"I can't be afraid anymore. Meet me here again," he whispered in his ear. The crowd of people watched as Manny's flatulence skimmed him across the water like a schooner, that smile on his face. Hank's heart beat loud in his own ears, but surely they'd see each other again. His leg hurt like hell and his vision was growing blurry. He was in desperate need of medical attention.

6 months later…

Hank signed the last of the paperwork and waved goodbye to the nurse at the desk. It was good to be functioning again, but it was also weird. He still sometimes felt the leaves brushing his face, or the weight of the makeshift wig on his head. The bright, white walls of his hospital room had been the oddest of all after the greens and browns of the woods. There was a dull ache in his chest that the doctor's dismissed as a psychological symptom of his ordeal, nothing a little time in civilization wouldn't fix. But it wouldn't go away. It sat like a weighted blanket on his heart.

Though they hadn't spoken much since that day on the beach, his dad had come to pick him up. Things were awkward between them. Mr. Thompson had been accommodating about Manny at first, finding it quirky and funny, but now he always changed the subject when Hank tried to talk about what had happened. They loved each other, but some things were just too much. He stared out the window during the drive, remembering buses and the weight of Manny's cold hand on his.

Everyone said it was better to forget. The sooner he let his mind focus on the now, the better for him. But no one could possibly understand. He wanted the weird to be normal. Or for what's normal not to be weird. He wanted the before, that feeling and understanding and freedom he could grasp if he only let himself be honest. The now was stifling. He was back to hiding what was natural. No one wanted to hear his farts.

"We're here." his dad said, giving him a look.

"Thanks, dad. For everything." Hank stepped out of the station wagon and grabbed a backpack and duffel bag from the back seat.

"Stay safe. And call me once in a while." he said as he hit the gas and continued down the road.

Hank took a deep breath and smiled at the familiar scent of wet earth, green trees, and animal dung. The hike took longer than he expected, but soon the sound of the waves could be heard in the distance. For a moment, he told himself he was being crazy. There was no way Manny would be here after all this time. Maybe it had all been a delusion, like everyone said.

But as he saw the smoke between the trees, he knew. The sight of the wrinkled suit and dark hair made him choke a little.

"You're later than I thought." Manny's voice sounded a little gruff, but so familiar the weight on his heart pressed down.

"Sorry. My leg was mangled pretty bad."

"I figured something out while you were gone." The fire crackled at Manny's feet.

"It wasn't Sarah I was in love with..." he cleared his throat.

"Yeah. I know." Hank interrupted. Saying it aloud was too embarrassing.

"Why did you interrupt me?" Manny turned around. His pale face, with a droopy left eye and wide mouth, was wet from the ocean spray. Hank shrugged, and took a seat next to him in front of the fire.

"You shouldn't have. I want to say everything I'm thinking." he reached for Hank's hand. For the first time in months, the weight in his chest lifted and his heart felt light and normal again. Oh, so that's what it was.