When The Rich Son Falls

Twenty Nine

“Doesn’t this weirdly feel like we’re on a date?” Topher asked with a milkshake in hand and a plate of untouched sliders and quesadilla in front of him. They were sat on one of the tables set up just beside the stalls for people to rest and eat, after they had gone through most of what there was to see. They had played various games—which won Topher a small mermaid keychain, and James a mermaid fridge magnet—made windsocks at the arts and crafts table, socialized with both acquaintances and tourists who came from the hotel, and bought a few items from different vendors. By the time they actually went to get food as James initially suggested, around two hours had passed and the sun was beginning to set.

“A date?” James repeated, like he found the thought of it to be funny. He was sitting across from Topher, with his own half-eaten soft-shelled tacos in front of him.

Those tacos were the main reason Topher had almost finished his milkshake in less than two minutes, for he had asked James for a bite of it to try, and it turned out to be one of the spiciest things he had ever eaten. Only when his tongue was on fire did James reveal that he had told the vendor to make it extra spicy—a fact that he innocently forgot to tell Topher prior to the bite.

The tacos were also the reason why Topher had yet to touch the food in front of him.

“I mean, of course this isn’t one, because this,” Topher pointed at the both of them, “is not like that, but I’m just saying that it kind of feels like one—even if you did try to poison me with your food.”

“I do this with friends every year, though,” James answered with a shrug before he took a bite of his taco. “And you were the one that insisted on having some of mine.”

“Because they looked good and you didn’t tell me that it came from the pits of hell,” Topher argued, looking unamused. “But, seriously, this is a thing that friends do platonically?”

“I’m sure you have friends. You’re popular, aren’t you?”

“I do, but, we don’t really go to places to do things like this.”

“Go to festivals and have fun?” James raised an eyebrow.

“Not this kind of festival, and not the things we did, you know? This is like, something you see in a romantic comedy where there’s a montage of the couple flirting around, the guy winning a prize for the girl, someone eats ice cream and the other flirtatiously wipes it off their face.” Topher dreamily stared off at a distance, as if he was imagining the scenes as he described them; then, a look of realization crossed his face. “Now that I think about it, I guess we didn’t do any of that, so I guess this really isn’t a date.”

James just frowned at him while he ate, slightly confused and amused by how his mind worked.

“And, by the way,” Topher added, “if you were on a date with me, you’d know because it’ll blow your socks off.”

James scoffed at that as he repeated, “Blow my socks off?”

“I mean it,” Topher seriously said. “One time, I brought a girl to Paris for dinner as a surprise for our second date. The other time, I took someone with me on a dinner with Leonard Nimoy—rest in peace—but then he ended up not knowing Star Trek, so he didn’t really appreciate it; but if he did know the show, his mind would’ve been totally and epically blown.”

“I get it. You’re very lavish with your dates, and this isn’t a date,” James said to appease him. He checked the time then looked at Topher’s untouched food. “Should we just wrap that up if you’re not going to eat it? I want to go visit my stall.”

“Yeah, you can have them.” Topher lightly pushed the plate forward, and James proceeded to wrap up the food with the food wrap they were on. He watched as James folded the shiny paper neatly, careful not to let anything spill; and he couldn’t help but admire the amount of care the man was putting into such a menial task, and how his slender fingers moved. They weren’t in the place for it, but all Topher could think of was how attractive James was, even while doing that, and he wondered if he was starting to become crazy because of the humidity and heat.

James glanced up at him for a second then frowned, wondering what he was staring so intently for, but he didn’t say anything about it. Instead, he took the trash on the table and stood to throw them into the bin. Topher followed, and they began to walk back to the stalls.

“What do you like to do, anyway?” Topher asked, continuing their previous conversation. “What’s your go-to move?”

James thought about it for a second then answered, “Not much. Sit by the beach, watch the sunset, read a book and have a picnic. Those sorts of things.”

“On a date or by yourself?”

“Either way.”

Topher dramatically turned his head towards him, like he was offended and horrified by what he just said. “Your idea of a perfect date is to go sit on dirty sand and have tiny particles of it in your food, then sit quietly?”

“It’s a good way to know someone. I know it might be difficult to imagine when you’ve lived a certain way for so long. I mean, I can’t imagine flying off to somewhere in Europe just for a meal. I would’ve been anxious the whole time, thinking about the work I’m leaving behind.”

“There’s more to life than working, James. There’s travelling, partying, fashion shows…” he leaned in to whisper, “sex.”

James gave him a deadpan look. “I know, but I like working.”

“No one likes working. People who do are just saying that because they don’t have anything else going on in their lives.”

“I do,” James said. “The hotel and serving the community give me purpose. I like my staff, the upkeep and admin work, and helping out.”

Topher looked at him, trying to gage if he was being sarcastic or not; but he wasn’t, and that was even more confusing and fascinating for him. “Say more and you just might have a future as a politician.”

James lightly chuckled as they stopped walking. “I’m serious,” he said, then he turned to Bruce who was sitting inside, busy with his phone. “Hey, Bruce.”

Bruce looked up at them and set his device aside. “Hey, Boss and tourist. We’ve got nine volunteers so far, fifteen pledges, and these sold like hotcakes. There’s just a few more left.” He pushed a box and what looked like a sign-up sheet towards James, who viewed them with a smile.

“That’s good news,” he said.

Topher curiously looked inside the box and saw a bunch of crafts made up of yarn and popsicle sticks, looking like they were made by children. “What’s this? Don’t tell me you made these.”

“The kids made them,” James said, taking one out that was supposed to look like a jellyfish and admiring it like it was some sort of priceless art. “They volunteered to make these for the fundraiser.”

“James is spearheading a project to rebuild the school on the other side of town,” Bruce let Topher know. “It broke down when the earthquake hit a few months ago because it’s old. So, most of the classrooms are unusable and the kids have to study outside.”

“Oh,” Topher muttered, finally understanding what the two were previously talking about. “That’s terrible. Can’t you get large corporations to give you money? I know PIC and other companies donate millions every year to different charities.”

“We’ve written emails to different places already, but we have yet to get a response. The local government also doesn’t have enough budget.”

“It’s because we’re not a popular area,” Bruce bitterly added, “so James here has to do everything by himself to get funds and volunteers.”

Topher looked at James, who shrugged to confirm it, then down at the box of crafts. “You say this is all that’s left?” he asked, taking a few bills from his pocket. “I’ll buy them all.”

James stared at him and his money for a second, but Bruce, after getting through his initial surprise, happily took the bills and proclaimed, “And we’re officially sold out! Just in time for the shows.”

James gave an odd look at Topher, before saying to his employee, “We’ll uh, we’ll close up shop. You go ahead. Thanks for helping out, Bruce.”

“Any time, boss. See you guys out there,” Bruce said, and then he was gone.

James and Topher went inside the stall to pack up—well, James began to pack up, while Topher simply sat on a chair and checked out the stuff he impulsively bought. He had no use for those child-made crafts whatsoever, and it wasn’t as if they were made with the greatest of craftsmanship that he could see himself displaying them at home. As he held one of them up and accidentally chipped off one of the poorly glued sequins, he noticed from the corner of his eye that James regularly glanced at him; so, he looked up and asked, “What?” just in time to catch the man looking.

“Nothing,” James said, quickly turning his back to continue pulling down the booth’s cover.

Topher thought nothing of it and instead, said out loud what he had been thinking. “Let me get this right, you’re holding a monthly swim thingy at your hotel for free, you help out at the festival for free, and now you’re also trying to rebuild a school for free?”

James simply nodded as he began to pile up the sign-up sheets.

“Are you an incarnation of Jesus or what?” Topher sat up. “You must be getting something out of it. I mean, there is no such thing as an unselfish act in life.”

“Helping people makes me happy,” James stated. “So, I guess that’s what I’m getting out of it.”

He turned to look at Topher and saw that he had a puzzled look on his face. It was the same expression he made when he first told him about the monthly free swimming event he held in the hotel. James couldn’t blame him; after all, he had probably lived a life privileged enough to be shielded from the realities of the world.

“How about you?” James asked, suddenly curious. “What makes someone like you happy? What helps you get out of the morning, full of anticipation of what the day has in store? What makes your life worth living?”

The blank look on Topher’s face said it all, and despite having millions of money less than the man in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel pity.

“You know what gets up in the morning?” Topher asked with a hint of playfulness in his voice, and James knew that the serious conversation had turned. He sighed and went back to work.

Topher chuckled at his reaction, choosing to ignore the fact that he couldn’t think of an answer to his simple question. It was easier to turn it into a joke instead of facing the reality that he, with all of his money and the family name he wore, had been living a life like he was just passing through. For the longest time, he’d been satisfied with that, but that night at that moment, a small part of his mind was beginning to form a question that he wanted to push back down.

“We should go,” James said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “The shows are about to start in a few minutes. It might get crowded.”

“Alrighty,” Topher smiled as he stood up and followed James out of the stall, but then he stopped and hesitated when he realized where they were headed. “Do we have to go to that area to watch fireworks?”

James followed his line of sight and saw the he was looking out by the beach, where a crowd was beginning to form. “What do you have against it? Come on, it’ll be nice. The sand won’t hurt you.”

“But it’ll get in my shoes.”

“That’s why I told you to wear sandals or flipflops.”

“I can’t carry those well. Besides, I don’t want those foot fetishists to see my beautiful toes,” Topher said as an excuse, looking down at his shoes.

James was about to say something but changed his mind. Instead, he said sarcastically, “The way your mind works is astounding. Come on, or I’ll leave you behind.”

Topher scowled as he watched James walk backwards, waving a hand to beckon him to follow as he stepped down from the concrete and onto the sand. James stopped there and waited.

Topher hesitantly began to walk towards him but stopped at the edge of the border. “Come on, we’ll miss the show,” James said.

“Fine, but I’m not getting into the water,” Topher grumpily muttered, looking out at where the waves crashed.

“No one said anything about going in the water. We’re just going to watch the shows,” James assured him.

Topher looked down at the sand then at James, and with a deep breath, he took a reluctant step forward.