Chapter 23: No Mask

The boat shop dock ran forty feet out into the bay.

At the end of it was a bench that hadn't been there before.

It was cedar, still pale, with the saw marks sanded off.

It had room for two people, and a low back that curved.

Cal stood next to it in his work shirt with his hands in his pockets.

The sun was going down behind the water, and the whole bay was orange.

"You made this," I said.

"Three nights. I used the end cuts from a staircase job."

"You were supposed to be sleeping."

"I was sleeping." He ran a thumb along the arm. "Mostly next to you, and then I'd get up."

I sat down.

He sat on my left, and the cedar still smelled like the saw.

For a minute we looked at the water together.

A pontoon boat went by far out, and its wake came in slowly and knocked against the pilings.

"I want to ask you something," said Cal. "I thought about doing it a lot of ways."

"How many?"

"Eleven. One had a drone."

I put my hand over my mouth.

"I don't own a drone," he said. "I don't know why I thought of it."

"Cal."

"None of them were right. They all had something in them. A prop, a crowd, a camera."

He turned on the bench to face me.

"The last time you stood in front of me with a lot of people watching, I was wearing a paper face."

"I remember."

"So I have nothing in my hands."

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