Second Nature (His Chance 2)

“It was the only place left I could think of. None of your friends knew where you were, but you’d mentioned your former roommate Scottie, so I thought you might have gone to see him.”

“I tried,” he said, “but I found out he moved out of state over a year ago. The two women who live in our old apartment told me that.”

We ended up at the coast, so I pulled into a parking space right on the edge of Ocean Beach, facing the Pacific. Unlike most other coastal cities, San Francisco sort of turned its back to the ocean, focusing instead on the bay. Maybe that was because it was always cold and windy here, a beach much better suited to long walks in a sweater than sunbathing.

On this particular Friday in March, the beach was almost empty with the exception of two surfers heading into the water and a woman walking her dog. When I opened the door, the crisp, briny smell of the ocean rushed in. The cool air felt good, so I left the door open while I went around to see what was in the back of the SUV.

I knew at a glance that Vincent was a family man. In addition to a case of water, there was a snack tote, a blanket, and several toys. I searched the bag and selected a couple of things, then went around and opened the passenger door. Gabriel looked so lost as he turned to face me.

I unfastened the seatbelt and put the blanket over him, then handed him a bottle of water and said softly, “Drink this, Angel.” He took a few sips while I removed a wet wipe from its pack. As I gently cleaned the dirt from his face, I asked if he was hungry. When he nodded, I unwrapped a soft granola bar and fed it to him piece-by-piece.

After he finished, I took the empty water bottle from him and set it aside, and then I smoothed his hair as I asked, “Can you tell me what happened, Gabriel?”

His left hand slipped out from under the blanket. He was making a fist, and he held it up to show me. Then he uncurled his fingers and revealed a little baggie. I didn’t have to ask what it contained. I’d seen enough heroin in my life to recognize it at a glance.

I felt like I’d been punched in the chest, and I asked, “Did you use any of it?” He shook his head, and I took it from him and shoved it in the pocket of my jeans. Then I went back around and climbed in the driver’s seat.

We both just sat there for a while with the doors open, as the wind stirred our hair and we stared out at the ocean. It finally occurred to me that a lot of people were worried about Gabriel, so I sent a quick text to Sawyer and Roger letting them know he was alright. I knew they’d spread the word from there.

As I tossed my nearly-dead phone onto the dashboard, Gabriel asked, “Who did you message?” I told him, and he asked, “Did you tell them about the drugs?”

“No, I only told them you’re safe. A lot of people were worried about you when you didn’t come home last night.”

“I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

“I know.”

He burst into tears a moment later, so I climbed over the console and joined him in his seat. He crawled onto my lap and buried his face in my shoulder, and I held him and just let him cry. It took a while, but eventually the tears lessened, then stopped. I reclined the seat partway and rubbed his back as he took a few shaky breaths.

When I thought he was calm enough to answer, I asked, “Can you tell me what happened last night?”

“I fucked up.” I kept rubbing his back as I waited for him to continue. Finally, he said, “I was mad and hurt when I walked away from you on Castro Street. I know you were just trying to help, but you did things behind my back, and I just never expected that from you. I always thought you and I would tell each other everything, not keep secrets.”

“I’m so sorry, Gabriel. I know I was wrong to make decisions for you and do things you specifically told me not to. For what it’s worth, I learned my lesson and I’ll never do that again.”

He was quiet for a while before saying, “Even though that was upsetting, it’s not really what made me spiral. As I walked down Market Street, I started thinking about how much that shop must have cost, and how much trouble you and Roger had gone through. It started to feel like this huge obligation, like I had to do this no matter what, because so much money had already been poured into it.