Page 58 of What You Wish For

Regardless of his mother. Or his dad.

Early on, Clay said to me, “It’s ironic that we’re cleaning plastic off the beach with plastic shovels.”

“It’s a little bit like cannibalism,” I joked.

But Clay thought about it. “It feels more to me like soldiers collecting their war dead.”

“I see that,” I said, and kept shoveling.

In that hour, from Clay, I learned more about the marine habitat of the Gulf of Mexico than I ever thought possible. Here’s a sample of what Clay had to say: “Everybody’s heard about the Kemp’s ridley sea turtles, but did you know the Gulf’s also got leatherback, loggerhead, and hawksbill?” (I did not.) “Did you know that the leatherback has existed in basically its same form since the time of the dinosaurs?” (Again, no.) “Can you imagine what it would be like for your favorite food to be jellyfish?” (Another nope.)

“Spicy!” was all I could think of to say.

Then Clay said something that really shocked me: “Max and I used to go turtle hunting during nesting season.”

“Wait—you and Maxhunted turtles?”

Clay looked up at me. “Not hunting, likebang-bang,” he said. “Hunting likeclick-click.” He clicked the imaginary shutter of a camera.

“Well, that’s a relief.” I gave him a wink.

I had seen more than a few photos of their outings, actually. You had to watch out, or Max would make you stand there while he flipped through every snapshot on his phone.

“There are whales out there, too,” Clay said, pausing to look out at the Gulf.

That didn’t seem right. My image of whales was out in the deep ocean, not the shallow Gulf. This time, I meant it: “Really?”

“Twenty-five different species, in fact. Humpbacks, blues, killers, and a bunch of others. One called a Bryde’s whale that just got listed as endangered. Oh, plus sperm whales.”

I frowned, likeNo way. “Sperm whales? Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“I have never seen a sperm whale around Galveston.”

“Well, of course not,” Clay said gently. “They’re underwater.”

“Fair enough.”

“Plus,” he added, “they’re far out, in the deep parts. But ships used to come to the whaling grounds from all over.” Then he turned to me and nodded. “And we’ve got the shipwrecks to prove it. Four thousand of them, to be exact.”

“There arefour thousandshipwrecks out there?” I said, pausing to look out, like I might spot one.

“Yup.”

“How do you know all this?” I asked.

Clay looked down. “Max.”

Oh. Max.

“Plus,” Clay added then, “I want to be a maritime archaeologist when I grow up. And there’s a lot to learn. So I have to keep pretty busy.”

“I could totally see you as a maritime archaeologist,” I said. I wasn’t 100 percent sure what that was, but I could see Clay as anything he wanted to be.

“Thank you,” Clay said, giving a little bow. He went back to sifting. “Do you know about the shipwreckLa Belle?”

I shook my head.

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