Ocean's Fire

by Stacey Tucker

  I did everything right, she thought. It can’t end this way.

  End? asked her heart. It is only the beginning.

  After little sleep, Skylar forced herself to function the next morning. She needed more time at home to figure out “Plan B.” She had no idea where to start, but she knew Cornell wasn’t the place to do it.

  She stepped out of her tiny house, Michael in tow.

  “You have to go out for the day, my friend. Someone must be missing you, no?” She looked at the little lion. “I’ll tell you what,” she said, bending to give him a pat. “I’ll come back with some food and a litter box. If you’re still here, you can call this place home too, okay?”

  Michael pushed his head into her hand and let out a purr.

  Skylar noticed a bundle of mail in the rocking chair. In all the time she’d lived there, she never remembered the mailman driving down their long driveway just to deliver mail, only large packages. She shrugged, scooped up the mail, and tossed it inside as Michael jumped up to the porch railing.

  “See you, Michael,” she said.

  He sat on his perch and watched her drive away.

  Less than a week later, Rachel came through on her offer to help and Skylar was registered at Rosen College. She would be spending the year interning at the barn for course credit, and her final thesis would be due early in the spring semester. Given the extenuating circumstances, Cornell agreed to honor her degree after the work was complete.

  It was hard for Skylar to thank Rachel for anything, especially something so important, but she forced it out the next time she went to her dad’s house.

  “Thanks for your help, Rain-gel,” Skylar said, forcing a smile. She always called her stepmother by the name she’d used for her when she was little when she was making an effort to bond with her.

  Rachel smiled. “I’m happy to help,” she said. “Let me know if you need anything else.” Then she raced out the door as if she were late to wherever she was headed.

  As she drove onto campus, Skylar felt a comfortable sense of familiarity. Rosen hosted The Show in the Mountains horse show every year, and she’d competed there from the time she was ten until she was sixteen. Seeing some familiar sights helped calm her first day jitters just a bit.

  The campus was the postcard picture she remembered. Regal, red brick buildings dotted the rolling hills only to be interrupted by the occasional glass structure or campus chapel. It wouldn’t be long before the rich colors of autumn would emblazon the landscape, but for now the days were still quite warm. The students ambling the campus were all sporting shorts and tank tops.

  Skylar had stared hopelessly into her closet that morning. This internship was a job, and she knew shorts and a tank top wouldn’t cut it if she wanted to make a good first impression, so ultimately she’d chosen khaki pants and a white riding blouse. The ten-minute walk to the barn from her car in the midday, ninety-degree heat made her first impression a wilty one, however.

  “Hi, I’m Skylar Southmartin.” She extended her moist hand to a striking redhead standing at the barn entrance. She withdrew it quickly and wiped it on her pants, leaving a dark handprint on her right thigh. She extended it again, embarrassed.

  The woman smiled warmly. She was a stunning beauty in her early forties, with a mountain of fiery curls cascading from a loose ponytail. “Welcome, Skylar. Hot enough for ya?” She laughed. “Why aren’t you in shorts?”

  “I wanted to make a good impression on my first day,” Skylar said sheepishly.

  “Impression made! But you’ll never get through the day in that getup,” the woman said. She turned down the barn aisle. “Follow me,” she said over her shoulder.

  Skylar followed the woman into a closet-sized office. There was enough room for a small desk, two chairs, and one narrow file cabinet. The walls were lined with framed photos of various horses, most of them crooked.

  “I’m Veronica Treadwell. I should have said that earlier. Sorry.” Veronica’s eyes twinkled with life. She dug through the bottom drawer of the file cabinet and pulled out a wadded-up ball of material. She tossed it to Skylar. The ball morphed into a pair of wrinkled shorts and a white tank top.

  Skylar chuckled. “Thank you, Ms. Treadwell.”

  “Call me Ronnie,” she said. “Everyone does.” She got up and walked to the door. “Get changed and I’ll show you around,” she said and shut the office door behind her.

  Skylar slipped into the wrinkled shorts and dusty tank top in record time. When she emerged from the office, Ronnie was waiting for her just outside.

  Skylar looked down the aisle of the open barn but didn’t see anyone around. “Am I the only newbie today?” she asked.

  “Yes!” Ronnie said with enthusiasm. “We stagger new people, so you get my full attention. Lucky you.”

  The women walked slowly down the aisle. There was a faint scent of new wood and varnish. The barn had been completely rebuilt two years prior, after a fire that took the previous barn and the lives of all the horses in it. The story made national news. Arson was suspected but they never found the culprit. Skylar had cried about it for weeks.

  “The two Palominos to the left are Valley and Chico. They are American Quarters. Across from them are Carmine and Laverne. They are our resident Morgans.” Ronnie stopped at each stall for Skylar to get a pat in. “Over here we have Benny and Bella; they came to us last year from the Midwest, and as you can see, they are Appaloosa.” Ronnie patted Benny’s speckled brown coat.

  Ronnie stopped in front of the last four-stall area. “This is Jellybean, Banter, Nilla, and Shirl.” She pointed to each. “They are all Percherons, which is quite a high percentage of our total. We are in the process of exchanging two of them for two Arabians in Florida. They leave tomorrow. I hate to see any of our babies go, but we are limited to ten horses due to a max in staffing. That’s why you see quite a few empty stalls. We like to keep a variety of breeds here to promote learning on a wider basis.”

  They kept walking until they came out into the sunlight near the paddock. “Much of the daily horse care is the responsibility of students in the program, but we have three people on staff. Suki De La Cruz is our vet tech. She’s around here somewhere. Kyle Andrews is a grad student. He’s here part-time, only fills in when we need him. And Argan is here for the night shift. After the fire we had a couple years ago we couldn’t bear to have the horses here alone, so we make the budget work for that.”

  “Argan?” Skylar’s eyes widened.

  “Yes, isn’t that the best name? I can never say his last name right so I gave up trying. Greek, with lots of p’s in it. He’s a sweetheart, speaks three languages.” Ronnie bent down to pick up a bucket, guided Skylar back to the first horse stalls, and filled the water trough for Valley and Chico.

  Skylar was speechless. How many Argans could there be in the world? She felt her heart constrict down to the size of a golf ball. “Is he here . . . every night?”

  “Interested already, sight unseen?” Ronnie chuckled. “Yeah, every night. We worked out a deal so he has residence in the apartment over the barn in exchange for being here seven nights a week. Right now he’s on the road. I’m staying in the apartment while he’s gone.”

  “Great, can’t wait to meet him.” Skylar tried to keep her voice casual while a pang of something vaguely familiar shot through her body. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or excitement.

  “You must be Skylar,” a voice called from down the aisle. Skylar looked up from a bucket of oats. A very tan Asian woman approached her and extended her hand in greeting. “I’m Suki.” She was dressed in the standard-issue khaki shorts and white tank top. Her dark straight hair was cut in a blunt bob that dusted her bare shoulders.

  Skylar smiled and put down the bucket. “Hi, yes, I’m Skylar,” she said, shaking Suki’s hand.

  “I know your deal,” Suki said, not returning the smile. “Strings were pulled to get you in here and we’re expected to help you get your fancy Cornell degree.”
>
  “Oh, I don’t expect—”

  “Save it,” Suki said. “I’ll do what’s asked of me. No more than that.”

  Skylar felt her face turn bright red. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  Suki walked on toward the office.

  “Her bark is worse than her bite,” Ronnie said, rolling her eyes. She had been standing in the empty stall. “She is also well aware that the day you get that degree, you will outrank her. Status is very important to her.”

  Ronnie stepped over the bucket of oats and pressed on with her tasks.

  Skylar spent the rest of her first day learning the routine of the barn and staying clear of Suki. She tried to appear fully focused all day, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Argan. It felt like an entire lifetime had passed since she’d last seen that boy. They hadn’t even known each other very long, but she still remembered everything about him. Would he remember her? Or care?

  When Skylar had a free moment, she spent it in the library, researching the Book of Akasha. Her whole life she’d blindly believed her mother’s version of its existence, but now she had to uncover the truth for herself. And maybe there’s still a way to bring her back, Skylar couldn’t help but think.

  But she was getting nowhere with translation. The technology she knew how to use could convert English to Sanskrit, but she had no idea how to go about it in the other direction. After too many wasted hours, she left the library in frustration and headed for the barn to stow the book in her locker and get to work.

  Standing in front of her locker, Skylar fanned the pages with the familiar scent of sage, mugwort, and cedar. An image of her mother as a young woman flashed before her eyes. She was leading a toddling Skylar toward an enormous tree. The canopy of the magnificent tree shimmered as if each leaf were wrapped in iridescent foil. Its roots were exposed and snaked the ground in every direction as far as Skylar could see. Her heart leapt with excitement, as if she remembered something buried lifetimes ago. But she was also confused by the memory. It was so familiar, yet she was so small in the vision she’d had, she would have been too young to ever recall this.

  “Whatcha got?” Suki asked from down the aisle.

  Skylar’s head shot up as if she’d been caught red-handed. “Oh, nothing,” she said quickly as she put the book in her backpack and placed it in her locker.

  “It didn’t look like nothing,” Suki said, her demeanor rigid. She ran her hands through her hair.

  “It’s just a book of my mother’s,” Skylar said. “But it’s in a foreign language I can’t read.”

  “Well, that isn’t nothing,” Suki said. She paused and her body language softened slightly. “Can’t she help you read it?”

  Skylar held her breath. “She died over the summer,” she said, still not breathing. This was the first time she’d had to say the words out loud. It didn’t sound real, or possible.

  The rest of Suki’s hard exterior melted. “Oh Skylar, I didn’t know. I’m . . .” She paused with genuine sadness on her face. “Sorry,” she finally said.

  “Thank you,” Skylar said quietly. Tears welled in her eyes. Not here, not now, she thought to herself. Not at work.

  Suki sat down on the dusty asphalt in front of the row of lockers. “I lost my parents when I was a toddler,” she said with a distant look in her eyes. “Car crash.”

  Skylar knelt beside her.

  “I don’t remember much about them but losing them still left that hole,” Suki continued. “You know, that hole? You better get used to it, because it doesn’t get filled with anything else in your entire life. Trust me, I’ve tried.” Suki kept winding her thick black hair into a ponytail, then letting it fall. “At some point, you learn to accept it and become the person you’re supposed to be, holes and all.” She gave Skylar a weak smile. “My grandmother took me in after it happened. She’s done her best and I’m grateful, but it hasn’t been without its challenges.”

  “Wow, Suki, now I’m the sorry one. I thought I had lost my mom early, but you . . . I’m really sorry.”

  The two girls sat in the barn aisle for a few more minutes in silence.

  “Is this where we’re working today, ladies?” Ronnie asked from the office doorway.

  Skylar and Suki sprang up. “Sorry, Ronnie,” they said in unison.

  “The Arabians are due in a few hours. Let’s make stalls seven and eight presentable for them, please,” Ronnie said.

  A bolt of nervous energy shot through Skylar’s stomach. Argan was back.

  “We’re on it,” Suki said.

  The two girls made their way to the end of the aisle and started prepping the stalls. Skylar was grateful for the mindless tasks of raking and hosing. It helped clear the storm of spiraling thoughts in her head about her mom, the book, and especially Argan. After he’d moved back to Greece, she’d clung to the idea that she hadn’t lost him. She’d often fantasized that it was all a mistake and he was coming back to put color in her vanilla world all over again. But now the possibility of seeing him again was not just a child’s daydream. She wondered how he’d changed. Right now he was preserved in the perfection of her memories. If this Argan was her friend from so long ago, she would be forced to replace her memories and accept whatever man he had become. She wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. The thoughts swirling in her head made her stomach tighten. If this Argan the night caretaker wasn’t her Argan, at least it would put an end to her angst and she could get on with life.

  Waiting for the Arabians to arrive, Skylar took Shirl out for some exercise. Riding the horses was one of the perks of her job. The facilities at Rosen were top-notch, with acres of pasture at their disposal. Today, Skylar led Shirl out of the paddock and gave her a good run among the turning maples and birch trees that dotted the hills of Rosen.

  When they returned, Ronnie greeted them at the paddock gate. “The trailer’s been delayed,” she announced. “They won’t be here until tonight.”

  “Okay,” Skylar said, relieved that she would have time to freshen up before seeing Argan. She had to get the smell of horse out of her hair. But her house was too far away to make the round-trip in decent time. She had another idea but hesitated. If you really want to impress Argan, she told herself, you’ll suck it up and do it.

  Suki came around the corner, and Skylar took a deep breath. Now or never.

  “Suki, can I ask an enormous favor?” she said nervously.

  “What’s up?” Suki asked.

  “Can I get cleaned up at your place?” Skylar asked. “I’ve got somewhere to go tonight, and my place is too far away to make it back in time.” She didn’t have the energy to explain the situation to Suki, and if this turned out not to be her Argan, she would never have to.

  Suki hesitated. “You mean take a shower?”

  “Yeah, I smell like horse and sweat. I can’t be seen like this.”

  “You can,” Suki said slowly. “Come to my house, I mean. But . . . I don’t have any hot water.” She looked down at the dirt floor.

  Skylar figured she shouldn’t pry. “It’s been hot as hell today and a cold shower might hit the spot.” She offered up what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Thank you, I really owe you one.”

  Suki gave Skylar her address, and they made a plan for later.

  Skylar pulled up to Suki’s house—a modest ranch-style home ten minutes from campus—just before six. When she knocked, an elderly Asian woman answered the door.

  “You here for Suki?” she asked, eyeing the duffel bag slung over Skylar’s shoulder.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m Skylar.”

  “Wait here,” the woman said, slamming the door in her face.

  Suki reopened the door moments later. “Sorry about that,” she said, red-faced. “My grandmother doesn’t like guests.”

  She led Skylar through the dark house. All the drapes had been drawn closed. Faded photographs hung on the walls, and thread-worn brown carpet lined the floors.

  Skylar picked up a framed photo in th
e hallway.

  “My parents,” Suki said.

  Skylar studied the picture. Suki’s father was Japanese, and her mother had long dark hair and an olive complexion.

  “She was from the Dominican Republic,” Suki explained, reading Skylar’s thoughts. “People don’t know what to make of me with the tan skin and almond eyes.”

  “It makes for a very striking combination,” Skylar said.

  Suki gave a small shrug and continued down the hallway. “The bathroom is through here. I put a towel in there for you.”

  “Thanks, I really do appreciate this,” Skylar said.

  Suki gave her a polite smile.

  Skylar walked into the bathroom and shut the door. “Argan better be on the other side of this evening if I’m taking a cold shower,” she whispered to herself.

  A half-hour later she emerged from the bathroom in her emergency outfit, a white T-shirt and jeans. She kept the clothes in her car and they had saved her on more than one occasion, tonight included.

  “Got a hot date?” Suki asked innocently.

  “I don’t know what I’ve got,” Skylar said with a weak smile. She threw her duffel bag over her shoulder. “Thanks again,” she said, walking out the door.

  Back on campus, Skylar sped across the parking lot toward the barn. Every time she took a step she had to consciously slow down. “Uuuggghhh!” she said out loud. “Get a hold of yourself.” She took a deep breath to relax the tightness in her chest that she was certain was a heart attack, then walked through the barn doors—and knocked right into a young man running out.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, reaching out to steady her. “Are you okay? I was just running out to bring in a horse.”

  “Are you . . . Argan?” Skylar was completely deflated. His strawberry hair and freckled features told her this wasn’t the guy she was looking for.

  “Argan? No.” He laughed. “Kyle. I’m on nights until Argan gets back. He’s staying in Ocala a few more days.”

  Skylar brightened. “Right . . . okay . . . well. Thanks, Kyle.” She beamed with renewed hope. “I’m glad we finally met. I think I’ll head out.”