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'
On
the
beach
,
’
she
said
,
something
forcing
her
to
look
away
.
'
A
boy
.
I
see
him
on
the
beach
.
Maybe
thirteen
.
He
lives
here
.
’
'
And
what
did
he
say
?
’
'
He
said
you
’
d
come
.
He
said
you
wouldn
’
t
hate
me
.
He
said
we
’
d
be
okay
here
,
and
he
told
me
where
the
rain
pool
was
.
He
looks
Mexican
.
’
'
Brazilian
,
’
Case
said
,
as
a
new
wave
of
symbols
washed
down
the
wall
.
'
I
think
he
’
s
from
Rio
.
’
He
got
to
his
feet
and
began
to
struggle
into
his
jeans
.
'
Case
,
’
she
said
,
her
voice
shaking
,
'
Case
,
where
you
goin
’
?
’
'
I
think
I
’
ll
find
that
boy
,
’
he
said
,
as
the
music
came
surging
back
,
still
only
a
beat
,
steady
and
familiar
,
although
he
couldn
’
t
place
it
in
memory
.
'
Don
’
t
,
Case
.
’
'
I
thought
I
saw
something
,
when
I
got
here
.
A
city
down
the
beach
.
But
yesterday
it
wasn
’
t
there
.
You
ever
seen
that
?
’
He
yanked
his
zipper
up
and
tore
at
the
impossible
knot
in
his
shoelaces
,
finally
tossing
the
shoes
into
the
corner
.
She
nodded
,
eyes
lowered
.
'
Yeah
.
I
see
it
sometimes
.
’
