Every time our eyes met Shayla and I broke into an “I can’t believe this is really happening” grin. After the helicopter set down lightly, we both laughed with joy.
“Thank you so much for bringing me along,” I said solemnly, “You have no idea how much I needed to get away.”
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you… Hell, I wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for you!”
We both burst into hysterical laughter again, for although it was true, it seemed like something from out of a movie. Once more, were overcome with a giddy feeling of freedom and an exciting sense of adventure. Our guide looked at us oddly, and we dissolved into another giggly laughing fit at the look on his face. He seemed relieved to deposit us at our hotel.
Once we got settled in and had our dinner I slipped away to call Ethan. It was late at night in California, but he picked up right away.
“Marina! Are you okay? Why didn’t you call?”
I knew I’d kept him waiting, but things had been happening so fast I wasn’t even sure what day it was.
“It’s okay, I’m fine,” I said soothingly.
“What happened?” he asked anxiously, “What did they say?”
“They believed me– they didn’t even ask about the mermaids.”
“Really?” he sounded relieved, “Good! When are you getting home?”
“Uhm, something happened and I’m… Hey– Shayla did really great! She was in a bunch of French newspapers, and all the designers are fighting to have her in their shows!”
“Of course they are,” he chuckled.
“Yeah… well, she got this big job. The swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated. They’re shooting it in Maui with a surfer theme, and they wanted a model who could surf.”
“Wow! Shayla?” he sounded bemused, “Who would have believed it? But then again… she’s got you.”
“Stop that,” I said, irritated. He knew I didn’t like it when he brought it up.
“I’m sorry,” his voice softened, “I miss you. When are you coming home?”
“I miss you too,” I said, and it was suddenly so true I ached, “I just got to Hawaii with Shayla.”
“WHAT?”
“It all happened so fast… They chartered her a jet, and she really wanted me to go and–”
“You couldn’t take five minutes to call me?” he sounded upset.
I thought about telling him about Marissa and Olivia, but decided not to get into it over the phone.
“Something kinda bad happened, and I needed to get out of Paris, and then I never got the chance…”
“I thought you said it went okay! How long are you gonna be there?” his voice was tight.
“They’re going to shoot the pictures tomorrow, and we were thinking about trying to surf a little the next day before I–”
“I suppose you’re gonna meet up with Kimo.” I was taken aback, surprised that he would bring him up, startled at the bitter edge to his voice.
“No! Not at all! I’m flying to San Francisco the day after tomorrow.”
He was quiet, and I could tell his feelings were hurt.
“Look, I’ll be home soon. Hey– Evie was upset that I wouldn’t come straight back to Paris along with Shayla!”
“That I believe,” he said unhappily.
“What’s going on with the eminent domain case?” I asked, not wanting to even think about Evie, “Did Lue get himself a good lawyer?”
“He doesn’t need one,” he said, “She won the special election. We have a new Congresswoman. She’s putting a stop to the whole deal.”
“Already? That’s great news!” I said happily.
“Yeah.” He didn’t sound as excited about it as he should have.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing.” I could feel the weight of the whole ocean between us.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s so pretty here, I wish you were with me.”
He sighed into the phone, and he sounded tired, “Maybe someday.”
“I love you.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll call you when I get back to Aptos.”
“Alright.”
I snapped the phone shut, disturbed that he would bring up Kimo, surprised by the tone of his voice when he did. It’s not like I came to Hawaii for anything other than Shayla’s photo shoot… and to be honest, the surfing. Ethan sounded about as irrational concerning Kimo as I was about Amber. The big difference was, I never dated Kimo, and I was certainly never in love with him. When I slipped the phone back into my purse the aquamarine caught my eye.
I held it up to the light, admiring the sparkling blue green stone. Why did love have to make everyone so crazy? I always thought that being in love would be smooth sailing on tranquil seas. Instead, I felt like I was being tossed around in a violent storm with only a few fleeting moments of calm. Ethan and I tried to chart a path, but we kept getting blown off track by unforeseen winds.
I put the necklace back on with determination.
I remembered some character in a Shakespeare play saying, “The course of true love never did run smooth”. At the time it meant nothing to me, but now I could see the truth of it. I guess we all sailed in perilous waters, and the best we could hope for was to stay afloat.
I for one, planned on keeping my head above the water.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
FAME
The next morning we left our room to catch the shuttle that was scheduled to take us to the photo shoot. It was pretty easy to spot our group, for the dozen or so people milling about in the lobby stood out like a sore thumb among the typical Hawaiian tourists. Impossibly tall, thin girls stood head and shoulders above a couple of decidedly less glamorous, but infinitely more interesting creative types. I immediately recognized them as the stylists and makeup artists.
We joined the group, introducing ourselves, and were rudely scrutinized by a few of the more famous models, “Who are you?” a gazelle-like brunette with a Russian accent asked me, guessing correctly that I wasn’t the swimsuit model type.
“She’s the surfing consultant,” Shayla announced boldly, glaring at her.
“Oh,” her tone changed, and she pulled me aside to confess, “I’m scared of the water… I need all the advice I can get.”
The girls all seemed most interested in Shayla, eyeing her with curious speculation. I could hear them muttering amongst themselves about how she had been brought to the island in a specially chartered jet and helicoptered in at the last minute. They seemed annoyed that they’d had to fly commercial, and take a long hot bus ride to get here.
If Shayla heard them, she didn’t show it, “Marina! Come check it out!” I followed her to the edge of a large indoor pond that was on the other side of the reception desk. As soon as we reached the water’s edge we attracted the attention of a school of huge koi fish, mouths gaping and smacking at the air as they begged for food. We offered them our fingers to gum and were squealing with laughter when a waiter from the restaurant kindly brought us out some fish food for them.
I watched them greedily devour the floating pellets, jostling for position and thrusting themselves out of the water on top of each other. Their iridescent scales and colorful flashes of red and gold reminded me of Lorelei twisting and tumbling in the waves. All at once I missed surfing alongside her with a hard ache that hit me square in the chest. Images of the past flashed through my mind; joyful memories of gliding on my surfboard, laughing as the three mermaids wove in and out of the waves beneath my feet.
When the shuttle pulled up in front I sprang to my feet, slinging my bag over my shoulder, “Let’s get to the beach!”
We took our seats and bounced along merrily, grinning broadly whenever our eyes met. The bumpy road we took pierced the heart of a lush rain forest that vibrated with every known shade of green. Luscious exotic flowers hung from vines like colorful jewelry, and giant bamboo stalks soared sk
yward, towering over the guava and passionfruit trees that crowded the narrow passageway. Glimpses of deep blue sea peeked through the foliage, and bottomless gulches with thundering waterfalls lurked under the narrow bridges we traversed. We finally pulled off the road and descended to a beach unlike anything I’d ever seen.
It was a perfect crescent, ringed by craggy rocks with a graceful arch off to one side. It reminded me of many of the remote little coves that Lorelei had taken me to, only the sand was black! Shayla and I looked at each other with excited eyes and rushed to get out of our seats.
There was already a camera crew milling about by the shore with giant umbrella light reflectors, and a pop-up tent was in place for wardrobe and makeup. A variety of colorful surfboards were leaning up against a food service truck with a bunch of guys hanging around it. They all stood at attention as the models piled out of the shuttle.
Shayla took my arm, “C’mon, let’s go get you a swimsuit!” she said, dragging me into the tent. They were expecting her, and she repeated her story about me being a surf coach that had just been specially flown in. To my surprise, no one in the wardrobe department questioned her, handing me a dozen or so suits to try.
Shayla winked at me as I headed for the dressing room screen, whispering, “BS, courtesy of my first stepdad!”
I picked the suit I deemed most likely to stay on, wriggling into it. It was barer than I liked, scooping low in front with peekaboo cutouts and decorative brass rings I could have lived without. It would have to do. Beggars can’t be choosers, I reminded myself.
Shayla and the other models were gathered together for hair and makeup, and I slipped out of the tent to check out the beach. The black sand was coarse between my toes, made up entirely of ground up lava rock. You could see tubes where the lava had flowed down to the shore, and black rocks peeked out from the creeping green forest that was doing its best to cover every square inch of earth.
I stood at the water’s edge, delighted by the warm ocean lapping at my feet. It felt like bathwater, and I shivered with anticipation. Unfortunately, the waves were not at all what I’d hoped for. They were small and mushy, breaking directly onto the shore. Even body surfing was pretty much out of the question. I sighed heavily, echoing the soft whoosh of the ocean. Hopefully, there was better surf elsewhere on the island.
One thing I could do was swim, so I picked my way around a few sections of jagged lava, wading through the foam to get into deeper water. The warm saltwater felt great, surrounding me like a soft blanket, and I wished Ethan was beside me to feel it too. I dove under, opening my eyes to see the blurry outlines of a jagged reef below. The seafloor dropped off rapidly, disappearing completely into a black void.
I swam out further, and once I cleared the edge of the crescent, powerful ocean currents started pulling me away, making it difficult for me to stay even with the mouth of the cove. I was a little alarmed, and I started to tread water, catching my breath for the swim back in.
“I can hear her,” a voice rang out.
I froze in the water, looking around. I was alone, and rapidly being swept further out to sea.
“No, it can’t be,” another voice said. This time I put my head under the surface, looking around for mermaids. I couldn’t see anything but a deep bottomless sea.
“Listen to her!”
A shiver of fear ran through me. Was I losing my mind? A surge of adrenaline set my pulse racing, and I put my head down and swam as hard as I could, barely making any progress. I stopped, gasping for breath.
“Try it now,” an urgent voice called out. I put my head down and swam again until I managed to get out of the current. Once I got back into the cove I bobbed in the swells, resting and deciding how to maneuver into shore. I closed my eyes and concentrated, listening for the voices to return, but they were gone. I finally looked up to see a crowd had gathered on the beach. I rode in on a large swell, avoiding the jagged lava to catch my footing on the pebbly rocks. I was wringing out my ponytail as I waded in, surprised to find Shayla running up to me with a panicked look on her face.
“Oh my God! Are you okay?” she cried. There were three big guys behind her with their boards, and a group of models stood off to the side watching them. I recognized Gabe, a friend of Kimo’s I hadn’t seen since we’d surfed together in California. He had the same scared look on his face as Shayla. I noticed his arm was in a cast.
“I’m fine,” I told her, “Hey Gabe! How are you? I smiled, a little embarrassed about my revealing suit. I remembered the fun times we’d spent surfing together, and I was genuinely happy to see him.
“I’m good,” he said scratching his head, looking a bit bemused, “We were just about to come and rescue you.”
“Oh… thanks anyway,” I nodded, looking out of the cove, “It is kind of scary out there.”
“You can say that again!” he said, looking at me like I was crazy.
“Marina, this beach is dangerous!” Shayla said, “They just warned us to stay out of the water! I guess we’re only here for black sand shots.” She handed me a towel, “They said some tourist chick got swept out and drowned two days ago!”
“Didn’t you see the warning?” Gabe pointed at a sign posted at the beach entrance, a swimmer in a circle with a slash through it. I’d been so focused on getting to the water I’d completely missed it.
I shrugged and shook my head no, sorry I’d worried everyone, “What happened to your arm?”
“Skateboarding,” he said sheepishly, “Gotta have something to do when it’s dumping.”
I turned to look back out at the sea that had nearly pulled me away, and remembered the voices echoing inside my head. I got a sudden chill despite the warm tropical sun.
Shayla was apologetic, “I’m sooo sorry! I totally didn’t see it either. We’re gonna do the surfing shots at the next beach!”
“It’s not your fault.” I blotted my face and arms with the towel, “I’m alright.” The crowd dispersed, wandering back to watch the photo shoot that was taking place further up the beach.
“I don’t know what they were all worried about,” I overheard one model say to another, “She’s like, the surfing consultant.”
When we pulled up to the next beach Shayla peered out the window and smiled wide, “Way, way, better… check out that gnarly break!”
I looked out across a long stretch of salt and pepper sand to see the beautiful line of a surfable wave, a perfect right hander.
This time, Shayla went to wardrobe while I went straight for the prop surfboards, picking through the pile to see if I could find a couple of suitable ones. The production crew had spared no expense, and it looked as though they’d cleaned out a surf shop. Gabe came over to talk with me, introducing me to his friends, who were all local surfers that had been hired to provide “atmosphere” in the form of backdrops for the bikini clad models.
“Marina shredded in Santa Cruz with me and Kimo,” he told his friends, and I could see them raise a few eyebrows skeptically. Apparently I didn’t look like I was capable of much in the way of surfing.
“Speak of the Devil,” said one of them, nodding towards the gravel lot.
A screamingly bright yellow Lamborghini pulled up with a cloud of dust and two men stepped out. I recognized the passenger immediately.
“Kimo!” Gabe waved to him, pointing at me. He lowered his head as if to draw a bead on me and I saw the white flash of his smile as he came sprinting across the sand. Uh-oh, I thought, Ethan will never believe I didn’t set this up.
“Marina!” before I could say anything he grabbed me in a bear hug, lifting me off my feet and shaking me to and fro. “Whachu doin’ here?” he cried, squeezing me again before putting me down.
“Getting crushed to death, apparently!” I scolded him, catching my breath.
He threw his head back and laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in. The driver of the gaudy sports car sauntered his way across the sand, approaching us with a self-assured walk. He had longish s
treaked brown hair and like Kimo, wore board shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. His eyes were concealed behind mirrored sunglasses. He approached our group and all the other surfers rushed to welcome him with fist bumps and back slaps.
When he made his way through the gauntlet of greetings he approached us, scanning the beach like he owned it.
Kimo gestured to him, “Marina, ya know Matt Stone.”
I held out my hand politely, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve met.”
His face registered puzzlement, and the crowd of surfers burst into laughter. Now I was confused.
“You know… Matt Stone… the actor,” Gabe prompted me.
“Oh,” I said, “What kind of acting do you do?”
Now the crowd around us really started cracking up, and I looked around self-consciously. All the models seemed to be watching us, no doubt riveted by the appearance of the taxi yellow sports car. Matt didn’t look too happy, and I reeled back a little, not in on the joke.
Kimo wiped his eyes, full of mirth at his friend’s discomfort, “Don’t take it personal brah– Marina’s not your everyday kine surfer girl.”
Matt flashed a perfect smile and lifted his glasses, twinkling his baby blues at me as though I’d suddenly know him. I looked around in desperation.
“Didn’t you see ‘Tropical Thunderbolt’?” asked Gabe. I shook my head no.
“It was like, the biggest movie last year!” another surfer blurted out.
“Oh, I see,” I smiled with relief, “I was in India most of last year… I guess I missed it.”
They all seemed perplexed, and I was starting to feel a little odd, but I shrugged it off. I turned to Kimo, “What are you doing here?”
Now Kimo looked at me like I was crazy, “Dis my home! What are you doin here? Are you a swimsuit model now?”
I blushed, tightening the towel around my waist, “Not me! I’m here to surf. Do you remember Shayla?” I turned around to wave her over. She came scurrying up nervously, sporting a miniscule tiger print bikini; by the look on her face it was clear she knew who Matt Stone was.
03 The Fate Of The Muse - Marina's Tales Page 15