't see through my apparent sympathy, other intentions.

"Do you want to go for a walk on the beach with me?" I asked, trying to look up from under my eyelashes, as Roger had done. Of course, I knew I couldn't do the same thing as Roger did, but Kendier was willing enough to jump up......