The boy had got the t-shirt from his old man. And his old man had told him he’d never worn it. Said it came with the two-dollar entry fee into the surf contest way back when and it had never fit. Too small.
The boy remembered that much while he worked on a too-big bite of his sandwich. The boy had never been to Bali. But he never forgot how his old man’s eyes always drifted whenever he talked about the place. That distance. And his old man never talked about Bali with his mother around.
The boy had an idea why. He’d found a photograph. In his old man’s things. It was a photo of his Dad with a group of lifeguard looking Bali guys in a small beachside cafe. Thing was, there was a woman in the photo, her slender arm draped over his Dad’s shoulder. Long brown fingers relaxed, comfortable like. Her long black hair falling down his chest. This was no pal. This was something else. Something that spoke of a wet tongue in your ear. She was not looking at the camera, but at the boy’s Dad. The darkest eyes and the whitest teeth the boy had ever seen. And that look in her eyes. Christ, the boy thought, will a woman ever look at me like that?----
• 100% Cotton
• 24s midweight fabric
• Regular fit
• Made in Indonesia