by Kim Hornsby
Pepper got the hint. “I’m there all weekend.” She stood and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Home to get my beauty sleep.”
Before Jamey could say something cheesy like Pepper was already beautiful enough, Tina jumped in. “I’ll call you later, Pepper.”
Jamey’s eyes did not follow Pepper out of the room, which Tina found interesting, seeing her friend was wearing a tight mini dress and looked what she and her friends called “Pepperlicious.” Most men—single, married, or gay—couldn’t resist watching that behind leave a room. Next to Pepper’s curves, Tina often felt boyish.
Jamey merely sat down in the chair that had been occupied by Pepper’s curvaceous behind and asked if Tina had dreamed the night before.
She nodded. “It was similar to the usual, but this time there was no current or swell and I was able to surface before I woke. I only had a quick look before I was awake.” Her eyes widened. “Is it possible that this place exists?”
“Yes. It’s possible, but let’s keep that idea between us, just like we talked about last night. What did you see?” Jamey asked.
The more she fought to remember that flash of scenery, the more the visual seemed to fade, like a photograph exposed too long to sunlight. But, she managed to give a simple description of the beach and Jamey looked like he was listening to every word. “I didn’t recognize anything.”
“You need to take the boat out and check the coastline,” he said.
Tina had to agree, as strange as it sounded to be looking for a landform from a dream. “When the charter comes back, I can go up north and take a look.” This small scrap of an idea was someplace to start. Jamey’s involvement gave Tina new hope. Choosing to confide in him had been the right move. “Can you come with me?”
“If you want, sure.” He dunked his empty coffee cup into the trash can across the room. “Don’t tell anyone why we’re taking the boat out, though. Say we’re looking for a new dive site or something. Here’s a different topic. When you saw Hank at Molokini, did I swim right through him, near that rock?”
She nodded.
“That wasn’t a thermocline then,” he said to himself.
“Did you see him?” She wanted the answer to be yes.
Jamey looked like he had an idea brewing. “No, I only felt his sadness. And the water was abnormally cold.”
Chapter 11
Jamey watched Tina ease the boat down the ramp at Mala Wharf. Although she barely glanced in the rear-view mirror, the rig ended up perfectly placed alongside the dock. He shook his head. Tina was good at this. She was definitely at home here in the dive business of Maui. Being near the ocean gave her joy. He could feel it emanating from her. The underlying feeling of fear of the ocean was only temporary. When they found Hank, she’d be able to dive again. A decomposing body, ten months in the ocean would be a gruesome sight, even if you hadn’t once loved that person.
Jamey grabbed the boat lines and pulled the floating craft off the submerged trailer and tied it to the dock. Tina drove the empty trailer up to the parking lot and he stood thinking about their upcoming afternoon. If she recognized the dive site today, they’d hopefully be that much closer to finding the body.
Somewhere deep in her heart, Tina said she still believed Hank might be out there, alive, but Jamey had his own reasons to believe otherwise.
He jumped on board, turned the key and started the engine. Hearing the motor rev up, Obi raced ahead of Tina and jumped from the dock to the boat, settling in at the bow. The usual Maala Wharf drifters, known locally as “wharf rats,” sat at a dilapidated card table in the shade of a stand of trees, drinking beer. He could hear their hooting over the sound of Maui Dream’s purring motor. They were a motley group of lean, leather-skinned men whose stars had extinguished long before ending up on Maui.
Tina waved to them as she passed by and trotted down the ramp to the dock. Jamey imagined they enjoyed watching her bikini-clad body run by.
“Friends of yours?” he asked when she pushed the boat away from the dock and jumped on.
She shrugged. “They’re here every day. Some have nowhere else to go but here, sleeping on someone’s couch at night. I give them the leftover charter food sometimes. Rumor is that most of them are felons wanted stateside.” Jamey backed away from the dock. “The islands attract people who are running away from something.”
That was too true for Jamey. Over the last six weeks, he’d become more used to the idea that Al Qaeda might not know who the dream jumper was. If that were true, his choices included not only returning to Afghanistan if his ability was intact, but living in Carnation or even Maui if it wasn’t. “What about you? What are you running away from?”
“That’s one of the easiest questions you’ve ever asked me.” She looked directly into his eyes as though it was the only time she’d say this and he’d better remember. “My parents.” Tina motioned to the wheel. “Go ahead and take her out.”
“Alright Captain.” It had been a long time since he’d driven a boat. He remembered leaving from this very ramp ten years before with Tina. They were doing deep dives in the channel between Maui and Lanai. One afternoon she’d taught Jamey how to back out of Maala Wharf and turn quickly to get around the jetty without running into the rocks. They’d laughed over the story of the wharf’s concrete being made with salt water, causing it to fall apart years later.
Tina pointed to the decrepit wharf. “This would be a nice dive if the water was deeper. I’ve done it, but not with customers because of the liability of falling chunks of concrete. They gated off the wharf, but the fishermen still find their way in.” She pointed to a group of men clustered at the end of the wharf with poles in the water. “That’s the beauty of Maui.”
Jamey loved this place with its laid-back style. Lawsuits did not dictate normal behavior. “Let’s shoot up past Honolua.” He pushed the throttle down and they took off.
The wind blew Tina’s sun-streaked hair from her face. “I know this part of the coastline inside and out, until we get past the lighthouse,” she called over the noise of the motor. “And even then, I don’t ever remember seeing a beach like the one in the dream.” She looked hopeful in spite of her words, and Jamey remembered the girl he’d met years before—such a free spirit.
When he’d first met Tina and they’d gotten hot and heavy quickly, he’d considered divulging the long tale of him and Carrie. She deserved the information, but he just couldn’t bring that part of his life into the mix. Not yet. Not when their relationship was so new and moving full steam ahead. He thought the path was clear for both of them. Then he’d betrayed her without warning. She must have hated him. But for many reasons, Tina was better off without him in those days.
The turmoil created by his life as an empath was enough to drive anyone from his affections. True, Tina never knew that part of him and never got the chance to choose, but that was how it had to play out. Besides, being with someone who could read your mind, see remembrances through dreams, see the future randomly, and jump into your dreams, had to be the biggest relationship deterrent Jamey could think of.
And now here they were, looking for her husband’s decomposing body. Jamey set a course for the northern end of Maui and silently prayed he could help Tina move on. For his sake as well as hers. He needed to know he wasn’t on Maui uselessly chasing the hope of helping Tina while men died in Afghanistan because of his absence.
It had been hours since leaving Mala Wharf and Jamey knew that disappointment and relief were jostling for top spot in Tina’s mind. Steering the boat around a rocky point, she slowed and lifted her sunglasses to stare at the water. “Maybe this is something.” She pulled in as close as was safe, cutting the engine. “Hank used to come here with Noble, looking for lobster.” Her brow wrinkled. “I feel like I dove here recently, but I didn’t.” “Let’s take a look.” Jamey laid an open palm on her shoulder.
As Tina lowered the anchor, she started to shake. A reassuring look from Jamey did little to kee
p her terror at bay.
“At the very least, let’s jump in and cool off,” he said.
Tina shook her head. “I can’t. I’ll stay with Obi on the boat.” “Being scared could be a good sign. I’ll take a look first.” Already Jamey had his snorkel and mask in his hands.
“Tell me if it looks like this?” Tina drew a quick sketch on her dive slate. The swim step bobbed up and down, slapping the water’s surface in the afternoon waves. “I know I should go in, but I can’t.” She shook her head vehemently, shivering in the Maui sunshine. “Wear your fins in case there’s a current.”
With one last glance, he slipped into the dark blue water and took off across the surface.
The picture Tina had drawn on her slate looked familiar but more like the topography in the dream when he became Hank and turned into a shark. A dream that still puzzled him. When she’d mentioned that dream, Jamey wondered how he’d been a part of it without intentionally dream jumping. Unanswered questions rattled around in his head. Too many to be comfortable about what was happening.
Twenty-five feet below him were clusters of boulders dotting the ocean floor, but not a wall, like in the recurring dream. The underwater rock formations looked like the dream where he was Hank and then became a shark.
When he returned to the boat, Tina was still at the center console, staring at the floor. Shivering. He hoisted himself out of the water and stood on the swim step.
“No cave. Not the dream site,” he said. The wind had come up, and after being in the eighty-six-degree water for thirty minutes, he was cold. The towel draped over the back bench had been warmed by the sun and felt good against his back. “No rock wall down there, just piles of boulders.” She let go of the console. Obi licked the salty water off Jamey’s legs, wagging his tail.
How could Jamey ask Tina about the shark dream without revealing he’d accidentally been in it? He decided to try. “Did you have a dream with me in it? I turned into Hank and then he turned into a shark?”
Tina’s face drained of color.
“It wasn’t the cave site, right? This was about a week ago?” She nodded. “It looked like this.” Jamey drew on the slate.
“How do you know that?” Tina sat on the stern’s cushioned bench seat.
“I got a glimpse just now.” Jamey hoped she’d believe this. “You motioned Hank around a corner and when he got there, he’d become the shark and you were terrified.”
Tina nodded again, her eyes wide, as if she now realized Jamey did have a crazy ability.
“I don’t know if the two sites have a connection, but I think that dream was separate. This area seemed familiar to you because it was the site of another dream.”
“How would I dream about it and know the underwater topography? I haven’t ever dived here.” Tina pulled away, looking flustered.
“Didn’t you say Hank used to go here for octopus or lobster or something? Maybe he described it.” Hell, this was getting more confusing with every new discovery. “Let’s go back to Lahaina. You’re tired and cold.” He wrapped a towel around her back and kissed the top of her head. She smelled like flowers, and although he wanted to hold her, reassure her, he resisted. “Tomorrow we can try South Maui.” They both knew South Maui was a long shot. The body would never have drifted all the way down there, even if sharks hadn’t eaten it.
Jamey persevered. “Let’s get some food when we get back. We can make a plan.”
Tina shriveled into herself with every minute. “No thanks. I’m working the store tonight.” She pulled away from him and started the boat motor.
***
The only road through Kaanapali to the north part of the island was busier than the Hollywood Freeway, and Jamey made a mental note to avoid this time of day from now on. Sitting in traffic, he had a thought. Tina wasn’t interested in searching the southern coastline. She’d told him firmly it wasn’t a possibility. So, when he got through the rat’s nest of traffic, he would drive around the north end to see if he could get a feeling for anything. With a personal item of Hank’s, something might come through. How difficult would it be to get something that belonged to Hank?
Jamey pulled off at the Honolua Store to get a plate of kalua pork. While he ate at a picnic table on the porch outside, he phoned Tina. “I know it sounds strange, but it might help if I took a watch or wallet—something personal.”
“Sure.” Her tone suggested he could knock himself out. Whatever. “His wallet is in my bedroom on the dresser.”
Tina’s house was built in the old-time plantation style, situated at the end of a long, palm-lined driveway, making only the roof visible from the street. This place was definitely an improvement from years ago when she’d lived in a small apartment with two other girls.
The patio door was unlocked and Jamey let himself into the expansive great room. Making a mental note that Tina’s security was lacking for a woman living alone, he considered mentioning that fact to her.
As he passed through the bedroom door, Jamey was hit with a sense of something powerful. He stood in the center of the bedroom and closed his eyes. The air was all but bursting with the presence of someone and it wasn’t Tina. It was something else. Someone else. Hank, he guessed.
He looked in the open closet. Then he checked under the bed in case a live body was hiding there. Exhausting that possibility, he went back to the notion of Hank’s spiritual presence. There was such a profound sense of sadness and desperation that Jamey found himself caught up in the emotion.
“Hank?” Jamey listened and waited. “I want to help you.” He chose his words carefully. “I’m a friend of Tina’s.” He left himself wide open. Nothing. Only the sense of waiting. He wasn’t sure if it was his own waiting.
The wallet sat on the dresser. “If you are unable to cross over, Hank, I might be able to help.” Jamey closed his eyes and firmly gripped the wallet. “Tina and I are trying to find your body.” A thought popped into his mind. If Hank was lingering, was he feeding Tina the location of his dead body? He’d never heard of any of this shit before.
“The dreams are helping, but we can’t find the site.” Had he just imagined the shift of air that laced through the room? Jamey opened his eyes. “Hank?” He turned around slowly, searching the smallest parts of the room in case something, even if it was barely perceptible, changed. Curtains remained still, a pencil on the dresser didn’t move, there was no indentation on the bed. Something might move just a hair. Jamey’s eyes scanned the room. Nothing.
This wasn’t his area of expertise—ghosts—and he happened to know from Sixth Force training that it was almost impossible for spirits to move something on demand. He hoped for a sign, regardless.
The feeling of Hank’s presence was strong, but no obvious communication resulted and eventually he gave up. At the bedroom doorway, Jamey held up the wallet. “I’m borrowing this. I’ll bring it back.”
As he headed out the driveway, he glanced in the rear-view mirror to see a large man with long black hair, standing on Tina’s deck. He jammed on the brakes. This guy was bigger than Hank, more muscular. When Jamey turned around, no one remained. Who the hell was in Tina’s house? He backed the car to the stairs, ran up to the deck and shouted into the house. “Hey, hi. I’m Tina’s friend.” Nothing. He walked through her house but found no one lingering.
Did she have a roommate?
Driving north, he soon became lost in thought. How he could do an intentional dream jump without telling Tina about his ability? That is, assuming Jamey was able to dream jump purposely and without repercussions. He’d jumped into Tina’s dream with Hank, but how he’d done that was a mystery.
His team in Afghanistan had cautioned him against trying again for a while. They’d discussed that he might have taken his last jump.
His brain-wave activity had changed drastically on the last jump. But the immediate problem was that he had an overpowering desire to help Tina, something he found impossible to ignore, like he’d somehow become a part of th
e mystery. A conduit.
He drove along the twisting north road towards Kahakuloa. Passing cow pastures and turnoffs to beaches, strange wisps of images presented themselves, like scents in the air, but he didn’t know what most of them meant. The man on Tina’s deck had been Hank’s friend. He now knew that from the images that were coming to him. Hank’s physique was similar to Noble’s, with black hair and dark skin, but Hank had been slim, his personality more jovial, less intense.
What Jamey got from the wallet was conflicting and confusing, but normal for a well-used wallet. Happiness and sadness, confusion and clarity. What he really wanted was a flash of where the body might be, not character traits. He didn’t need to know Hank, the man who’d ultimately married her.
As he drove farther away, the connection became weaker. He put the wallet aside and drove past the Maui Airport and along the coast. Passing Paia, the island’s windsurfing hangout, Jamey stopped at a pullout near Hookipa and watched the wave jumpers. Lines of white surf were dotted with neon-colored sails jumping the waves, speckling the turquoise water.
Back in the jeep, he doubled back towards Kahului, passing the sign to Mama’s Fish House, one of the best restaurants on Maui.
Years before, on their only vacation without the twins, he and Carrie had eaten there. Pops had given them the condo for a week, hoping to save their marriage. But it turned out that the marriage was over, as well as the romance. Without the twins, Jamey and Carrie had dead space between them that couldn’t be filled, and when they returned to the mainland, talk of divorce showed its worrisome head.
Reaching over to turn up the radio, Jamey sang along to a Pink Floyd song. He knew every word, every beat. Thing was, he’d never been a fan. Didn’t realize he knew the song. Where had that come from? Jamey moved the wallet from his pocket to the passenger seat beside him and knew that he was in too deep with Tina.