The boys ran down the dirt road, the sun rising over their shoulders. Walker knew the course well. His family had rented the same beach house every summer, and there wasn’t a corner of the island nor a stretch of beach he had not explored.
As the course turned south, the sights and sounds changed. The smell of the pungent salt air dissipated, and the marsh, populated by blue herons and long-legged great egrets, was replaced by live oaks and the occasional deer. Kiawah Island was a magnificent living testimony to the majesty and diversity of God’s creation. Rivers, marshland, tidal pools, the ocean, a maritime forest, and the accompanying ecosystem of each habitat formed a veritable Garden of Eden created by millions of years of shifting tides. Walker’s father said that the island, along with baseball and shrimp ‘n’ grits, was more proof God loved us.
Walker ran comfortably toward the front of the pack. A mile into the race, the runners began to separate. A half dozen runners were ahead of Walker, none of them Eddie. He didn’t look back. He didn’t have to. He knew Eddie was there, always in striking distance.
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