Daisy and Mom and I got into the canoe and paddled down to Pirates Island.
We dug with spades at the base of a tree and found a little chest full of chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil.
Davis had met us down there, with his little brother, Noah. I remembered digging until my spade hit the plastic of the treasure chest,
and allowing myself to feel like it was real treasure, even though I knew it wasn’t.
I was so good at being a kid, and so terrible at being whatever I was now.
I walked along the whole edge of the island until I found Daisy sitting on an uprooted barkless tree that had beached here as some flood receded.
I sat down next to her and looked into the little pool below our feet, where crawfish were darting around.
The pool seemed to be shrinking—it had been a drier summer than usual, and hotter.
“Remember that birthday party you had here?” she asked. “Yeah,” I said.
At the party, Davis had briefly lost this Iron Man action figure he always had with him.
He’d had it for so long that all the decals had been rubbed away; it was just a red torso and yellow limbs.
He’d really freaked out when he lost it, I remembered, but then my mom found it.
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