by Jeny Heckman
It wasn’t far, only a half mile away, but her excitement made the clear, aquamarine water seem miles away. The lengthening streaks of amber from a sun desperate for its rest reflected in her eyes. Raven removed her sandals, stepped onto the cool, smooth sand next to the lifeguard tower, and breathed in the heady aroma of some kind of flower and suntan lotion.
There was a commotion on the east side of the beach, near the rocks, where a large group of people had congregated. Curious, she walked over and tried to see what was happening. The crowd parted just enough for her to behold the most adorable animal she’d ever seen. It was a seal, maybe four feet in length, with a torpedo-shaped body, short, steel-gray fur, and a white spotted underbelly. She was genuinely enamored with the bulbous head, wild, intelligent black eyes, and long whiskers that hung down from a stubby, round snout. He seemed to smile, causing her infectious laugh to broadcast over the collective.
A man she hadn’t noticed knelt next to the seal, turned his head slowly at the sound of her laugh, seemingly searching for someone or something. He wore dark mirrored sunglasses, but somehow she knew the power of the gaze behind the glasses would be transfixing. With the descending sun on her back, the pendant she wore grew hot and felt like a kind of pressure pushing her back. Raven couldn’t take her gaze off the man as the sun shone on his face, making it awash with light. She could tell his hair was very light and that he had a short beard and muscular body.
The weight of his stare scared her. A ripple in the water and the bark of the seal broke the spell of their gaze. She turned, stumbling further down the beach, breathless. Sitting behind a tree at a picnic table, she gazed back at the group, no longer seeing the man, and decided the heat and fatigue conjured him. His looks, personality, and demeanor, of course, would be perfect. Would he fall madly in love with her and profess it with great fervor? Of course, because the man she made up was flawless.
Raven rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. If she ever did meet a man like the one she’d just conjured, who was so —well, beautiful—she wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to speak to him. As the sun finally settled, she watched the colorful performance of nature. Shaking her head, Raven decided it was far and away the most overwhelming and bizarre experience she’d ever had.
Chapter 4
Alaula’s massive sides bulged and heaved, stiff with labor. Her grunts could be heard all the way out in the boat floating nearby. Finn had swum downwind of the animal and now sat inconspicuously on some rocks, away from the eye line of the mother seal.
“Damn,” Finn muttered, clenching his jaw. “Breech.”
He raised the binoculars again, then taking a chance, he stealthily navigated the rocks to some soft sand and a better vantage point. The mother was helpless and concentrating hard. He didn’t want her stressed anymore by his presence while trying to deliver her pup.
The mother, he’d be surprised to know, was aware of his presence. She felt a kinship with this particular human and always felt security rather than fear when he was nearby.
Finn could sense her struggle and pain, as anxious as any father would be. He never questioned the quasi-connection he had with sea life, always believing that most marine biologists had a certain level of uncanny ability. To Finn, it was more about being observant of the animals, rather than some kind of telepathy. A talent, of which Nate liked to accuse him, along with being a sea creature himself in another life.
Alaula looked back over what would’ve been her shoulder, toward her hind flipper, trying to gain comfort, inching her pup out with every movement. Rolling and gyrating, groaning and turning until there was the explosive expulsion of a small, wriggling black mass, escaping from her womb.
The boat members gave a loud cheer and Finn, who’d been grinning, turned and silenced them with one scathing look.
The pup, encased in its creamy amniotic sac, tried to bark. It flopped and wiggled, then stilled, as if too tired to even breathe. After a last great effort, it was finally able to break through the thin barrier. Finn moved a little closer as the mother began to call to her offspring. The pup looked around in the general direction of the familiar sound and began to inch its way up to her, getting caught in its afterbirth. She called out in encouragement again, flipping sand over the pup and her birth leavings, prompting the seal to move faster.
“Why does she do that?” Dawson asked on the boat. Holly glanced up and watched the seagulls swoop above.
“Maybe to hide everything from the birds.” She pointed up at the gluttons circling for food.
“Aw,” Dawson replied, “good mama.”
“That was so cool,” Jake commented, video camera capturing the pup as he finally found nourishment and latched on.
Finn, alone on the beach, beamed with pride. This seal was alive. No one knew if he’d stay that way. However, right now, he was alive, and that was worth a celebration.
“Kaimi,” he said, watching the youngster suckle. “Kaimi, the seeker.”
He looked toward the boat and his team documenting the scene with photos and notes. After a time, he lifted a hand into the air and rotated a circle, indicating it was time to leave. Walking into the water, he had a strange feeling, almost a pulling, and turned to take one last look at the pair. He almost swore the new mother looked at him and barked. He smiled and instantly dismissed this notion, before swimming with long, clean strokes to the waiting boat.
Back onboard he moved with purpose to the bridge and took the controls from Jake. As they moved away, the small group watched the duo, valiant in their efforts, bond. Alaula laid her head down, exhausted. She’d earned her rest, and they would leave her to it.
“So, what happens to the mom and pup now?” Finn quizzed the trio, as they motored back to the harbor.
“Mom doesn’t eat for five to seven weeks while her baby nurses.” Jake immediately answered.
“Pup,” Finn corrected. “And how much weight will she lose?”
“A third of her weight,” Jake answered again.
“Dawson, how much weight will the pup gain in that time?”
“Like, a hundred pounds.”
“More like one fifty to one seventy-five. Holly, how much did that pup weigh?”
“Um, like thirty pounds?”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“No, it’s thirty pounds.”
He questioned them further, eventually trailing off for everyone to enjoy their own thoughts on what they’d witnessed. As usual, the girls tended to congregate in the cabin when Finn drove, to the chagrin of Jake, who was then relegated to stand or sit alone in the stern.
Finn’s gray and white, checked board shorts were slung low on his hips, and his light blue tee played across the muscles in his chest as he steered. He turned briefly to look behind and around the boat for traffic. Noticing the girls eyeing him, he smiled and considered, causing a seductive grin to slide across Holly’s face. He faced forward again, working the controls.
“Ah, Finn?” Holly addressed him tentatively.
“Yeah,” he said without looking back.
“I was just wondering something.”
“Wondering what?”
“What’s your tattoo of? The one on your back?” She clarified, just in case he had more than one and pointed to the part of it that was extending beyond his tee shirt, blowing up in the wind.
“Oh,” he lifted the tee-shirt up, exposing his back. “It’s a trident.”
The black and white artwork was shadowed beautifully, almost looking three-dimensional. It was a long, regal trident. The staff began in the small of his back, tracing straight up each vertebra, to between the bottom of his scapulae. The joint connecting the prongs was ornately grooved, and the arms of the trident splayed across the planes of muscle in his back and onto his shoulders. Each prong was capped with a medieval and sinister arrowhead. The center prong rising straight up his neck, also capped by an arrowhead, was so razor sharp that the result was both beautiful and ruthless at the same ti
me.
Holly let one hand rest on his hip and allowed her other fingers to linger on the smooth surface of his skin.
By the time they reached the docks he was wondering if he should indeed get Holly naked and risk the fallout. In any case, he didn’t think anything could destroy his mood.
Nate stood on the dock in typical khaki cargo shorts and gray long-sleeve tee, obtained from the brewery across the street. His aviator sunglasses sat hooked on the back of his head. Not exactly the picture of a boss, Finn thought, grinning.
“So, one hard-core bitch today, eh man?” Nate reached out for the lines thrown to him.
“Ya heard?” Finn nimbly jumped off the boat laughing and began to tie it off. “She labored hard, man. The pup was pretty average size but breech, so I’d say hard-core bitch was pretty accurate. She was perfect.”
Nate straightened and turned toward the team, telling them to finish docking, then turned to Finn and jerked his chin.
“Come in here a minute. I gotta talk to you about a couple of things.” Finn straightened and took an exasperated breath.
“Why doesn’t this sound like a good thing?” When his boss didn’t answer, he turned to his crew. “I want all that data entered and pics uploaded before you take off.” The crew groaned but grudgingly accepted the time-consuming task.
He entered the reception area and walked straight back to Nate’s office. Sitting down on a padded reception chair, he crossed an ankle on a knee. Nate threw him a beer from the small mini fridge he kept in his office.
“Still got some work to do out there, boss,” Finn said and began to throw it back, but Nate held up a hand.
“Naw, you’re probably gonna need it.”
Finn inhaled, closed his eyes for a second, then removed his glasses and threw them on the desk. He snapped the beer open, bracing for whatever was coming.
Nate was always caught off guard by Finn’s eyes, when confronted with them so abruptly, even after all the years of friendship. The color of blue graphite, with almost sea-green starbursts in the center and dark charcoal rims, they were almost from another realm of the universe.
“A’ight,” Finn said cautiously, “what?”
“So, I got a call from Sunderland. He met with that team.”
“Which one, solar panels or turbines?”
“Turbines.” Nate slid on his reading glasses and looked down at a notepad on his desk. “That outfit from LA.”
“Yeah?” Finn stared at him suspiciously. “And?”
“Yeah.” Nate hesitated. “He’s going through with it.”
“Motherfucker!” Finn roared and jumped from his chair, continuing with a colorful stream of expletives that could be heard all the way down to the docks.
The crew looked at each other and began to work faster. They didn’t want to hang around any longer than necessary now.
“Finn…” Nate waited him out then said forcefully, “Finn! God damn it, sit down.”
He stopped his tirade but didn’t sit. Instead, he prowled like a big cat, before walking to the window, crossing his arms over his chest, and looking out to ocean, seething.
“Did nothing I say make a dent at all?” he asked, without turning around.
“Yes, but he’s thinking of the larger picture.”
“Larger picture?” the younger man repeated. “Did he not see the data I gave him?” Now he turned and raised his hands. “And what about the politics? I can’t imagine this’ll go over big with anyone. I mean who wants to look at turbines fuckin’ up their view?”
“I don’t know. Somehow he’s worked out something with all the players, and they agreed to a trial run.”
“What about the data?”
“He says he ran a cause-and-effect and ultimately decided that he’ll get the facility to run more efficiently. It’s the only facility on Kaua’i, Finn, and it’s a fucking expensive one.” He drank his beer.
“There’s going to be a fight.”
“Oh, hell yeah, there’ll be a fight. Everyone’s gonna go nuts. All the arguments will be made. That could work in our favor.”
“I just can’t believe…”
“He’s got a foundation to answer to, Finn, and investors. They’re excited about being pioneers of the technological research or some such shit. And they need costs down, or they’re going to start cutting things.”
“And it’s good for the environment.”
“And it’s good to say it’s for the environment.”
“There’s only fourteen hundred of them left, and they’re just gonna pull the plug on ’em?” Finn all but spat.
“No, they’ll do what they can, but it all costs money. They sponsor other species too, Finn. Other programs. If they start pulling out because we’re unwilling to adapt, then what happens to the seals? To speak nothing of our program. They barely came out here before. We have to be able to stay, or it’s going to be that way again.”
“It doesn’t matter a good God damn at this point. If they pull money, the seals die. If those ridiculous things are built, they’re also gonna die.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh, don’t I? Really Nate?” Finn raised his eyebrows at his boss, then turned and slammed himself back into his chair and reached for his beer. “Where are they gathering their data from, some shitbag computer?” Finn demanded. “Those turbine blades don’t give a shit whether animals swim into their path. And the animals sure as hell aren’t expecting them, ’cause they don’t fucking belong there.” He concentrated on his beer. “Can I talk to Sunderland and try to make a dent?”
“I’m sure dentin’ his head wouldn’t be helpful,” Nate consoled, raising a hand when Finn began to speak. “Besides, he’s on his way home now. We’re meeting again next week in Honolulu. Then don’t forget his wife’s throwing that fundraiser in a few weeks, and he expects us all to be there.”
“I want in on that meeting.”
“Like that’ll happen.” Nate snorted. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat. We’ll let the grunts finish up.”
“Can’t. Dee’s making dinner.”
“Oh yeah, it’s Sunday.”
“All day, but I’m sure she also heard about the pup before its own mother did. She’ll want to celebrate.” Finn looked at him scathingly. “I want in on that meeting, Nate, I mean it.”
“I’ll see if I can’t set something up that you can take part in, okay?” Nate held up a hand when his subordinate started to speak. “I know. I’m hurting too, but we have to put out one fire at a time, and it helps no one, least of all the seals, when you go off like this.”
Finn just glared at him, grabbed his sunglasses from the desk, and punched out the door into the sunlight.
Approaching his house thirty minutes later, Finn could hear Israel Kamakawiwo’ole singing about rainbows, his grandmother’s favorite. Knowing her as he did, he headed straight back to her garden. It always lifted his spirits to walk through the French doors and into the Eden she had created. Hau trees with bright red blossoms, plumeria with their soft, dough-like petals, giant hapu’u tree ferns, orchids of every color, and in the center her pride and joy, a massive fifty-year-old banyan tree planted on the day of her son’s birth. The woman could literally grow anything—fruits, vegetables, flowers, life. She had most certainly created his.
“Dee?”
“Ah, hola ka’u mea i aloha ai, pehea i oe?”
She peeked around a shrub and stood up, wearing a bright pink muumuu with teal, gold, and blue flowers splashed over it. A wreath of plumeria encircled the brim of her sizeable, trademark floppy hat, which sat somewhat haphazardly on her pinned up, messy, silver hair. Intelligent eyes, the color of bright bluebells, sparkled out at him and there was a long smudge of dirt on her nose and cheekbone. Finn smiled at the being that was his grandmother, as he always did, but this time, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“I’m fine. So, what’re you doing out here?”
“Oh, puttering.” She eyed hi
m briefly, then looked again. “Finn, what’s happened?”
“What? Oh, nothing,” he muttered.
“It’s not nothing. I heard about the birth on the squawk-box. I thought we’d be celebrating tonight. Did something happen to the pup?”
“No, nothing like that.” Lifting his hands, he smoothed back his hair a little. “Nate just told me they’re going ahead with those tidal turbines in the water. Probably about six, seven miles off the PMRF.”
“I’m surprised the Navy would let them do that. Why are they putting them way the hell out there?” She placed a hand on top of her hat to straighten it while brushing her other hand off on her dress.
“Admittedly, I don’t know for sure if they are. It’s just what was floated before, and there’s a lot of hands in this pie, so who knows how and why. All the other beaches are pretty picturesque and touristy.”
“And they sure as hell aren’t gonna set them off Nā Pali.”
Sighing, Dee walked over to the outdoor table on the porch, where a pitcher of homemade lemonade perched. She poured out two glasses and handed one to Finn. Slipping out of his flip flops, he paced in the freshly cut, plush grass, sipping the sweet and tangy beverage.
“They’re meeting next week. So, I’m hoping Nate will let me try to figure out how to change Sunderland’s mind, for all the good that’ll do.”
“He’s not an unreasonable man, Finn,” she called out, walking into the kitchen to put the lemonade away. “Just give him facts and numbers. When that doesn’t work give him pictures.”
She took one from the refrigerator of his Alaula’s playful face, then walked back outside and handed it to him. “Now, how can you say no to a little face like that?” She looked deviously at him. Then, only because she wanted to see him smile, purred, “Or I can go over there and work my sexual prowess on him.”
“Ew, stop talking.” Finn rewarded her with the smile that had let him get away with nearly everything he wanted when he was younger. However, just as quickly he frowned again and sipped his lemonade, thinking.