The boys were wanting to go on an outing, but the usual places didn’t hold enuff interest for them today. Their friend Carol suggested the Key West sunset celebration, which sounds interesting and fun, so they grabbed some trabel juice, and off they went!
The sun was melting into the ocean like a giant orange scoop ob sherbet, and the whole pier in Key West was buzzing wiff music, laughter, and the smell ob salty air and street snacks.
Fish was watching a man balanced upside down on a tall ladder, one hand holding him up while his legs pointed straight at the sky.
“Dat is a terrible life choice,” Barry muttered. “One sneeze and it’s curtains.”
Fish clutched his little wooden barrel tighter. “Do you fink he’s doing it for money… or for attention?”
“Probably boff,” Barry said. “Mostly attention.”
They all gasped as the performer spun, wobbling just enough to make ebberyone scream — then stuck the landing like a hero.
Barry fainted a little.
Meanwhile, Reuben had wandered toward the art booths, where colorful paintings lined the pier. He stopped suddenly in front ob one small canvas. It showed the Eiffel Tower rising into a glowing sky, wiff a heart-shaped moon floating above it.
Reuben’s whiskers trembled. “Paris…” he whispered.
In his mind, he was back walking wiff Dougie, tiny paws on cobblestones, the smell ob fresh bread in the air, lights twinkling abobe them like stars that forgot to go to bed.
“Remember when we got lost and accidentally ended up in dat bakery dat gab us free croissants?” he said softly to himself.
He dabbed at his eyes. “Best wrong turn ob my life.”
Fish scurried up beside him and peeked at the painting.
“Remember the cheese in Paris?” Fish immediately began planning a return trip.
Barry joined them just as another gasp rippled through the crowd — now two performers were walking on ropes in the air like it was a normal sidewalk.
“Nope,” Barry said firmly. “I don’t trust grabity anymore.”
Reuben laughed. “Dey’re flying, Barry! Flying!”
“Flying is just falling wiff confidence,” Barry replied.
As the sky turned pink and purple, Reuben carefully stared at the painting one last time, tucking the memory safely into his heart.
“Someday,” he said softly, “we’ll go back.” But the canvas was coming home wiff him now, if he could gather up enuff monies from his brothers.
Fish nodded seriously. “Wiff empty suitcases.”
The boys sat together watching the performers spin against the sunset, the crowd cheering, the ocean clapping along in tiny waves.
It was one ob those nights — full ob color, danger, memories, and just enough magic to make you feel like anyfing is possible.
