You have been provided with enough currency in the top desk drawer to afford food and the necessities of life. It will replenish if ever depleted. A cell phone is also provided there for your use.

Lastly, you will find some general tips for a smooth Journey and requests for helping the next Journeyfin have an easy transition to their time on land in the computer in the living room. Feel free to peruse those documents at your convenience.

We eagerly await your return at the conclusion of your Journey. Or, should you choose to stay on land, we wish you a lifetime of good tides.

Blue Blessings,

Your kin of Pacifica

I crumple the paper in my fist and throw it against the wall. Then I immediately feel bad for wasting the paper and try to smooth it back into shape against the bar countertop.

“Looks like you’re having mixed feelings about being here,” Sean says, popping up behind me. I shove the note in my pocket.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Well, the movie that always gets me out of a funk is—” He’s cut short by a loud buzzing. He reaches in his own pocket and pulls out his phone. “It’s my mom. I’ve gotta go. Family dinner night waits for no one. Except for me. If I’m not there.”

Annoyance tingles through my gut like a jellyfish. Sean’s mom better not make a habit of getting in the way of my Journey.

“Anyway, thanks for today,” Sean continues. “Maybe you’re the kick in the ass I need to finally feel normal again. Where’s your phone? I’ll give you my number.”

I walk to the living room desk and pull open the top drawer. Beside a pile of dollars is my new phone. I pass it to Sean and he swipes across the screen. Confusing symbols in every color flash by. A white bird over a blue background, some weird blob that kind of looks like an octopus over a yellow square, a big S with nubs on a green square. But Sean passes all of them and clicks on some shadowy human figure, then begins entering numbers.

“There,” he says, and hands the phone back. “Now you have me in your contacts. We can plan something for later in the week. And feel free to call me anytime if you need anything. Los Angeles can be intimidating.” Sean looks toward the street awkwardly. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

He looks sad. Almost like he doesn’t want to be alone either. He hovers by the door, shifting his weight, stretching the moment out longer. But if I have anything to say about it, neither of us will be alone much more after today. I’ve only got four weeks to make him snap out of this brooding mood.

“You definitely will,” I say.

A grin splits Sean’s round face from ear to ear.