Page 29 of On the Beat

“I have my ways,” he says mysteriously. “Actually, Paulo told me.”

I assume my best friend had a good reason for doing so. “What can I help you with?”

“I want to put together a charity concert for the victims of the storm.” James rubs at his temples, clearly distraught. “I flew him back to El Nido and I’ll be looking after him now. Eddie had to see her drown. He hasn’t… He hasn’t been the same since.”

“No, of course not. I’m sorry for your loss.” I fold my arms across my chest.

“Thank you.”

“So, a charity concert, you say?”

“Yes, I’ve been assembling a group of local singers, but I thought you might like to pitch in since you happen to be in town. Having an American artist would help us gain more global attention, and, of course, garner more donations. Are you interested? All proceeds would go to help victims of the storm, as well as towards the Palawan orphanage.”

“Of course.” I glance over at Eddie. It finally clicks where I know him from—I saw him at the beach. His mother was alive only days ago. Now, she’s gone. How quickly the trajectory of our entire lives can change. “I’d be more than happy to help you, Mr. Dilag, with whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” His tired brown eyes crease at the corners when he smiles at me. “I appreciate it more than you know.”

Eddie looks up from his Hot Wheels car for the first time since I’ve entered the room. “Tito James, who’s that?”

“This is Ryder Black. He’s a singer from America.”

Something on Eddie’s face tells me he remembers me. Tears well up in his eyes suddenly, and he throws down the Hot Wheels car with a startling sob before pushing himself up off the floor and running out of the room.

“Eddie!” James gets out of his seat and runs after him. “Please excuse me, Mr. Black, he’s quite young and still grieving—”

“Of course.” I can’t imagine losing my mother at such a young age. Then, unsure of what else to do but not wanting to stay in that cold office, I follow him out of the room.

Eddie dropped his race car in front of the office door, leaving James to sidestep it neatly and me, to… well, to have a moment much like the burglars inHome Alone. I step on the Hot Wheels car and go flying.

Blinking rapidly, wincing, and touching the rapidly forming lump on the back of my head, I groan.

“Ryder!” The pattering of footsteps along the hardwood floor reaches my ears. At least the hallway is empty, except for Eddie and his uncle. “Is he dead? Did I kill him?”

James offers me a hand to get back on my feet. I accept, dusting off my jeans and grimacing.

“Tito Ryder, are you okay?” Eddie looks up at me, concern in his brown eyes. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to leave it there…”

“It’s fine. I’m barely even hurt.” I say. I bend down to pick up the race car and hand it to him. “Here, you can have it back.”

He shakes his head, sticking out his bottom lip as he folds his arms over his chest. His t-shirt today bears a Spiderman emblem. “I don’t wantitback.”

“What do you want, Eddie?” James ruffles his nephew’s hair.

Eddie pulls away, looking halfway between a toddler about to throw a tantrum and a teenager trying to get away from his parents’ display of affection. “I want my mom back.”

“Eddie…” James crouches down so that he’s eye-level with his nephew. He puts a hand on the small boy’s shoulder.

Eddie sobs, his reddened eyes filling with tears again. “It’s my fault… I could have saved her…”

“What’s he talking about?” I ask, trying to speak in as gentle a tone as possible. But this isn’t a child crying over a skinned knee or because his brother threw his toy in the pool’s deep end. This is real grief, the kind that you never get over. “I know his mother is… gone, but what happened?”

James rubs the nape of his neck, fixing his gaze on a spot on the wall.

I realize my misstep. “I’m sorry… you don’t need to answer that. It was too personal.”

Eddie’s sniffles die down, and he wipes his face with the sleeve of his shirt, tugging it over his hand. “Aquaman’s mom is dead, too. It’s because I said I was Aquaman… now my mom is dead.”

Little kids’ logic doesn’t always work the way one would expect. There is a certain rule to it, a certain set of parallel lines, simply ones that lead in different directions than mine would. “Eddie, that’s not what happened.”

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