The old man at the docks
Donny was no fool. For more than fifty years, every day of the year, he had waken up long before dawn to go fishing and sell on the market fresh fishes and other kind of sea foods. There had been more like him back in the days and there were a few new ones now. Donny was really dedicated to his work. It was hard, desperately hot in the summer, possibly dangerous in the winter winds and most of the time, it was lonely and heart-breaking on days where the fishes seemed to avoid him. But it was honest work. People in town loved buying the product of his swaying nights.
There was an old boat on the docks, not far away from his own. Donny had watched this boat accompanying his for friendly years. Until the boat couldn't sail anymore, until its owners were not more.
Yet, Paul and Darlene's son was one determined child.
Thus on that sunny day, Donny was there to help Sam go through all the materials the people of Delacroix had given him out of kindness and respect for his old folks. Some had just left a net or an electrical tool. Some other had brought him full boxes of supplies, so heavy Donny wondered how they put it on the cart in the first place. And how they would unload it now.
"We'll need more hands," he said to Sam. "Lemme me just go fetch-"
But before he could state the names of the men he knew would gladly help the Falcon, the biggest, heaviest crate raised in the air before landing rather suddenly on the ground and that's when - ah, Donny realized there had been a man behind the crate. A young white man, to be more precise.
"You're welcome," he said to Sam.
Sam didn't look impressed. Donny sure was.
He patted Sam on the shoulder.
"Sorry son, my fishes are waiting for me."
Sam reacted immediately.
"Oh, no, it's alright! Thanks for everything, Donny. It really means a lot."
They smiled at each other and the old man headed for his own boat. He had to check the level of oil in his engine for the next night but, as much as he would never admit it, he was dying to stay near Sam. His curiosity was gnawing at his insides. Who was that white man? Before he dived into his dear boat, he shot them one last glance. The white man was on the Paul and Darlene, helping Sam. Alright, then.
*
During the next few days, Donny checked on his old friends' boat one to two times a day. Sam was working very hard on it and, more surprisingly, so did the white man.
"Hey, Sam! My niece made me iced coffee but one thermos is enough for me."
Reaching out over the gap between the docks and the boat's low rail where Sam sat, Donny handed him the second thermos.
"Aw man, thank you so much!"
"Don't mention it. But tell me if you need my help at some point."
"Sure will."
Sam took a sip and let out a grunt of appreciation. Donny smiled, pleased. As he turned on his heels, he heard Paul's son shouting in the opposite direction:
"Bucky! Come hydrate yourself!"
So Bucky was the name. Donny much wondered where he could be sleeping because his crooked body was early on the docks and late to leave them and he had always witnessed these two coming in and leaving in the same direction.
Another day, as he was approaching the boat to take a look, Bucky jumped over board and landed on the concrete, almost bumping into him.
"Oh, sorry! I'm really sorry!"
"No, no, it's fine," Donny quickly replied, reassuring him.
The old fisherman found himself with the opportunity to take a closer look at that 'Bucky.' His eyes almost immediately fell on his dark prosthetic but he managed to look up instead. Untrimmed beard but honest eyes. A chest like a trunk, too.
"You're Donny, right? You go fishing every nights."
Deep voice and polite smile. Donny chuckled.
"Yup. That does sound like me."
Before they could continue their conversation, however, Sam appeared on the deck - probably coming from the engine room.
"So? Where's my monkey wrench?" he shot at his friend, rather impatiently.
Bucky huffed at him.
"Probably already in your hands if you didn't have the habit to leave your stuff laying around. I can't find it!"
Sam's turn to get frustrated.
"And that's why I told you, Buck-"
"Nuh-uh! Did you try to fight Thanos all on your own with only half a shield?"
Sam made an offended gasp.
"First of all, you didn't know that until the battle was over. And second of all, I explicitly told you, next to the storm lantern."
Donny, who had bent forward on the (obviously) work space of these two definitely-not-sailors (least of all mechanics), stood up with the tool in his hands.
"That's the one you were looking for?" he asked, grinning.
"Yes! Thank you, Donny. At least someone uses their eyes, here."
Donny threw the wrench at Sam who caught it and went back inside. Bucky sighed out of exasperation. The next second, he crouched to the ground and started tidying their tools, putting them all in one box, making sure all of them could be seen at first glance. His face still expressed irritation but his movements were both precise and careful. Of course, it wouldn't have meant anything per se but the man also kept looking at the trap on the deck into which Sam had vanished and every time he did so, his expression softened.
*
On Thursday, Sarah Wilson bought for twice the quantity she usually did.
"Someone is hungry?" Donny asked teasingly as he wrapped the fishes in newspapers.
Sarah gave him a tired sigh.
"I thought my brother ate a lot but his friend, my God, I don't know where he puts all of this."
"You often invite him over for dinner?"
Sarah took out her wallet and started counting the cash.
"Well, yeah. Always actually," she replied, handing him the money before watching him as he calculated the change. "He stayin in our home."
Donny had to calculate again.
"Three makes ten. Here you go, darling."
She accepted the coins with a nod.
"At first, he wanted to stay in a hotel in New Orleans. You imagine this? I'm glad Sam brought him home. And he's so nice, the kids love him! Okay, I won't bother you any longer. Take care Donny, see you on Sunday."
"You too, Sarah."
He watched her walking away with her grocery bags, frowning. Was Bucky aware Sam's sister had a soft spot for him? Fortunately, as he passed near the boat later that day, just when Sarah was there too, scolding his brother, he got his answer: Bucky knew. Worse than that, the white boy was flirting with both the siblings!
*
The heat was rising and so did the humidity. Donny was transferring his crates full of fishes into the relative coolness of the market - a huge place completely covered with oilcloths so to block the sun rays while allowing a light draught to exist. The crates were heavy and Donny didn't have the same back he used to in his youth. He put down the crate he was currently transferring and stretched his back, groaning in pain and too much body heat.
"Hi! Um, can I help you?"
He looked down to find a young, brown-skinned man, with a duffel bag hanging on one shoulder and a military outfit.
"Nah, don't worry, son, ol'Donny can still handle a few fishes."
"Oh. Good."
The young man bit his lips nervously. Donny refrained from laughing at his shyness but he made sure not to pick up his crate again, thus showing he was still listening.
"Um, I'm sorry to ask you this," the young man finally spurted out in a rush, "but er, I'm looking for a boat. I mean, I'm looking for someone but I got told he's on a boat right now. I don't know if you know him, his name is Sam Wilson and-"
This time, Donny couldn't help it and burst out laughing. But when he saw the other clench the strap of his bag out of embarrassment, he stopped and smiled tenderly.
"Sam Wilson is our national hero, son. Of course I know him. And he's on that boat. The Paul and Darlene."
As he explained, he pointed to the boat, twenty foot away. The man followed his finger then turned back to him to thank him with a big smile. He darted in that direction. Calmly, Donny leaned forwards to grab his crate. But his eyes spotted movements - and his ears caught the joyful salutations. He looked up to see Sam jumping on the docks to hug the newcomer. Bucky appeared on the deck too but didn't do the same thing. In fact, he stayed on the boat and waved awkwardly. The man replied with an equally awkward wave.
Oh, boy.
Donny was no fool but he doubted even God knew whom this white man was truly in love with. Because the white man sure as hell didn't know it himself.