Work Text:
It was a beautiful day in Atlanta. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the smell of charcoal filled the air. Francis “Frankie” Hambone stood at a grill, spatula in hand, apron on, smile across his face as he prepared the food for the day. Children ran through South Bend Park around him, and families talked animatedly as they set out picnic blankets and chairs.
“Hey, Hambone!” A boisterous voice shouted from his side, and Frankie turned to see a dark-skinned man strolling towards him. Marvin Robinson, wearing a simple plaid shirt, cargo shorts, and a bowler hat he never took off no matter how many times Frankie insisted it made his head look big, approached the grill. “How’s the food coming, man? Kids are gettin’ hungry over there!”
Frankie smiled and shook his head. “Well, they’re gonna have to wait a bit longer, Marv. Those kids of yours sure are impatient, aren’t they?”
“They learned it from the best!” Marvin grinned broadly and punched Frankie in the arm, before grabbing his shoulder to make sure he didn’t hit the grill. “But hey, it’s worth it for the world-famous Ham-burger!”
Frankie glanced back at the grill as he flipped a patty. “I keep telling you that joke doesn’t work. Ham-burger just sounds the same as hamburger, you always end up have to explain it to people.”
“Well, that’s ‘cause the joke ain’t made for people, it’s made to annoy you!” Marv called back over his shoulder as he walked back to his family, who had set up a blanket next to the river. Frankie spared him one last look, just in time to feel something hit him in the back as a warm presence wrapped him in a hug.
“So, food’s ready for us, right?” Caleb Hambone, Frankie’s husband, asked from behind his back. Frankie waited a moment to respond, just enjoying his presence.
“Of course it is, honey,” Frankie said softly as he flipped a patty onto a bun. “But don’t be so loud about it, Marv would kill me if he ever figured it out.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem like Marv is listening, now does it?” Caleb replied back in a softer tone as he glanced over to where Marvin was currently engaged in conversation with his wife. “Johnny! Tav! Al!” He suddenly shouted, “Food’s ready!”
Out from behind a tree, three young boys rushed out. Their hands were dirty, their hair was messy, and each one had no less than two band-aids from where they’d hurt themselves in one way or another. Immediately, they crowded around their fathers’ legs, hands reaching up to the table where Frankie was loading up plates with their lunch.
“Settle down, boys,” Frankie spoke hurriedly, “your father was a bit quick on the draw with calling y’all over here.”
Caleb just smiled sheepishly as Frankie finished handing out burgers to the boys, before giving Caleb one of his own. Frankie received one last kiss on the cheek before his husband went off with the kids, leaving him to finish up the rest of the food on his own.
Frankie’s gaze lingered on his husband and kids. Tav was eating as fast as he could, while Johnny and Al argued over who got the bigger portion. Caleb sat neatly cross-legged, keeping a careful eye on them as he enjoyed his own food.
Frankie smiled. Days like these truly were the best he could ever ask for.
~~~~~
“Frankie!” Marvin shouted, fist pounding on the door. “I know you’re in there, man! Open up!”
Rain crashed down around Marvin as he stood at the Hambone residence’s door. Thunder boomed in the distance as he kept one hand on his hat, the other knocking at the wood in front of him. His clothes were soaked and he was shaking in the cold, yet he continued to knock at the door.
“C’mon, man,” Marvin said, sounding a bit defeated, “we all feel for you, you know we do, but you can’t just lock yourself in your house all day, man. Let me in. Let’s talk.”
Marvin’s forehead fell against the door as he desperately waited, but there was no answer. He just sighed.
“The funeral’s tomorrow, man. Everyone’s gonna be there. You should come. Say something nice. They deserve it.” Marv slowly walked down the steps, keeping his vision on the door. The house looked so...empty, now. Finally, he just sighed and walked away.
Several minutes later, after Marvin was gone, the door creaked open. Frankie Hambone stood in the doorway, looking tired. He was freshly shaven, with a slightly bleeding nick on his chin, and had large bags under his eyes. Slowly, he walked out to his old truck, keys the only thing in his hand. He entered silently and started driving.
He didn’t entirely know where he was going, just that Marvin was right. He couldn’t lock himself in the house all day. But he couldn’t bear to see...anything. So he just drove. For hours that felt like days.
Eventually, he found himself at the ocean. He wasn’t even sure if he was in Georgia anymore; he’d ended on a slightly overgrown dirt path, with a small beach cluttered with rocks.
Exiting the truck, he walked down to the beach. The path ended and he nearly fell several times, but eventually he found himself standing at the shore, waves lapping gently at his feet.
He sat down neatly cross-legged, before quickly adjusting and sitting on his knees. A long, shuddering sigh escaped his mouth as he did so, closing his eyes and just...existing. Thinking. About everything.
Frankie Hambone had lost everything. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t know what to do.
The intensity of the waves increased, soaking the bottom of his pants.
But maybe that was a lie. He hadn’t lost everything.
The waves continued to pick up. His belt, a gift from his father so long ago, was becoming ruined.
He hadn’t lost himself.
Water crashed against his chest, knocking the air from his lungs.
Frankie Hambone was still around.
Before he could breathe, the water was covering his mouth, his nose, his face.
So he would keep going.
The ocean swallowed Frankie Hambone, a perfect outline of water in the shape of a man.
When it receded, he was gone.