“Do you think Horton was right?” he asked finally.
“About what?”
“That this was all for nothing?”
“You can go crazy thinking of things like that.”
Louis was quiet again. “What are you going to do now?” he asked finally.
“Enjoy the sunset,” Landeta said. He had not moved and his eyes were still closed.
“I mean about work.”
“I don’t know. I haven’t quite figured out the rest of my life yet.”
Louis cleared his throat. “Look, Mel...you know, if you wanted to —-”
“Shut up. You’re fucking up my sunset.”
Louis looked back out at the water.
“You know, memory is a strange thing,” Landeta said after a moment.
“How so?” Louis asked.
“I mean you can’t always rely on it,” Landeta said. His eyes were still closed. “I have a whole library of images in my memory, things I use to remember what something looked like, things I use to make me feel like I’m not groping around in the dark when it gets bad.”
Louis was quiet, looking out at the gulf.
“I guess what I am trying to say,” Landeta went on, “is that you might not be remembering that thing in college all that clearly. Memories can be unreliable.”
Louis looked at Landeta. His eyes were still closed.
“You did the best you could at the time,” Landeta said. “I think that’s all any of us do. When you know better, you do better.”
The waves were a gentle hiss on the sand. A flock of pelicans were flying up the beach toward them, and Louis watched them as they went by in a perfect V, gliding silently over the water. The birds were beautiful, no sound, no effort, moving through their world with not a single wasted motion. Louis watched them until they were gone.
“The boy will be all right,” Landeta said.
Louis looked at him.
“And the baby is alive. You did the best you could.”
Louis leaned back on his elbows on the sand. The sun was hovering just above the horizon and the water and the sky were a blaze of orange, yellow, and red.
“So when you going back to Miami?” Louis asked.
Landeta didn’t answer.
“Mel? When —-”
“I’m not. I’m staying here.”
“Here? Why?”
“I don’t know. I just decided this minute. Maybe it’s because you can’t see the sunset in Miami. Maybe it’s the people here. They leave you alone, let you be.”
The breeze was kicking up. Louis closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath of the tangy salt air. He listened to the breaking waves.
“Tell me what it looks like,” Landeta said.
Louis opened his eyes. “What?”
“The sunset.”
“I’m not falling for that again. I know you can see it, some of it anyway.”
“All I can see is a big blur of color.”
“Well, that’s all it is.”
Landeta laughed as he shook his head. “Christ, you’re hopeless. Tell me what it looks like.”
Louis looked back at the sky and shrugged. “I told you, it’s colorful.”
“Try again,” Landeta said.
Louis took a deep breath. “Okay, it’s red at the bottom and kind of yellow at the top.”
Landeta shook his head. “You can do better than that, Rocky.”
Louis stared at the sunset. “It’s really red and really yellow. Fuck, Mel, you tell me.”
Landeta lifted his face to the sky, his eyes closed. “The clouds are wispy, and it’s like someone tossed a bunch of yellow and pink feathers against a freshly painted red wall. And the sun is laying itself down on the water, giving in, like you would if you were going to sleep and knew you had nothing but good dreams ahead.”
Louis looked at Landeta, then back out at the sky.
“I can’t do better than that, man,” he said.