Am I alone? The important question. The man walked along the shadowy beach, pausing occasionally to listen for following footsteps. There were none, but when he walked, he felt as if the echoes of his footsteps were slightly misplaced. Maybe if I sit down to “tie my shoes” they’ll be daring enough to come closer, he thought. Wait, no. What if they’re armed? The man stopped suddenly and turned around. This time, soft footsteps, not echoes, kept going. Out of the darkness pattered a little boy. He was not armed. In fact, he had no arms at all.
The boy regarded the man curiously. The man’s mouth was open in confused awe.
“Hi there,” he said. The boy started at his words, eyes wide. The man continued, softly, “What’s your name?” The peculiar little boy tilted his head, turned around, and ran back down the gloomy beach with an awkward gait, obviously the result of missing limbs. The man followed him on impulse, easily matching the boy’s speed with his long strides.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me,” he whispered, “I’m going to make sure you’re okay.” He shuddered, remembering having once said a similar sentence to his own son. It may have been five years ago, but some wounds never heal.
The man snapped out of the past, just quickly enough to avoid stepping on the boy, who had lain down in the sand. The man sat down and leaned back, following the boy’s gaze up to the sky, where the stars glowed softly. Tears distorted Orion, making him dance and sway.
“What’s your name?” he asked again. The boy’s gaze never left the stars, but his lips parted, and a small, quivering voice answered, “I am Leo.”
The man gasped audibly and sat up, staring at the boy, shocked. Leo had been the name of his first and only son, the love of his life. But his son, his Leo, had passed years ago in a tragic accident involving a beautiful resort and a treacherous rip tide.
It was a warm day, and the waves crashed softly on the sand. Clouds dotted the horizon, but none seemed threatening. Seemed. Leo had been playing in the water for nearly an hour when the wind shifted slightly. The scents of the ocean were replaced by the odors of the city, and the clouds edged in closer, encircling the quiet beach. The man had turned his gaze from the ghost crabs digging through the sand to the ocean, intending to call his son back to solid ground. But the water was ominously empty, save for the limp body of a six year-old, floating farther and farther out to sea.
“L-Leo?” the man stuttered, “I used to have a son named Leo.”
The tiny, armless boy turned his head toward the man. For only the second time, he spoke. “You still do.”
The man’s eyes lit up with the sparkle of long-lost love. He reached out to embrace his son, but Leo, his Leo, stood up, stepping out of his father’s reach. He walked closer to the ocean, until the waves lapped hungrily at his toes.
The man cried out, tears glistening in his eyes: “Leo, I haven’t forgotten about you. I never have. I haven’t moved on- because I love you.” Tears began to pour down his cheeks, each salty drop forming a new path to join the saline ocean. Leo looked back at his father, the only one who had ever loved him. The only one who he had ever loved. ‘I love you too,” he whispered, “but you cannot hold onto me forever.”
With that, he was gone. A few steps into the ocean, and the ravenous water took him once more.
The man, alone once more, looked to the stars, hoping to wake from a terrible dream, hoping to wake up to the smile of his son. The stars shifted, and a new constellation appeared: Leo, the lion. Forever among the stars.