The Day Of The Wave

by Wicks, Becky

  We're on the road in minutes. My arms are locked tight around Ben again and I realize my heart is pounding in my ears. I can't stop the guilty feeling that blazes through me when I think of Colin's face on that call just now; how he looked when he realized I was with a guy.

  God, Izzy. Stop.

  This isn't just about him, or Ben. Something had to change. Everywhere I look I see what happened... but it's worse here, at the heart of it. I see the water, and what came after the wave. I hear the screaming. Even looking over the swimming pool this morning made me think of how it was - the one at our resort. It was filled with an upturned car and a dead dog trapped in a cage, and the room my parents had gone back to was demolished.

  'It's not far, hold on tight,' Ben says. I do as he tells me, feeling his abs under my hands as he points out the tsunami escape routes along the way. There are lots of signs now, all of them triangles with pictures of a man looking at a big squiggly wave. They're a comfort and a reminder all at once. I groan into the wind. I have so many gratitudes right now. I'm grateful for sleeping a night by the ocean, for putting my feet in it, eating dinner on the sand and knowing this amazing man is alive and doing incredible things. Maybe that's all I need. Maybe I should get a new a passport ASAP anyway. I could still go to Bali on my own.

  'Whooooo hooooooo!' Justin zooms out from behind us now and overtakes, grinning and honking his horn. Ben laughs and I feel his back shaking. I realize I've got my cheek pressed to it again.

  'You're insane!' I yell at Justin, watching his I heart Bangkok shirt blowing out behind him. But I'm laughing at him now, too. A group of local guys carrying freshly-caught fish on sticks stop and wave as we roar past. They're wearing nothing but shorts. Colin would never see that on his fold-up bicycle, on his way to Sainsburys.

  We pull up finally at a dusty patch of dirt by a large, one-story concrete building. There are grassy hills around us, a small field with goalposts and a swing set on a dusty playground. Before I can even take my helmet off, a bunch of maybe fifteen Thai kids are running up to us, shrieking. 'Hey guys!' Ben calls out, helping me off the bike. 'How was class?'

  'Good mister Ben,' they chorus. They're so cute. They're dressed in colorful clothes and as they jump around us they pull us into the middle of a swirling rainbow. They must be six, maybe seven, some of them. All of them are beaming like Santa just pulled up in his sleigh. A western guy steps out of the building wearing jeans and a shirt that's smart but a bit crumpled.

  'Hey buddy, how's it going?' he says, holding his hand out to Ben. Ben shakes it firmly, introduces me and Justin.

  'Sorry for interrupting. This is Marcus,' Ben tells us, putting a hand to his shoulder. 'One of our temporary teachers from Boston. When do you leave, man?'

  'Next Wednesday,' Marcus says. 'I'm working on a replacement for my shifts, don't worry.'

  'That's OK,' Ben says. 'Mind if I show these guys inside?'

  'Sure.'

  'What have you been learning?' Justin asks the kids, stepping up to the entrance with a girl who's grabbed his hand. He looks bemused and I smile, noting the Khao Lak School for English sign above the door.

  'Fruit!', one boy answers him enthusiastically as Ben and Marcus both motion me inside. Some of the kids pile in after us and one little girl with a name badge reading 'Mali' clutches at my hand, grinning up at me. She has pink ribbons in her hair.

  The place is basic, just one classroom. White painted walls are covered in posters of alphabets and sea creatures. There are maybe twenty desks on the concrete floor and a white board at the front is showing pictures of apples, bananas and oranges drawn on it from their lesson. Some shelves at the back are holding plastic boxes full of books and various toys and things.

  'Back inside, guys, sit down!' Marcus calls. Little Mali drops my hand and the kids do as he says obediently, filing into their little wooden chairs and huddling over their notebooks. He picks up the lesson where he left off and Ben lowers his voice to Justin and I.

  'We built it five years ago,' he whispers, 'with money from the foundation. In the first ten months we raised almost two hundred thousand dollars. The rest went into housing for the village. We put some of Dream Dive's proceeds back in too, every month. There's always something to buy for this place.'

  'That's great,' Justin whispers back, following him with me back to a plaque on the wall by the door. There are names inscribed on it, lots of them and my breath catches as I realize this must be a tiny version of the one out near Baan Nam Khem; the fishing village where so many people died. That's where the biggest memorial is - the wall and the giant wave with the photo of my mom and dad on it.

  'The Tsunami Relief Network helped to fund bigger schools elsewhere,' Ben tells us, 'and obviously other charities set up their own stuff, but there was a lot to rebuild, as you know.'

  'All these names,' Justin says, frowning as he studies them up close on the plaque.

  'We built this in memory of the friends they lost,' Ben replies, motioning around us. 'Some of these kids and the kids before them all lost friends and siblings and other family members. Every name is someone from the village who died.' He puts a finger to a line on the plaque. 'That's Sonthi's sister,' he says. 'That's his cousin... and this one up here, that's Sasi's brother.'

  'Sasi?'

  'Sonthi's ex girlfriend. He's still in love with her, he just doesn't say it.'

  I realize my eyes are filling up with tears. I swipe a hand across my face as Marcus recites the contents of an English fruit basket behind us. Ben's done so much for this place. I've done nothing.

  BEN

  Izzy's quiet as the lesson wraps up and we head to the playground, watch the kids rolling on their backs and bellies down the hill. Justin's pushing a couple of girls on the swing set, like the big goofy kid he clearly is. I love the energy here. So many more kids than adults died in the tsunami, but the ones who were left kicked the grown-ups back into action, for sure. They still do. Everything starts with the kids.

  'When did you come back here?' Izzy asks me now.

  I turn to her, note the sun on her shiny hair again. She's wearing a bikini under her shirt and I almost want to ask her if she wants to come snorkeling. I don't dare. I know she won't. 'I didn't come back till I was twenty,' I say. 'But Sonthi and I talked a lot before that about our plans. I tried to bring him to the U.S once, but we couldn't get him a visa.'

  'So you came back alone?' she asks.

  'Yeah. I joined a group of other survivors to raise the money in the end, and Sonthi was on the ground here. By the time I got back the school was almost built.'

  'You're amazing, Ben,' she whispers now. She doesn't look at me as she says it. Her eyes are still on the swings, but something in her voice makes me want to reach for her hand again. I don't. 'They love you, all these kids,' she says as one little boy kicks a ball to me. I stand up, kick it back to him. He's tackled instantly to the ground, screeching and giggling in the dirt. It's so goddam hot but they never stop moving. I sit down again, look at her bare legs in her shorts. They've caught some sun now, from sitting on my bike.

  'I had to do something,' I tell her. 'I wanted to come back here right away, after my mom took me home, but I wasn't allowed, obviously. I had to finish up school and pretend I was a normal teenager.'

  She smiles weakly, nods her head. 'I know that feeling. So you stayed in D.C?'

  'Yeah. What about you? Your godmother was the one you told me worked in London, at the magazine, right?'

  She nods. 'Maria. You have a really good memory. I lived with her and her husband Tom for a few years, in Watford. That's just outside of London. Then I got work experience and a job, and then another job, and about ninety house shares...'

  'Woah, why that many?'

  'Well, not quite that many, but...' She looks up at me. I note the freckles around her nose as she frowns.

  'But what?' I say.

  'I've lived in a lot of places since my parent's house got sold. I suppose I was always looking
for home. The right one, I mean.'

  'Did you find it?'

  'I thought I did. Turns out I didn't.' She looks away quickly. 'I moved back in with my godmother a few weeks ago. So, you've been here in Khao Lak since you were twenty?'

  I take off my hat, run my hand through my hair again, note the emotions change the expression on her face as she watches the kids. I can tell there's probably a lot she doesn't want to say... unless it's just me she doesn't know how to talk to.

  'I saw the school get set up,' I answer. 'Some older expats were overseeing it, getting equipment in and all that stuff. I travelled. I came here on and off, you know, like a base, but I went away, earned money however I could, worked in bars till I got my scuba instructor certificate. I taught English for a couple of years, too, in South Korea.'

  'Really?' Her eyes are wide now, intrigued.

  'The kids there are incredible, so smart. You can earn a lot of money doing that, too. But my heart was always here.'

  'I can see that,' she says as the ball is kicked back over to me. 'So, you're still close to your mom, right? And your stepdad?'

  I feel my jaw start to pulse instantly. 'I guess,' I say after a second, kicking the ball back, hard. I can almost hear Izzy's brain working as she studies me in consternation, but I don't turn my head.

  'Where else did you travel?' she asks.

  'That's a big list. I went all around South America, learnt Spanish in Cordoba in Argentina - that's a great place to party, by the way. I taught English again in Peru... oh and in Bolivia for a couple months, but Colombia beach life was pretty hard to resist. And the diving, too. I spent a couple more months up near Taganga - a place called Palomino Beach. Heard of it?'

  'No!'

  'It's close to Venezuela, not touristy yet at all. I learnt to surf there, got a girl, got even better at Spanish, you know... but then I heard about a diving job in the Galapagos, so I got my search and rescue qualification out there and stayed a season.'

  'The Galapagos?' She looks awed. 'That's supposed to be one of the most beautiful places on the planet! So many animals, right?'

  'It's another world,' I say. 'It's everything you've heard about. A guy I taught to dive out there offered me seasonal work someplace outside of Brisbane, so I went to Australia after that and picked avocadoes for cash. That was pretty intense - long days, you know, lots of spiders. Saw a lot of cool stuff though, especially when I got to the west coast, and north. They have bodies of water up near Darwin where the sharks swim with the crocodiles.'

  'You're kidding?'

  'Deadly serious. Emphasis on the deadly.' I wink at her. 'I bought a camper with another guy from Vancouver and we drove around New Zealand doing odd jobs on organic farms...'

  'Ben, you've done everything!'

  'Not everything,' I say. 'I've never been to Europe. And I never went to college.'

  'You regret that?'

  'Sometimes. I found out I could do my masters degree in International Development. I was planning to focus on disaster recovery. I even planned to write my dissertation on all the community-based disaster recovery that happened here but in the end I thought I'd be better off just being out here and doing what I could, you know? Life is fucking short. Why study to do what I could do anyway? What if I died behind a desk?'

  Izzy's nodding as I talk, eyes on Justin, who's now on his knees in the dirt pretending to wrestle with a boy and a football. 'You've done so much, without all that. You've lived your life,' she says. 'Really lived it. I've just been existing.'

  'You're twenty-six, like me, that's not exactly old,' I tell her, picking up her hand now anyway. I squeeze it against her knee, then let go as the same feeling I felt last night rushes through me in the heat. Kalaya walked with us back to the resort after dinner, dancing in the surf, tipsy on rum. I had to watch Izzy watching us. She was being careful not to stand in the water again. Then I left her on her porch, probably freaking out about her first night on the beach while Kalaya dragged me into my room. I couldn't sleep with her. I told her I had a headache. I did have a headache, actually.

  'When did Marcus say he was leaving?' Izzy says now.

  'Wednesday.'

  'I can take over his shifts, if you don't have anyone.'

  I look at her. She's biting her lip again. She must have really been thinking this through. 'You'd do that?' I say.

  'If you need someone, yes. I mean, I haven't taught English before, but I did work with Girl Guides a lot when I was fifteen. They were great. And my English isn't too bad, so I'm told.'

  I laugh. 'You'd be an awesome teacher,' I tell her. 'But we don't pay.'

  'Of course, I don't expect pay, Ben. I want to help while I can. God... I feel like I've been hiding away from all this all this time, I could have done something...'

  'You haven't been hiding, Izzy!' I say. 'Everyone handled what happened in a different way, you couldn't have just left your godmother to travel the world and...'

  'You did,' she says, meeting my eyes. I shrug, put my hat back on.

  'I did,' I agree, leaning my elbows on my knees. 'But we both had different experiences, and we went back to different circumstances. We've both had different lives.'

  'What happened out there, on your dive?' she says now.

  My stomach clenches like she's hit me. I grip the bench, stare out at Justin. Then I stand up, call out to him. 'We should go! These kids need to get home, we've tired them out enough, let's go! See you, Marcus, I'll call you tomorrow.'

  Marcus waves from the side of the goalpost as I fish for the keys in my pocket, motion Izzy back to the bikes. Justin hurries after us. His face is red and he's covered in sweat but it's obvious he's just had the time of his life. 'Do you want to see the memorials?' I say to them, handing Izzy her helmet and climbing on. 'We'll go to the museum for now, OK?'

  Izzy says yes, OK, but she's searching my face with her big brown eyes all sparkling with sunlight and questions. So many questions. I look to the dash, start the engine. My headache's coming back.

  ISLA

  He doesn't want to talk about it. Or his mom, obviously. I noticed he ignored a call from her last night at dinner but I assumed it was just because we were all out. I feel rubbish now for even asking what I asked, but I thought he'd dealt with everything he needed to deal with; otherwise, how could he still live here? How could he be around all this? I don't understand what just happened.

  We ride in silence back the way we came, and inland further till we reach the International Tsunami Museum. I feel sick the second I see the big blue sign.

  'What's this?' Justin asks, pulling up beside us.

  'You don't know about this place?' I say, climbing off the bike as Ben puts the stand down. Justin looks sheepish instantly.

  'I thought there was a police boat,' he says, looking around us.

  'There is,' Ben says, pointing behind us. 'It's over there. It was swept inland a mile and a half in the tsunami. They've put it all up on concrete blocks now... we'll go there after.'

  A woman bustles up to us with an armful of saris. 'You buy,' she says, fixing us with a wide smile.

  'No thank you,' I tell her. I notice her stall selling T-shirts and other tourist stuff, right by the entrance to the yellowy-orange building. It doesn't look like any museum I've ever seen before. It almost looks like some kind of toy shop. There are bright red and purple vending machines in the doorway. A young man walks over with what looks like a shoebox. 'You want DVD?' he asks from under his hat, flashing us his polythene wrapped stash.

  'No thank you,' I say again.

  'Over here,' Ben says, motioning us inside the building and putting what I think is five hundred baht into a box on the way. It's darker instantly, and colder too, in spite of the yellow walls. I can see framed photos and signs with Thai and English writing everywhere, but it's smaller than I thought it would be. For some reason I was expecting something huge, with remains of buildings and recovered artifacts, like they did for the 9/11 museum in New York. I saw it o
n TV. My arms wrap around my body of their own accord.

  Ben stops in front me. 'Are you sure you want to see all this?' he says. 'I'm sorry, I just assumed you'd want to.'

  'I do,' I say, meeting his blue eyes, though I'm wondering if that's the truth. Before I can voice my sudden doubt he's leading me across the room toward some screens showing videos. Justin's on our heels. He's typing something into his phone as he walks. I turn to him and he shoots me an apologetic look, holding the phone up, then putting it into his pocket. He sits down on the wooden bench in the middle of the room, swipes at his hot brow.

  There are several other people in here, a couple of them Thai, the rest clearly tourists. Two fans mounted to the walls are blowing at my hair and tickling the leaves of two morose looking pot plants sitting on the shiny floor. 'I can't believe this is all there is,' I say to Ben, turning up to him. He nods, chewing on his bottom lip. 'It's like a... shed.'

  'I don't think the locals like to think about what happened all that much,' he says, lowering his voice. 'Maybe in fifty years or something their kids or grandkids will realize it could be a huge tourist attraction but right now it's raw, you know? All this is still just a reminder of what they lost.'

  My eyes fall on the video screen in front of me. It switches from a Scandinavian tourist talking to footage of the tsunami crashing through the streets, filmed on someone's camera. No, no, no, no, no....

  I turn into Ben, close my eyes as his arm winds around me. I watch the footage all over again on the back of my eyelids, then relive it how I saw it myself; being picked up and smashed into that fence. My hands went out to save my face. My arms were ripped as I struggled against the rush and the roar, the push and the pull and the debris being hurled on top. I tried to keep my head up. My blood was turning the water red as fast as it could wash away. My dress and bikini were gone. I almost gave up the fight, but the boy pulled me into the tree and we watched people shoot past us with their limbs flailing, crashing into debris that rendered them quiet and still one by one, like moving logs. It came from out of nowhere.