WE’VE GOT MOREEEEEE
——
The nature preserve sits awkwardly along Pacific Coast Highway across from the beach. When we park, we walk over a bridge to reach a trailer with a sign that says “Tours” on it. As soon as we arrive, the door opens, and a guy in his late twenties breezes out as if on a cloud. Joe and I look at each other at the same time, and we both smile knowingly. This guy is one hundred percent Joe’s type. Lanky with a big smile. Overenthusastic. A touch of theater kid. Joe’s favorite.
“Welcome to Bolsa Chica Ecological Reserve! Are you guys here for a tour? Seems like you might not need me,” he says, clearly eyeing Joe Sr. and Linda as if he was looking his Bird Guy-nerd self in the mirror. They’re both wearing hats and have binoculars hanging around their necks. They aren’t exactly newbies at this.
At least, that’s what I assume Bird Guy is referring to.
Papa Joe might be in a wheelchair, but he’s already rolling in the direction of the marsh, clearly not interested in what Bird Guy has to say. Linda follows after him, leaving the three of us alone with Bird Guy. I instinctually take a few steps back, sliding easily into the wingman position I’ve played with Joe a million times before.
“We would love a tour!” Joe says, slotting himself next to Bird Guy as we start off in the direction his parents went.
That leaves me and Xavier following closely behind them.
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