Mr. Boromir’s Babby Sitting Service for Young Sprogs Continues 21
“ Tak me ta the ocean, Boro me lad... “ Harper slurred as he pushed open the door of the Cock ‘n Bull Pub on Lincoln Blvd. The night air hit him like a slap in the face. “ Hoo! Lord Lantern o’ Jesus...whar are we? “
Boromir propped his friend up under the arm and the two of them walked slowly over to the car.
“ Hoo! Right, we’re in Santee Monica...Oh weep fer me Moother Monica..we’re all wayward sons eh? Boro? Eh? “
“ ‘Arper son, yer ramblin’, git in the car. “
“ Ocean! Yah promised me the ocean fer fuck sake! “
“ Reet. Joost a minute. Relax will yah? It’s only a few blocks from here. “ Boromir drove to the pier and parked as close as he could for a Saturday night. Half-carrying Harper made his knee hurt worse than usual and the Guinness had worn off an hour ago. He jabbed his friend in the ribs to wake him up, in the 5 minutes it had taken to drive over he had fallen into a dead slumber, snoring tunefully. Harper rolled out of the car and landed on his feet.
His face lit up like a child’s. Before him silhouetted against the starry night was the riot of flashing lights, psychedelic amusement rides and restaurants that was the famous Santa Monica Pier. The ferris wheel chimed and spun, children, parents, lovers and hawkers of all kinds strolled the length of it.
“ Look! “ he pointed out. “ Ish the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company. Let’s git some shrimp! “
“ Give over! You’ll be chuckin’ yer guts oot sure as dog ‘as fleas. Besides, it’s closed. “
They walked along and leaned against a railing looking out over the water.
“It’s that beautiful...Boro? “
“ Aye. “
“ Boro...? “
“ Yah Harper? “
“ Boro...”
“ What! “
“ Ayr ye alright, lad? “
“ Aye, Harper. “
“ No...I mean it...we’ve been through a lot t’gither, Tell me yer alright now, lad. “
“ Ahm alright, son. “
“ Tell Everyone Leave Is Cancelled, Eh? “
“ Aye! Fortune favors the brave! “ Boromir said softly. “ 4 Yorks. “
“ Right you are. An’ then Fay...” Harper turned to Boromir with tears welling up in his eyes. “ You’re me best friend in the word...yah know that doont yah?”
“ God, yer droonk man....” Boromir laughed. “ Are thee cryin’ now? “
“ Me back teeth are swimming’! But Boro...”
“ Aye. “
“ Yer me’ best friend... mad as a box o’ frogs, but still me best friend. I would ‘av yah get on wi’ yer life. “
“ Aye. “
They stood arm over shoulder looking out at the ocean, listening to the waves hit the pilings.
