by Nicky Webber
‘You right?’ he said in a thick colloquial shorthand.
Sacha had thought the area was majestic in its natural beauty, but now she saw the dangerous pounding surf and the dark cliffs where life-threatening results could kill the unsuspecting. She felt sick, ill with worry. This situation could cast a long dark shadow over the rest of their family’s lives. Sacha thought she would never recover if the police discovered Hawke’s body after being drowned or killed by losing his footing along the narrow path, weaving its way along the cliff edge.
By 3 pm, there was still nothing. It was 8 am back in California, so the girls agreed to call a little later and sent a text saying the search operation now expanded to the other bays along the Coromandel Coast. They promised to call as soon as they had an update.
CHAPTER 8
Near Death Experience
The brightly colored orange and yellow streamlined ocean kayaks moved with the swell behind the breaking surf. Hawke had already caught two yellowtail fish. After an hour of paddling along the coast, the gentle offshore breeze rose, its strength blowing a half-empty water bottle from Bruno’s kayak and into the sea. Hawke maneuvered his canoe closer to his friend and called out as a massive wave escalated into sight.
‘Hey, turn!’ Hawke shouted, digging his paddle into the rolling swell.
‘What?’ Bruno, with his back to the horizon, yelled back at Hawke, not fully comprehending the alarm in Hawke’s voice.
Hawke pointed his paddle to the distant rising wave, building three or four meters behind Bruno’s back. Bruno swung around, nearly capsizing the kayak, and could see three waves ahead, a massive wave gaining in size and speed. He wobbled and pushed his paddle into the rough ocean waves, attempting to swing the kayak around.
‘Point straight into it so we can get over!’ Hawke yelled again.
But it was too late.
Out of nowhere, the massive breaker rose over them, no longer just a huge swell, but white-capped surf breaking across the top and dropping onto both kayaks. As the wave crashed, one kayak spun high into the air, throwing Hawke out as it smashed back into the ocean and rolled to the shore, jumping and bouncing in the violent surf.
Bruno’s shoulder took the full impact of the wave, and it flung him from the boat. Suddenly the roiling surf slammed into his side, forcing him away from the kayak, and the vast curl of the wave seized his flaying form and dragged him, pounding his rag-doll body under the water and thrusting his head into the ocean floor.
Bruno tried to fight it, but the tumultuous wave was far stronger. He struggled to the surface with his lungs almost bursting for air as another massive wave engulfed him, dragging him under again, smashing his head, a second time, into the sandy bottom of the bay.
This time he heard a loud crack inside his head and felt the pain sear through his face as the pounding surf drove him under for a third terrifying time.
He felt as if he were inside a tumble dryer, rolling and rolling and being bashed into the bottom and plucked up again. Bruno thought he could no longer hold on to his breath and was going to die.
The sand and roughly churning surf thrashed and rolled him several more times, forcing sand in almost every orifice, making it impossible to see. It was Hawke, now closer to shore, who stood up first and saw his friend in serious trouble. It took him several minutes to grab one of Bruno’s flaying arms and drag him from the pummeling surf. Hawke hauled his injured friend up the beach and immediately saw blood trickling down from a deep gash above Bruno’s left eye. The hard, red open wound ran from his forehead to his eye socket. Hawke half carried and half dragged the stumbling man up towards the wild tussock grasses that fringed the white sandy beach.
‘Keep your eyes closed,’ he insisted. ‘You’ve got sand and blood all over your face.’
Bruno, breathless with the struggle to keep upright as Hawke gently laid him down, resting his head on a hastily gathered sand mound on the shore.
‘Where’s the… blood coming from?’ Bruno asked in a weak voice.
‘It’s OK. You’re going to be fine. Just keep still,’ said Hawke, slightly alarmed by the gash on his friend’s forehead where bruising and swelling were already forming across the left side of his face. Bruno looked like he’d been in a fight and taken a massive punch in the face.
‘You might have broken your nose,’ Hawke offered, but he did not know. ‘You’ve got a swollen eye, too. Can you see my finger out of that eye?’
Bruno lifted his right arm and covered his good eye. He squinted as Hawke held up an index finger and moved it from side to side. Bruno’s left eye tracked the movement, but it looked a blood-covered mess.
Hawke removed his lifejacket and t-shirt, retrieving a small zip-lock bag which should have protected his cell phone. Now, after prolonged immersion in sea water, the ruined cell phone is useless. He used the leaking plastic bag to gather clean saltwater from the shoreline and carefully rinsed Bruno’s face and hands. They spent a long hungry, cold evening huddled in the undergrowth of the bush close to the beach. Neither of them slept. Bruno occasionally moaned with pain as he dozed, bringing Hawke back from the brink of falling asleep.
CHAPTER 9
Homeward
At 5 pm, the sisters returned to the Police Station. The tense atmosphere remained amongst the first group of rescuers. They sat silently in the station drinking mugs of tea and barely exchanged a look between them. There hadn’t been radio contact with the rescue helicopter or the ground team for about 50 minutes when the radio finally crackled into action.
‘Ground rescue to King, over.’
‘Yeah, mate,’ Constable King breathed into the mouthpiece.
‘We got em.’
The two sisters sprang from their seats. Sacha shouted, ‘Are they alive or hurt?’
They both clapped their hands over their mouths, holding their breath as the radio crackled and faded, making staccato words fragmented into nonsense, adding more to the desperate pair.
‘Come again mate, over,’ King tried increasing the volume. He turned to the girls. ‘It’s those bloody hills. Blocks the damn signal. Cell phones are useless up there too.’
More incomprehensible garble. King flicked a switch and without looking at the girls, announced he was contacting the chopper.
‘Rescue One. Do you copy?’ He repeated it twice before the faultless, clear voice of the pilot responded over the radio.
‘Roger, Nick. Two Yanks onboard. Over.’
‘Status mate. Over.’ Nick asked.
‘On the way to Auckland Emergency. One head injury, other okay. Over.’
The sisters sobbed in relief that they were both alive, at least, and clung onto one another, straining to hear.
‘Call back to Search Teammate. Full condition with St John. Over.’
‘Gotcha. Thanks. Good Work. Out.’ Constable King said, swinging around to speak to the girls. He held up his hand. ‘Before you speak, I know as much as you do. Let me call St John Ambulance Service and see what the paramedics have on their medical status.’
Sacha fired off a text to her parents even though it was early morning in LA.
They're alive. We’ll call as soon as we know more info, flashed onto Maddy’s cell phone. She jumped as if electrocuted. ‘They’re alive!’ she shrieked at both men dozing on the sofa.
A rescue helicopter flew Bruno to Auckland Hospital 100 miles away. His diagnosis revealed the full impact of the accident; severe concussion, cracked eye socket, and the cut on his forehead needing eleven stitches.
Two days later the patient discharged from hospital and joined Hawke and the sisters at the holiday cottage in Whangamata. They only had three days left before Bruno and Suzie left to return home to California. Bruno was still in pain from the stitches in his forehead and the fractured cheekbone, which had almost dislodged his left eye from its socket. Both men explained to the girls how their ordinary fishing expedition turned into a fight for their lives.
Back in California, Maddy, Fr
ed, and Logan had been online video calling and talking to the foursome. The relief at the first-world rescue and paramedic care of the tourists was palpable.
‘Thank heavens Sacha had insisted we wear lifejackets on the kayaks that day,’ Hawke said. ‘I hardly ever bother back home.’
Bruno shrugged. ‘Yup. Valuable lesson learned.’
‘We’re looking forward to having you all safely back home,’ said Maddy. ‘It’s such a relief to talk to you all.’
‘Only four more sleeps.’ Logan chimed in. ‘What about you, Hawke, are you sure you want to stay for the full year?’
‘For sure,’ Hawke replied, ‘no doubt about it.’
‘I’m not sure I want to come home yet,’ Sacha said. ‘I’ve been thinking about staying.’
CHAPTER 10
Their Secret
On Sunday evening, after Suzie and Bruno had left for LA, Sacha started writing in her diary again. She kept it under lock and key for her eyes only. It helped organize her thoughts, especially after the recent blazing row she had had with her father, Logan.
February 16th
There was such a blow-up with Dad. You’d think I was going to migrate to Mars. His reaction was way over the top. Maddy even chipped in. Like it’s anything to do with her. I told them all that I would stay here in New Zealand and expect to get a part-time job or even take the rest of the year off. My internship can wait. They just don’t get it. I am sick of the BS of living in the States. In LA anyway.
Staying with Hawke has worked a lot better than I imagined. I thought we might bicker a lot. Instead, we get on like an old married couple. The irony!
For the first time, I’m really getting to know Hawke. He’s intelligent and funny. I’ve started thinking about us being an item. We function so well together. Instead of just being a boy about things, he seems to have matured. The adult Hawke is much more my speed. It doesn’t hurt that he’s tall and good looking. I really want to stick around and see where this friendship goes. He’s already showing signs of consideration and understanding that would’ve been impossible a few years ago.
I see him in a new light- definitely someone I can live with, but is it love? Can there be genuine love between us? It’s tempting, but I’m also wary that if we slept together and it didn’t work out. That would be a cross to carry with our families so close and having to see him at every gathering. So, I need to make sure of his feelings for me too. In the fullness of time, I guess, all will be revealed.
Peter and Anne say they’re happy for us to stay as the place is mostly empty over winter.
I miss Suzie, but she had to go back to Bruno. Glad I don’t have to live with him!
Hawke’s off fishing tomorrow, off the pier. He can’t drown doing that—I hope! Fingers crossed, he catches something. An oven-baked fresh fish with a squeeze of lemon. Yummmmm.
With kayaking taking a back seat, the pair enjoyed the late summer months swimming, walking, fishing and eating BBQs on their back porch.
Over dinner, Sacha joked with Hawke. She had always thought of him as her younger brother, but after recent events, she viewed him as a fully fledged man. Of course, he was almost five years younger than her, and this preoccupied her with convincing reasons for self-restraint in the weeks that lay ahead.
‘What are you writing in that notebook?’ Hawke asked, leaning forward to glimpse Sacha’s handwriting.
She glanced up at him and smiled in the half-light. ‘Nothing much. Suzie said it might be therapeutic to start a diary. I was going to make one of those daily lists of things to be grateful for.’ She shrugged. ‘Until I realized being here with you meant I was grateful for everything.’
‘No, kidding?’ Hawke laughed, taken aback by the soft evening light playing on Sacha’s face. She almost glowed. He hadn’t noticed before, but there was some X-factor thing going on between them. Or was he imagining it? They had known one another all their lives, so why now? Did he want to go full Biblical and really get to know her?
‘Yeah, I feel the happiest I’ve ever been, living here in this cozy little house and enjoying the simple pleasures of fresh food and fooling around. It all seems so uncomplicated,’ she said.
‘Wanna vino? There’s half a bottle of that Sav you like in the fridge,’ he offered.
‘Sure,’ she replied, looking back at her diary and continuing to write.
He walked to the compact fridge freezer and removed the bottle, pouring an equal serve in the only two wine glasses they had in the cottage.
‘What are you writing, then? You know, you have nothing grateful to write.’ He snorted, grinning at his joke.
‘Just a diary. Just stuff. You know stuff that I want to get off my mind.’
Hawke handed her the chilled glass, already forming condensation on the outside, making it look more inviting. He leaned forward with his wine.
‘A toast!’ Hawke smiled at her sitting on the sofa, with the dappled late afternoon light dancing over her body. Glimpsing her journal, he noticed she had almost filled a complete page in handwriting. He briefly contemplated sneaking a peak when she wasn’t around but discounted that as being too creepy. Things were perfect as they were and why rock the boat, he thought to himself.
‘To you, Miss Sacha Jones, the light in my darkness.’
She stood and smiled, reaching her glass out to his. ‘Impressive.’ she grinned at Hawke.
Instead of clinking their glasses together, she rubbed her glass along the surface of his, with a mischievous glint playing in her blue eyes.
‘Ahhh,’ he said. ‘Are you trying to flirt with me, Ms. Jones?’
‘Maybe,’ she responded, not taking her eyes from his.
Hawke sighed. Was he imagining it, or was Sacha giving him the signal? ‘Am I to be your toy-boy on this wild New Zealand adventure?’
They both giggled and took a sip from their wine glasses. ‘I guess that makes me a cougar, although I’m hardly old enough to be your mother, Mr. Davis.’
It only took those two glasses of wine to ensure they danced around the sofa in the living room to the vibrant beating music of Aviccii. There was something warm, languid, and comfortable about the music and the intertwining rhythm of their lives.
Their lovemaking was not a frenzy, not hot and heavy. Everything seemed still in the silence of thickening dusk. At first, Hawke held Sacha close and gently kissed her lips. They both had a sense of returning home to the pleasure of the familiar security of having been here before. It seemed crazy to Hawke; they had been playmates from elementary school and friends all their lives. He had an overwhelming sense that this was right. They belonged to one another, and he felt assured that there would be no going back.
His mind returned to the expansive joy flooding through his body with the ease of an infinite closeness. Hawke pulled back and stared at the girl, the child, the woman; he had always known. He did not want to force his body into hers. Her soft, fragile warmth needed love and tenderness. He would take care, take time, and enjoy these precious moments strung together like glowing pearls of delight, each soft touch they shared escalating their lust and affection.
He grasped her small hand in his, pulling her into the bedroom and onto the double bed, nuzzling against her elegantly long neck, inhaling the scent of promised paradise. They gave themselves up to their rising passion as they both removed their clothing and pressed themselves together, fused in nakedness, surprised by the emotional connection neither had expected.
As early morning sunlight bounced off the varnished timber-paneled bedroom walls, Hawke snuggled up to Sacha, who smiled with her eyes closed. She lifted her chin slightly, breathing him in, aware of the pleasure his naked body gave as it pressed against hers.
Her large blue eyes sprung open. What just happened? Was it creepy? Did she feel bad about sleeping with Hawke, who effectively was a younger brother? Not really. Different parents, but they had played together as kids, as teenagers, and now as adults. She smiled inwardly. They had played hard, too
. She grinned to herself. Sacha’s mind raced as Hawke pressed himself against the smooth, bare skin of her back. She turned over to face him, pulling the sheet up to her neck. ‘Is this a good idea?’ she asked.
‘Hell yeah,’ Hawke immediately responded, still basking in the afterglow. He was ready to go again, but was acutely aware of the slightly alarmed look on Sacha’s face.
He pulled his head back and looked at her with one hand on her shoulder. ‘What?’ he asked, frowning.
‘Well, you know,’ she started, growing more uneasy. ‘We’re pretty much part of the same family.’
‘No, we aren’t,’ he said. ‘We grew up as part of the same family, but we are unrelated. However, I’d like to be related!’ he chuckled.
Silence.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
‘Please promise me you won’t tell anyone,’ she said.
‘Sacha. I don’t know anyone to tell. What does it matter? Are you embarrassed and appalled that you slept with me? Was I that bad in bed?’
A look of horror spread across her face. ‘Oh, no. NO. That’s not what I meant.’
‘What do you mean, then?’ Hawke moved away from her, climbing out of bed before pulling on his shorts and t-shirt with his back towards her. ‘Are you struggling to come up with a response?’
‘No. I dunno,’ Sacha said, half sitting up in bed on one elbow to face him, clutching the sheet around her breasts. ‘I don’t want our parents to know. Dad will probably be okay, but what about you? Fred and Maddy won’t be too happy. I think they still hope you’ll get back together with Tracy.’
‘No way!’ Hawke’s firm response reassured her. ‘Besides, they can think about what they like. It’s our life, and we can live it any way we want.’
Sacha smiled at him as he kissed her. And then she left the bed. He felt a deep longing for her and was sorry he had stood up and pulled on his shorts. But given the conversation, it probably wasn’t wise to jump her again, he thought to himself.
‘Let’s just keep this to ourselves,’ she said.