Calder let go of me and blushed. He seemed to have forgotten we had company. I peered inside to Auntie, a half-smile on her face as she spied on Calder and me. At that moment, I realized I was starting to heal, beginning to let Jeff go. I wondered what direction things would have headed without the storm. Curious, I questioned what would happen after, and said a silent prayer to whoever was listening that Lahaina, the Estate Inn, my home, would endure.
10
Evening 19
After hours of boarding up windows, bringing in outdoor furniture, and moving Auntie’s possessions from downstairs to upstairs, we packed our backpacks into Calder’s truck to head to the high school on the opposite side of the highway, seventy-five feet above sea level.
Tad had left earlier to go to his own apartment and pack up some of his things. Living right along the highway, he happened to be in the mandatory evacuation zone and promised to join us after stopping by work. For some reason, violent winds meant he had to release and reel in every zipline, a five-person job on the best of days. And with the hurricane, only three people turned up.
Calder became edgier as the hours passed by. With the winds picking up and rain beginning to fall, I could tell he worried about his family. He kept checking his phone and shooting off random texts. Although Hana had a hurricane evacuation center, it was a smaller town with scant resources, and the high school was only twenty-five feet above sea level. A powerful storm surge could pose a risk, and flooding over Hana Highway and Honoapiilani Highway meant we were completely cut off from the rest of the island. There was even a ten-thousand foot high extinct volcano in the way.
We were among the first to arrive at the high school. Only 7 p.m., the sun had hardly begun to set. Being mid-July, folks were ill at ease with how early it was in hurricane season for a category five to hit the island. Those who were present hardly said a word to one another, their island spirit chased away by the prospect of impending doom.
Auntie spotted a friend of hers at a sign-in station who offered a free chair. I asked her if she needed help, but she waved me off, ordering me to find some way to be useful “for a change.”
I knew she didn’t mean to snap at me, but since we received news of the storm only a few hours before, she was not herself. I didn’t blame her. When I had arrived, she had put on her hostess face, pretending everything was fine. But now her home was effectively lost. If not destroyed by the hurricane, this entire ordeal would prove the final nail in the coffin of her life plans.
Gone were the days of rum punch, apple bananas, empanadas, and a perpetual beachside holiday, a tropical dreamscape stolen away by the evil tax-man who now, ironically, provided shelter from the very storm that ruined it all.
“You okay?” Calder asked me as he led me further into the school. I looked around, realizing I would have attended this school if I hadn’t been whisked off to the mainland.
“Who am I kidding?” I asked him. “Auntie, Tad, and I had no chance to raise the money to save the inn. Maybe the storm should destroy it. At least it’ll save us the heartache of moving out.”
“Come on. You don’t mean that. No one wants to see you and Alana put out, especially me. But it’s not your fault. It’s not her fault, either. Shit happens.”
“But she trusted me to help her save the inn. I feel like I’m letting her down, just like I let my mother down when I moved here.”
I suddenly remembered my mother. It was almost midnight there. I wasn’t sure if she knew about the hurricane. I hadn’t heard a peep from her in days. As Calder tried to cheer me up again, I shot off a text message to her.
Mom, we’re all fine. We’re at Lahaina High riding out the storm. Love you. Call you later.
“-and it’s not like you can control the weather. Maybe the clerk’s office will grant you an extension because of the storm.”
I looked up at Calder after pocketing my phone again. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up. I’m sorry for brooding. I’m just disappointed. Things finally started to go my way, and then this happened. It’s a lot for me to take in.”
As I leaned against a set of lockers in an empty, dark hallway and looked up at the taller Calder, I couldn’t help but feel at ease. He didn’t need to say anything to cheer me up. His gentle attention was enough. At that moment, I wanted him to kiss me. I could feel the tension building, the expectation of a shared first kiss.
If not for a woman yanking open the door from outside, sending a tepid and damp torrent through the hallway, a first kiss on the lips might have happened. The mood turned when it no longer became private.
“Come with me,” Calder said as he grabbed my hand and led me deeper into the school. As we passed empty classrooms on our way away from the gymnasium where most folks checked in, I wondered where he was taking me.
On the far side of the school, around a bend and up a random flight of stairs, Calder opened a door into a well-maintained, garden-like greenhouse reserved for faculty.
Surrounded by plexiglass on all sides with a plexiglass ceiling, I was astounded by the view, perhaps the best in the entire town. Squinting through the rain-stained glass, I made out a raging ocean.
Hundreds of dancing palm trees swayed with each gust of wind. You could practically make out the gusts, as though they were powerful spirits playing a game of tug-of-war with one another for control of the island.
Behind us, the gentle slopes of Pu’u Kukui ascended into the clouds. The peak was hidden, as always, but everyone in Lahaina knew the sleeping volcano was there, occasionally bringing us much needed rain while providing us with crystal clear drinking water.
Below us, I saw the lights of the school project upward from one skylight or another as a steady stream of cars filed into the parking area, locals and tourists alike seeking shelter.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked.
“Because this place is special to me. I fixed it up when I worked here. It became my own personal escape from the chaos below. I wanted to share it with you.”
He moved in closer again, this time with nothing and no one around to interrupt. Placing his hands gently on my waist, he pulled me in until our hips pressed together. I braced myself as he moved in, my back firm against one of the windows. My hands, having a mind of their own, didn’t know where to go. Dangling at my side, then waving around, they were eager for what was coming.
I held my breath, anticipating a heated first kiss. Calder did not keep me waiting. Removing one hand from my hip, he gently pulled at the back of my neck and leaned into me. I closed my eyes as our lips met in that first, strange and sensual caress. Lingering for just a second, our lips grazed until we both dove in, a fit of passion overtaking us.
He tasted of mint and honey as he first kissed my lower lip, sucking it a little, gently nibbling on it in a way that totally turned me on. He then moved to my upper lip, dampening it with his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure from my mouth to my brain.
The third kiss, the most sensual of them all, stunned me. I let out a single exhale as my heart skipped a beat. I had never been kissed like that before. He was sensual, passionate, tender, and commanding all at the same time.
Each gentle finger stroke on my neck and each nibble and twist of his mouth against mine made me quiver.
As he pulled away, the rain died down. The world became still, as though even the storm above us, and the wind spirits around us paused to say, “damn!”
And then the moment ended, almost as quickly as it began. The world became cold and dark after he pulled away. We both released a single chuckle. I imagined he was left dizzy, like me, from our brief connection.
“I’m sorry. Was that okay?” he asked.
I grinned, then used the back of my thumb to wipe saliva off my lower lip before chewing on it. “It was more than okay.”
I suppressed my elation, stretched my legs, and arched my back to release some tension and discomfort in my pants, a tautness made worse by Calder’s form-fitting jeans and a nearly-too
-tight t-shirt that clung to his body from a bit of sweat and rain.
The moment was perfect, so perfect that I felt guilty—like I didn’t deserve to be there. I recalled Jeff continually criticizing me, making me feel like I didn’t deserve good things because I was useless, lazy, or stupid. In Jeff’s own words, I was a “naïve, immature twink” who didn’t deserve all the nice things he got for me. And by nice things, he always meant too-tight underwear, shirts, and pants he demanded I wear.
Evoking Jeff soured the mood, leaving the world grim and unfriendly. I became clammy and felt an urgent need to sit down.
Calder seemed to sense a change in my mood and looked confused.
I should tell him. He deserves to know how fucked up I am.
“Everything okay?” he asked. He genuinely looked concerned, and reached out his hand, hanging onto my pinky in a playful “things are going to be fine” sort of way.
Calder led me to two folding chairs on the far side of the greenhouse. A single, empty cooler made up a sort of end table, littered with old magazines and yellow newspapers. I understood why Calder liked this place. It was like a little perch in the sky where one could see and think about the entire world, literally from a bird’s-eye view.
Returning my attention to him, I tried to form the words to say, to reveal enough to make him understand without unloading so much that I might chase him away. He was flawlessly patient with me, and it sort of pissed me off. I searched for any kind of flaw in his personality, but my infatuation prevented me from seeing anything glaring. Unlike Jeff, Calder had no red flags as of yet.
“So….” I tried to say something but realized the filler word was a false start.
“Take your time.” He sat in the chair opposite me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, twiddling his thumbs while looking at me, wholly and honestly looking at me. Not just toward me, but into my eyes.
I cleared my throat and broke eye contact with him. If I was going to do this, my brain told me I needed to look at the floor, the ceiling, the rain-soaked windows, anywhere but at him. The rough, patch-like fabric frayed under my fingers, giving my hands something to play with while I tried my best to use words.
“Before whatever this is between us continues.” I paused. “And I very, very much want this to continue, I think you should know why I’m here. I’d like to tell you some stuff, but I don’t want to answer any questions. Cool?”
“Cool,” he said, shifting his stance, so he was leaning away from me a little more. I didn’t know if he understood yet that the separation he created between us made things easier. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was being crowded. Jeff always invaded my space in a violent and intentionally controlling way, to the point where I felt any space I did have was leased to me by him.
I nodded at Calder and continued, “I didn’t come to the island just to help Auntie. Back in Atlanta, I was in a horrible place. And by that, I mean a terrible relationship that wasn’t good for me physically or emotionally. So all I’ve known when it comes to romance is that, and it’s left me a little fucked up. I hope you understand. When I change or withdraw or freak out, it’s because of that, not because of you.”
There were a few moments of silence that, to me, felt like forever. Calder still had that gentle smile that was starting to grow on me.
“I’ll understand if you want to run for the hills. You deserve more than someone as screwed up as I am.”
He leaned forward again and placed his hands on mine, pulling them toward his mouth and kissing the back of my hands, a single soft kiss on each.
“How about you let me be the judge of what I do and don’t deserve, huh? I don’t care about your past. I’m interested in the man I see now. I think the Adam Frost I know now is pretty handsome, and amazing, and caring, and sensitive. And I want to know him more.”
I blushed. I never considered myself very attractive. Only the women in my life ever called me that. “You think I’m handsome?”
“I thought I made that obvious the moment I first saw you.”
“Yeah, but I like hearing you say it.”
“Well, then, handsome man, how about we do what we said we would the other night. We take things slow, enjoy spending time with one another, and see where we end up? And if things ever become too much for you, promise me you’ll let me know, and we can work through it. Sounds good?”
I smiled so much it ached. My cheeks had forgotten how to form and maintain an authentic look of glee.
Calder laughed, kissed my hand again, and helped me to my feet.
“I’ll take that goofy grin as a yes. Now let’s go find some dinner or something? I’m a growing boy and need to eat.” He patted his belly three times, then took a last look outside. With the sun already below the horizon we could see close to nothing. The sky was a blanket of ominous clouds illuminated by the street lights from Lahaina. The wind menaced around with more force, and the rain began to pelt the windows. Despite the bulk of the hurricane still being a few hours offshore, the outer edge of it revealed our very long night ahead of us.
I held Calder’s hand and squeezed, doing my best to wordlessly convey trepidation over what the next few days would bring, and how anxious waiting on the edge of a storm made me.
With the gymnasium nearly packed, folks had to spill into nearby classrooms just to find a place of their own. I lost track of Calder half an hour before, just as we had come downstairs and been spirited away as “strong young people” into various tasks.
My job was to work with Auntie in the cafeteria, preparing as much food as we could before the electricity went out. It seemed the school only had the generator hooked up to lights, outlets, and hot water in the gymnasium and locker rooms, meaning any food in the fridge needed cooking.
Auntie had me making as many sandwiches as possible from a massive mound of deli meat donated from the local market and delivered by Jim. I felt terrible for the guy. He regaled me with the story of his getting kicked out of his tiny apartment because “there simply wasn’t enough room for him,” despite his paying all the rent.
And he mumbled about it non-stop. He let everyone with ears know how pissed he was and how, when this was all over, Sarah and he would “have words.” We didn’t hear the end of it until Auntie, fervently focusing on pots of rice and boiling pork, kicked him out of the kitchen.
A few minutes later, I got kicked out as well with a cart full of sandwiches. Despite all the chaos, nearly five-hundred people brought to the school, everyone was in good spirits and more or less behaved themselves.
Everyone behaved except the students who went to school there. They pranced around like they owned the place. To them, this was nothing more than one big, happy-go-lucky, co-ed sleepover. A group of parents in the middle of the gym argued about dividing them by gender to avoid all types of shenanigans.
Just as I reached the row of tables set up to dispense food, a powerful squall shook the roof. The beams stretching across the gym creaked, and the scoreboard they held in place vibrated, sending dust floating down onto the people below.
The lights flickered as I unloaded trays of sandwiches and took my place handing them out. Plate, sandwich, napkin, plate, sandwich, napkin. I did that fifty times in a row, passing out my meager helpings to locals and tourists. The tourists seemed to not play well with others. They all isolated themselves in the corner of the gym, trying their darnedest to secure better accommodations or tickets on non-existent flights off the island.
Another gust of wind beat against the roof and the lights went out for a few seconds, then flickered on and off a few times.
And when they came on for good, this time powered by the loud generator I could hear rumbling outside, I held out a plate with half a sandwich on it to my worst nightmare — a smirking Jeff Thatcher.
I dropped the plate and stepped back, pressed into the wall. A knot in my throat prevented me from releasing any sound whatsoever. No cry for help, no gasp, no exclamation. My eyes dar
ted from one person to the next. No one paid any attention, every single person in the gym wholly unaware that while a hurricane was brewing outside, a calamity had befallen me in the very gymnasium that was supposed to be my shelter.
Jeff picked up the dropped sandwich and bit into it, taking his time to savor the moment. His eyes didn’t move. They were transfixed on me as though he were a predator about to pounce on his prey.
He swallowed and used a napkin to methodically dab the corners of his mouth before rolling it into a ball and tossing it to the floor.
“It’s good to see you, Adam. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to find you here. You made me very worried.” He obviously lied. And sounded more like a snake than I remembered.
Part of my brain didn’t want to believe it was real, that there was no way he could have found me. I had a new phone, I never posted anything revealing on social media, and I even set up the fundraising page online in Tad’s name, making sure no pictures of me were present.
And yet, here he was, trying to weasel his way back into my life, trying to assert control over me again.
“Why don’t we go somewhere more private and… pick up where we left off?” Jeff asked, leaning toward me to whisper the last few words to hide from others his maniacal attitude.
I panicked. Pushing the table into him to create a gap in the row large enough for me to slip through, I barely managed to escape as he reached out to stop me.
Despite Jeff having a firm and painful grip on my wrist, I twisted my arm and freed myself before speed walking across the gym with only a few people in mind. I needed Auntie. Or Tad. Or Calder. Hell, I’d even settle for Jim at this point, but I couldn’t find them.
Perhaps, in my haste, I didn’t look hard enough. I eventually found myself in a dark hallway. The hairs on my neck stood on end as I felt a presence behind me. Spinning around, I saw Jeff waiting at the end of the hall, as though the two of us were playing a sadistic game of hide-and-seek. He was like the villain in a horror movie and, no matter how fast I moved, he would always be behind me. My voice disappeared. I couldn’t call for help. Something about him prevented me from uttering any words.
Sunset Sanctuary Page 10