Pirata

by Patrick Hasburgh

  “How?” I asked.

  “You’re older, Nick,” Jade said, “and better at making the important decisions. I mean, who knows if in ten years, or even two, I’d want Mom tattooed on a surfboard permanently on my arm. I might not even like surfing anymore.”

  “But you’d still love your mom, right?” I said. “And it’s marking our bodies with a memory—an epic one. I think we should see if there’s a tattoo place still open in Vallarta.”

  Stepdad or not, I didn’t want to be the only one coming home wearing a dunce cap.

  “Not if it’s illegal, though,” Jade said. “And as I think this through, I think I’ll wait. But I’m honored that you tattooed Mom on you—for life. She’s going to freak.”

  “But it doesn’t say Mom,” I said. “It says Meagan.”

  We got back to Sabanita around four in the morning after deciding to drive straight through from La Peñita. I pulled up in front of my casa and parked. All the Suburban’s windows were down. It wasn’t that hot, and it was going to be light out soon, so I decided to let the boys sleep. We would unload the surfboards later.

  There was a strange dog tied to the higuera. A big mutt that looked like a sweet gene combination of black lab and maybe golden retriever, or Irish setter.

  She was stuck somewhere between growling and wagging her tail, so I held out the back of my hand and slowly walked toward her.

  “It’s okay, gorgeous. I live here.”

  The mutt licked my hand as I tiptoed up the casa’s front stairs. I was being very quiet.

  The door to my bedroom was locked, but I could hear the fan going full blast. It made a pretty good racket. I took out my key and opened the door to my bedroom. And there was Meagan, sound asleep—gorgeous and naked. She was sleeping on her stomach. Her hair was cascading around her shoulders and floating a little on the wind from the fan.

  A man I did not recognize was sleeping flat on his back next to her—also naked.

  I was pretty sure he wasn’t a local, because he didn’t look Mexican. And he wasn’t a white guy, either. It was also obvious to me—and likely to Meagan—that the man could use some fluffing.

  But it was the damnedest thing. As I glared at him, this bastard started to look familiar. And then I realized he was the kook from Surprises—the Japanese guy who had paddled out on the foamy and gotten pounded by that outside bomb.

  I leaned down close to Meagan and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Hi, honey, I’m home,” I said.

  Meagan opened her eyes just as I slipped out the bedroom door.

  45

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Meagan said.

  “I doubt it,” I said.

  Because killing both of them had crossed my mind—except that the name of my recently deceased girlfriend would be freshly tattooed on my forearm. It’s doubtful that even a Mexican jury would believe that the two adulterers had bludgeoned themselves to death with a Mike Hynson Red Fin while I watched and cheered them on.

  I had been sitting outside the bedroom for about twenty minutes. I wasn’t trying to listen, but I did hear some intense murmuring and then some crying—and even a little laughing, which made me crazy.

  When Meagan finally came out, she was wearing my favorite Watermark Fins T-shirt. Her eyes were red, and it was the first time I had ever seen her looking like shit. It made my heart sing.

  “That’s my favorite T-shirt,” I said.

  “I was hoping you’d let me take it with me.”

  “What?”

  “It has your smell,” she said.

  This woman was from a galaxy far beyond the one I was trying to live in.

  “The guy surfs a Wavestorm,” I said. “A foamy.”

  “He doesn’t surf.”

  “Tell me.”

  “He just paddled out that day so he could watch you guys.”

  “So you know him?” I wondered how long I’d been a sap.

  “He’s Jade’s father,” Meagan said.

  That stopped me cold. I had thought the Wavestormer was Japanese—but he was Vietnamese. If I’d guessed that at the time, I might have put some pieces together, and this cuckolding wouldn’t have been such a stunning punch to the heart.

  “He’s been looking for us for years,” Meagan said. “And then Jade found him on Facebook.”

  “Jade knows about him?” I felt betrayed. I started to cry—not sobs, just tears.

  “No,” Meagan said. “But that’s how Danh was able to finally find me. He started chatting with Jade online, and Jade said his mom’s name was Meagan and that he was half-Vietnamese.”

  I remembered that Jade had told me he’d searched Facebook for his dad, but there were too many Vietnamese guys to really narrow it down.

  “But Jade said he couldn’t find his dad,” I said, desperately hoping this was somehow just a crazy mistake.

  “Danh wanted to tell him in person,” Meagan said. “That’s why he came down to get us. Jade’s going to get his real dad back, Nick.”

  “As opposed to me—the cross-eyed fake dad?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “How do you know he hasn’t just escaped from prison—or a mental hospital?”

  “He owns a software company in San Francisco,” Meagan said.

  “So the fuck what,” I said. “Everybody up there does.”

  “I have to do this.”

  “You don’t even know him anymore, Meagan—but you know me.”

  I looked over at an empty bottle of wine in the kitchen sink and shook my head.

  “This is the first time in my life that the truck loaded with all the goodies didn’t just run me the fuck down, Nick,” Meagan said. “You’ve seen my life up close. You think I don’t know what a shit fest it is—how messed up I am? I do. I suck. I’m a shitty mom. But I love my kids. And Danh says that’s all I have to bring with me.”

  “You’re taking Obsidian, too?”

  I was so flipped out about Jade, I hadn’t even considered that Obsidian would be leaving me.

  “Of course,” Meagan said. “I’m his mom.”

  “Well, it is nice to see that morality and integrity have finally begun to raise their heads inside your black soul,” I said, like a spokesperson for recovering aphasia victims.

  “Oh, Jesus, Nick, step away from the ledge,” she said.

  “I already jumped off the ledge, Meg. I got rid of your boyfriend’s body, remember? You pulled sea urchins out of my ass.” I extended my hand. “Have we met?”

  But Meagan wouldn’t shake it and glanced toward the bedroom. She wasn’t crazy about the secrets I was broadcasting—but that was the point.

  “I got thrown a rope,” Meagan said, as calmly as possible. “And I’m going to grab it.”

  “And let go of me,” I said, a little wimpier than I would’ve liked.

  “Nick—we’ve lived together for, what, a week? You’ll get through this. Unless all that stuff you said about surviving ourselves was just bullshit.”

  It sounded like she had been taking notes.

  “When does this happen?” I asked.

  I thought I saw her lip start to quiver, but that might have been optimistic.

  “There’s a flight out of Vallarta every day at eleven forty-five,” she said.

  I motioned for Meagan to come closer. She didn’t hesitate. I put my arms around her waist and then wiped the tears from my one working eye with my favorite T-shirt.

  “I promised Danh we’d leave as soon as the boys got home,” Meagan continued.

  “Is there a chance I could change your mind?” I asked. I hated groveling—but I’d be willing to do it.

  “No,” she said.

  I stood up. Meagan flinched. This wasn’t the first time she’d been in this movie.

  “Ever?”

  “Nick—let’s just try to get to tomorrow. I’ll go wake the boys.”

  “I don’t want to see them.”

  “You have to say good-bye.”
/>   “Says who—Super Mom?” I was suddenly seething. “I never want to see you again, Meagan. I don’t care if you’re being chased by Borneo headhunters. Don’t fucking run in my direction. Tell them I took off because I found something better—it’ll be easier to forget me that way. Because that’s exactly what the fuck I’m going to do about you.”

  I had been flailing my arms, and Meagan was looking at my new tattoo. “And don’t think this means anything,” I said, covering up the fresh ink. “Because as soon as it’s dry, I’m going to have it changed—to Pagan.”

  I stormed out of the casa and down the front steps and tripped over the dog. I fell flat on my face, and once again the dog didn’t know whether to growl or wag her tail.

  “And take this fucking mutt with you,” I said, getting up.

  “It’s Danh’s,” Meagan said. “He rescued it.”

  “And I rescued you,” I said softly.

  She was standing behind me in the doorway and twisting up the front of my T-shirt. “I won’t forget that.”

  “Try,” I said.

  “Can we leave her here? She could help you with your loss.”

  “Whatever works for you, Meg,” I said, and kept walking.

  I peeked into the Suburban. The boys were still sleeping. I whispered that I loved them. Then I headed to the beach.

  46

  I was sitting in Sabanita’s birthing tree on a corner of the beach at the far edge of town. All that was left of el papelillo was its gnarled trunk and a few twisted limbs. For generations, local mothers had given birth to their babies while hanging on to a branch and squatting over a smooth, damp hole that had been scooped out in the sand. Chuy and José were born here.

  But my two boys were leaving town.

  I was old enough to have known better than to fall for a woman like Meagan. From the first moment she’d knocked on my heart, I’d known there’d be trouble. I had no one to blame but myself.

  I’d miss her—just for the sheer madness of it. But I was heartbroken about the boys. I had no delusions over who got the best deal with the three of us getting to know each other.

  It was very possible that Jade and Obsidian would be leaving my life for good. And I knew from experience that if I couldn’t forge some kind of closure, the continuing regret would be impossible for me to endure—I could only run from it. I needed to say good-bye.

  Meagan and the boys and Wavestorm Danh would have to be at the airport two hours before departure. That meant they had to leave for the airport by nine, and it was probably already after that. When I got back to my casa, the rescued mutt was still tied to the higuera. I was in too much of a hurry to let it bum me out, but I did fill her water bowl.

  Winsor’s MacBook had been left out on the kitchen table. There was a note taped to it from the boys. A piece of printer paper was folded in half, and there was a math formula inside: 8.1 + 10.0 = 100% U.

  It was a score I did not deserve.

  I jumped into the shower, rinsed off and toweled down, pulled on my formal khaki pants, and put on a Hawaiian shirt patterned with hot dogs and gas stations.

  I was dressed to impress, and I flatfooted the gas pedal all the way to Vallarta.

  I parked in the passenger drop-off zone and sprinted into the aeropuerto terminal, hoping to catch the boys before they got past security, and I had already missed check-in. But then I found the latest revision of Meagan’s happy family sitting at the Starbucks adjacent to where the line starts to the X-ray carry-on.

  Obsidian saw me first.

  Jade was lost in an iPhone. He had its buds in and was playing World Surf Tour. I slowly walked toward them and then just stood there until Meagan noticed me. I could see that I had caught her by surprise.

  I smiled, not wanting her to think I had come to cause trouble.

  “I just wanted to say good-bye to the boys,” I said simply.

  Jade looked up at me—and then at his dad. His face was blank, but Obsidian was grinning with relief.

  “Dude, I am so happy,” Obsidian said.

  The kids were wearing brand-new yellow-and-silver Puma runners and plaid cargo pants. Their we love puerto vallarta T-shirts were a matching blue. They were a little self-conscious in the new duds, which made them look about ten.

  “Nick, this is Danh,” Meagan said, “Jade’s dad.”

  “Whose name will go back to Kim as soon as we land in the States,” Danh declared, standing up.

  It was clear that switching Jade back to his Vietnamese name had already been discussed—and settled.

  “What about Obsidian?” I asked.

  “Right now he wants to keep it, but it’ll go back to Wayne if I decide to adopt.”

  “So he’s kind of getting a tryout?”

  “Of sorts,” Danh said, a little too cheerfully. “But he’s a heck of a prospect.”

  Danh wasn’t very tall, but he was fastidiously dressed. I was happy I was wearing my best khakis. I couldn’t see a wrinkle on this guy’s face, or in his shirt.

  “You’re the surf coach?” Danh said, shaking my hand firmly. “What I saw at Sorpresas that day was impressive—even if I wasn’t.” He used the Spanish word for Surprises, probably so I’d know he was cool and surf-aware. I tried not to cringe. “And I hear you’ve been a wonderful surrogate uncle, too,” he continued.

  I looked over at Meagan. She smiled at me, pleading.

  “I do the best I can with what I have,” I said. “But I’m not much of a coach.”

  “I want Meagan to take up life coaching in the Bay Area,” Danh said. “She could teach single moms how to support themselves.”

  I smiled back at Meagan.

  “Sounds like a perfect fit,” I said.

  Danh nudged Jade and pulled an earbud out of his son’s ear. “Kim, say good-bye to Nick,” Danh said, smiling down at his son. “He just got his first iPhone, so he’s a little carried away.”

  Not his first, I thought.

  “Can I have a couple of minutes with the boys?” I asked.

  Danh looked at Meagan, but she still had just that same pleading smile on her face.

  “Just surf coach, surrogate uncle stuff—nothing serious,” I said.

  “Sure,” Danh said.

  And then he seemed to get it. It was nice to see that he wasn’t a total dick. Danh took Meagan’s hand, and she stood up. “We’ll go check to see if the flight’s on time,” he said. They walked off, and I sat down with the boys.

  “Man, talk about lucky,” I said.

  Jade couldn’t look at me. He was really torn. Obsidian was just confused.

  “You guys are going to be surfing the best breaks in North America,” I said. “Steamer Lane, Ghost Tree, Mavericks—that’s some epic shit. You’ll forget all about three-foot Sabanita.”

  “No, we won’t,” Obsidian said. He wasn’t so confused anymore and wiped away a tear.

  “I just never even thought that my dad would ever really come back,” Jade said, “and if he did, that we’d just stay down here or something.” He was pretty jumbled up. Everything was coming out in spurts.

  “And he said we can only surf on weekends,” Obsidian said, “because we have to go to school.”

  “That’s the real world, Obsidian,” I said. “Everyone should live in it for a while. To see if they like it.”

  “What’s not real about you?” Jade said.

  “Lots,” I said. “Like this eye, for instance.” I popped up my lid and evil-eyed them. It got a little smile.

  “I just came up here to tell you guys something that you really need to know. And it’s not like how good you surf or how funny and smart you guys are, or how brave—or how I know you have my back, because you know I have yours. It’s none of that. What I want to tell you is, even if you weren’t all those things and we didn’t have that stuff—I would still love the hell out of you both, just like I do now. And I need you to know that.”

  Now I was the one who was crying.

  I could see Danh a
nd Meagan coming back to Starbucks. Danh arrived at the table first. He put a hand on each of the kids’ shoulders and then looked me in the eye.

  “Thank you for taking care of my boys, Nick,” Danh said.

  It seemed like he meant it. Meagan must have filled him in a little.

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  The boys stood up. I gave them both a hug, and I held them as tightly as I could for the two seconds I had them in my arms. Then I kissed them each on the cheek.

  “Adios, amigos,” I said. I shook Danh’s hand. “Nice meeting you,” I said. “You’re a lucky man.”

  “I know,” he said.

  I looked at Meagan. She still had that stupid smile on her face—it looked as if the survivor inside her had finally surrendered.

  “And now I just need to talk to Meagan for a minute,” I said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Danh said.

  “It’s a very good idea,” I said.

  “No,” Danh said.

  I looked at Meagan and then back at Danh. Jade took his father’s hand. “Let him do it, Dad,” Jade said. “He deserves to talk to Mom.”

  Danh looked at his boys, and then Meagan snatched her passport and ticket out of his hand.

  “I’ll see you guys at the gate,” she said.

  Danh nodded slowly—he would deal with this later—and I watched him walk the boys to the security line. Then I turned back to Meagan, took her by the hand, and led her over to a more private part of the airport.

  “I need to tell you something,” I said.

  “I know—I’m a horrible person and you’re going to hate me forever. I get it, and I don’t blame you.”

  “That’s not who you are to me,” I said.

  This wasn’t going to be easy.

  “I need to tell you that what you thought happened to Jade—didn’t happen. Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean?” Meagan asked, and stepped back a little bit.

  “Winsor never raped Jade,” I said.

  “You don’t have to lie to me, Nick.”

  “It was fucked up. Some weird pictures and shit—” I took both her hands. I was whispering. “Jade couldn’t tell you. He was afraid you’d hate yourself for doing—what you did.”