Flush (21 page)

The sky was already turning rosy as we raced toward the west side of the islands, where we’d have the best view. Mom’s sunglasses blew off under the Indian Key Bridge, but she told Dad to keep going. We didn’t have much time.

The bay was even smoother than the oceanit looked like pale blue silk. We stopped at Bowlegs Cut, drifting out through the markers on a hard falling tide. Frigate birds soared overhead, and a pod of dolphins rolled past us, herding mullet.

In the distance, somewhere beyond the Gulf of Mexico, the sun was dropping through a coppery and cloudless heaven. None of us dared to say a word, everything seemed so crystal-still and perfect.

Dad edged closer to Mom, and she leaned against his shoulder. Abbey was kneeling in the bow, aiming her camera as the last molten slice of light dripped out of sight.

I sat there dangling my feet in the ripples, watching the day fade away. I was hoping that wherever he might be, Grandpa Bobby was enjoying the same sunset.

When the flash of green came, it lasted for only a magical flick of timeso brief and brilliant and beautiful, I was afraid I’d imagined it.

But then I heard my father say,

How amazing was that?

So excited, he sounded just like a kid.

This is a work of fiction. All names and characters are either invented or used fictitiously. The legend of the green flash, however, is well known in the Florida Keys.