by Kaia Knight
Kailani bit her lip, guilt creeping through her as she looked away. “Cristiano, I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. There’s nothing wrong with having fun.”
Cristiano slung his arm along the back cushion of the couch behind her, his somber expression softening. “It’s okay. Speaking of fun, why weren’t you at the party tonight?”
“What party?”
“The varsity bash? Most of the teams were there…”
“Oh, I can’t imagine the swim team would go to parties like that.”
“Well, they were definitely there tonight. Did you not know?”
Kailani waited for the wave of hurt to roll over her, but it did not come. I guess I’m not surprised. If they don’t talk to me at practice, why would they invite me to parties? She laughed bitterly. “No, but that’s okay.” She gestured to the pile of books everywhere. “I came here to finish my degree, not to make friends.”
He glanced over his shoulder, where the pile of crumpled-up papers lay. “I think you need less of that, and more fun.” He tilted his head to the side. “Hey—some of the guys and I are going surfing this weekend after our Saturday practice, do you want to come?”
“Surfing? Here?”
He must have heard the skepticism in her voice. “Well, it’s no Hawaiian paradise, but there’s a decent beach about an hour and a half away. Jake, one of the guys on the team, says there’s a storm that should bring in some pretty huge swells. It sounds like they’ve been surfing along the Oregon and Cali coasts all their lives, so they know where the good surf is.”
Kailani felt a sudden surge of excitement. Surfing. The ocean. Of all the things she had left behind in Hawaii, the ocean is what she missed the most. The rush of adrenaline that came from surging on the lip of an enormous wave was a feeling unlike any other. A smile spread across her face.
“I’d love to go. Did you surf a lot growing up?”
“Rio has some of the best surfing in the world. My cousin is a pro, but I can hang.” He smirked at her. “Actually, I’m pretty damn good.”
She suppressed the urge to laugh at his cockiness. I can’t wait to see him wipe out. He needs to be knocked down a peg. She imagined a long car ride wedged next to Cristiano’s seductive winks, and immediately felt claustrophobic. “Can I invite someone?”
His eyebrows immediately came together. “Who, your coach?”
Kailani looked at him coolly. “No. My friend Melody.”
“Oh. Yeah, I don’t see why not. As long as it’s not him. He’s too…I don’t know. Weirdly protective.”
Suddenly itching to escape, she muttered something about getting some fresh air. She withdrew to her room and rummaged through drawers full of clothes made for a tropical climate, shivering in her tank top. Biting her lip, she wondered when her first paycheck would arrive, knowing that a new cell phone was higher on her priority list than winter clothes. She pulled on a long cardigan and slipped into her favorite fleece-lined leggings. For once, she did not reach for her running shoes in search of escape. Inching her toes into her sandals, she slipped out the front door into the evening air.
Kailani followed the curving path that wound behind the farmhouse, and was met by the deep, rich fragrance of the rose bushes that framed the path. She reached out, delicately touching the velvety petals of the burgundy rose beaded with dewdrops. She leaned closer, mesmerized by the moonlight refracting within the drops of water, like pearls shimmering in water.
The unmistakable noise of a stringed instrument drifted from down the path, its notes folding and weaving along a hopeful melody. Kailani tilted her head, closing her eyes to listen, and the rich, vibrating music drew her involuntarily towards its source. She trailed along the path towards the illuminated barn door that hung ajar and peeked around the door frame. Walt had his back to the door, playing the fiddle as Josie clapped to the beat, dancing in a circle.
Smiling, Kailani straightened and stepped through the doorway. Josie spotted her movement as she circled around. Her face lit up. “Kailani!”
Walt swung around, the song screeching to a halt.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt!”
Walt chuckled and beckoned her in. “The old arm needed a break anyways. Come join us.”
“What exactly are you doing?” Kailani approached, eying the glasses of amber liquids covering the table.
“My favorite tradition. We’re tasting last season’s mead and cider to see how we want to adjust the formula this coming season.” He gestured at the enormous barrels that lined the walls and the buckets of apples that were labeled according to their variety.
Kailani whistled. “Did you make all of that?”
“Well, we first started a vineyard back in the seventies. Some of those barrels are decades old wine. But in the last few years, we’ve dabbled in mead and cider, which has been more fun for us. And puts all our honey to use. We only sell a few dozen bottles a year, so our stash has been growing. Care to try some?”
“I’d love to.” Kailani grinned and helped Josie grab glasses from a makeshift bar pushed against the barn wall, and they poured splashes from a dozen bottles. “Man, this is going to add up. You know I have practice in the morning, right?”
“Better drink up quick, then,” Walt said with a wink.
Kailani picked up the first glass, taking a studious sip. Her eyebrows shot up. “That’s amazing! It’s like…” She sipped again. “Honey...and orange, but somehow not tangy.”
“That’s my Da’s family mead recipe. Glad you like it!” He stood, reaching for the fiddle, tucking it under his chin as his right arm flourished the bow. He struck up a playful tune, and Kailani found her toe tapping to the rhythm as she tasted every drink, savoring each and helping Josie rate them.
Kailani gazed around the enormous barn, tilting her head back to admire the sweeping beams. The mead and cider hummed in her veins, and bathed in the flickering candlelight, the potential of the room began to take shape. Kailani leaned forward in excitement, smiling at Walt and Josie.
“What if you turned this into a brewery for the Fall Festival?”
Walt’s hand slowed, the rich melody coming to a halt. “What’s that you said?”
“Imagine it.” Kailani stood, looking around. “You already have enough wine, mead and cider to get started. That wall with the barrels could be a bar, then long tables out here for locals to sit, drink and play board games. You could have live music nights with dancing...” She looked up at the rafters again. “Add some string lights and this place would be gorgeous. Heck, you could even have weddings here!”
A smile grew on Josie’s face, and she exchanged a look with Walt. He stroked his peppery beard in silence for a few moments. “Hmm. Now there’s an idea. But I don’t know if we’d have the funds for a project that big.”
Kailani pursed her lips, eying the room again, and spotted a stack of barn wood in the corner. “Looks like you might have enough scrap wood to make the tables. Want me to do some research and get some estimates at least?”
“That’d be great.” Walt absentmindedly strummed the fiddle with a calloused thumb, his eyes appraising the barn as if just seeing it for the first time. “Lilac Ranch Brewery. Has a nice ring to it, huh?”
Kailani stayed up most of the night, sketching diagrams and researching details on liquor licenses with enthusiasm. Though the cloaking buzz of alcohol waned, a more permanent sense of warmth settled around her.
Chapter 16
Gabriel
Gabriel sped along the road that tunneled through the cover of ancient evergreens towering above them. The asphalt was darkened by the damp touch of mist filtering through the green canopy. Gabriel rolled down the window to taste the warm, salty breeze that was a sign they were approaching the coast. As the miles to the ocean shrank before him, Gabriel’s nerves began to bundle in his stomach. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel mechanically until his brother shot him a look.
“Dude, stop. You’re driving me nu
ts.” Eli fiddled with the stereo until he found a classic rock station, turning it up. “You just gotta drown out your worries,” he yelled over the music, and began to belt the wrong lyrics to the song completely out of tune.
The corner of Gabriel’s mouth twitched as he watched his brother out of the corner of his eye. When the chorus hit, Gabriel lifted his canteen from the middle console and sang into it like a microphone. Their pitchy performance could make ears bleed, and they dissolved into laughter a few notes in. Gabriel felt the tension in his shoulders ease slightly.
He glanced over his shoulder to merge onto the off-ramp, turning down the music as the roar of the truck’s engine quietened. They were slowing down on the wooded, back lanes that meant they were getting close. There was no interruption in the dense forest as they approached the ocean; the road exited the cover of trees, stumbling to a halt as it hugged the rocky edge. It was as if suddenly the hushed silence of the thick canopy had crumbled into the water below to be swallowed by the roaring sea.
The tick of the turn signal marked an ominous countdown as Gabriel veered towards the narrow lane marked: Devil’s Punchbowl State Natural Area. His heart began to thrum in his chest and his damp palms slid on the steering wheel. They pulled into the parking lot where a handful of vehicles already idled. A small cluster of men in rain jackets and boots huddled around a large trailer covered in peeling stickers.
Gabriel killed the engine, hopping out to retrieve his gear from the back of the truck. Eli met him at the rear, drawing the strings around his crinkly hood so only his eyes peeked out.
“Nice day for a swim,” muttered Gabriel, wincing as raindrops lanced against his cheek. The air was warm and damp, but the changing winds tugged at him, making him stagger as he walked towards the group of men, wetsuit and snorkel in hand.
The huddle unfolded, greeting him with fist bumps and claps on the back. Gabriel nodded at his classmates and introduced his brother around. The broad-shouldered instructor who was rummaging in the trailer tossed something hard and rounded towards Gabriel, who instinctively caught it.
Sarge grunted, blinking away the rain. “Gabriel. You’re three minutes late. Today we’ll be using dive helmets since the current will be fairly strong and we’ll be close to those rocks.”
He pointed to the edge of the formation of Devil’s Punchbowl, where the sea violently exploded against its stony face. “We don’t want any injuries, and some of you can’t afford to lose any more brain cells than you already have.”
Gabriel grinned at Sarge’s gruff demeanor. Though he had retired from the Navy over a decade ago, his rod-straight spine and commanding bark were as fresh as the day he graduated boot camp. His fiery red hair, buzzed clean along his skull that had taken a few bumps, matched his intense personality. When he smiled at someone, they knew it was because they earned it.
“Today we will do a navigation test to locate a missing person,” Sarge continued. “This scenario could apply to an unconscious scuba diver, someone who went overboard a boat, or a swimming mishap, so this training has many practical applications. You and your partner will get one practice run using a sunken buoy as your victim, then the second test will be with one of your instructors, so we can evaluate your response time as well as your recovery techniques as you pull us into shore.”
The group immediately began to shuffle themselves, arranging to stand next to their partners. Kevin, a tall and gangly Coast Guard hopeful, was Gabriel’s partner.
Sarge cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the murmurs and rustling of raincoats. “Once you properly execute the rescue and surfacing techniques, you will tow the victim safely into shore and pull them onto the ledge here. You will then perform rescue breaths.” He clapped his hands together and looked around. “Any questions? None? Good. Go ahead and gather your gear, make sure to test your tanks, and check out the dive maps and read the water report. We start in ten. Instructors, get ready to roll out!” He bellowed.
A flurry of movement ensued in the wake of his words as Gabriel’s classmates began to pull tanks from the trailer, and the four instructors loaded rescue tubes into the kayaks that they would be patrolling on.
Eli punched Gabriel’s shoulder and hoisted a large tote over his shoulder. “Good luck, bro! I’ll stake out a spot on the beach, but I’ll come find you when you’re done. You got this!” With a salute, he walked down the rock face to the sandy beach, zigzagging as his jacket turned into a sail in the wind.
Gabriel’s hands were shaking as he tugged on his thick wetsuit, fighting to squeeze into its suffocating grip. As Kevin zipped him in, his breath began to quicken in shallow bursts. Stay calm. Stay focused. He took a deep breath, shaking out his arms and acclimating to the neoprene constricting around his ribcage. They grabbed their gear, lugging the heavy aluminum tanks to the edge of the water. There, they tested their equipment, slipping the regulator in their mouths, taking slow, steady breaths.
Sarge approached and pointed at Gabriel and Kevin. “Let’s get you guys going first, we only have a few hours here, so let’s make the most of our time. Alright, hop in! Swim to the first buoy twenty yards out, then on my whistle, you will submerge and navigate to the second buoy before swimming above the surface on the way back. Then the next group will go.”
“Yes, sir!” Gabriel tugged on his second fin and eased himself into the frigid water from the steep rocky shelf, churning angrily beneath him. Looking at his partner, he gave the “OK” hand signal, and they both took off towards the bright marker in the distance. Gabriel quickly lost sense of direction with his eyes in the water. Lifting his head up, he squinted through the foggy mask and corrected his course, using the flexible fins to propel through the strong current. Kevin lagged slightly behind, his thin frame struggling to push through the enormous waves swelling around him. Gabriel paused to let his partner catch up beside him before continuing.
When they reached the first buoy, Gabriel righted himself, glancing around. One of the female instructors floated in a kayak and gave them an encouraging thumbs up. “Good luck!” she yelled. “Keep an eye on your heading— the current will mess you up down there! And remember, buoys can move in a storm.”
Kevin nodded vigorously, and the pair of them turned to the bobbing marker far in the distance. Glancing down at his compass, Gabriel twisted the bezel so the index arrow pointed towards the second buoy so he could get the right heading. He took a steadying breath, taking one last look at his surroundings.
When the whistle shrieked in the distance, Gabriel made eye contact with Kevin before they nodded at each other and submerged simultaneously. Gabriel lifted the tube to his buoyancy control device, letting air out so he could descend slowly beneath the surface. Once they were neutrally buoyant at a depth of fifteen feet, far below the tug of the rolling waves, Gabriel lifted his wrist in front of him, keeping his compass level and within his field of vision.
They began to kick, keeping an eye on the compass needle as they scanned their surroundings. Beneath the surface was an entirely different world. Only faint traces of light touched them, transforming the ocean around them into subtle shades of grey. The only noise he could hear was the low hiss of his tank and the wheezing, Darth Vader-like metallic hitch caused by his breath.
Water pushed at him from all sides, and he swallowed air forcefully, relieving the painful pressure against his eardrums. While the depths dampened most of his senses, his mind responded to the lack of stimulus by working in overdrive. He settled into a state of calm as he focused on the task of reaching the buoy, concentrating on maintaining his orientation.
Gabriel noticed Kevin was drifting off-course, pulled by an invisible channel that crossed perpendicular to their path. He nudged his partner, tapping his compass emphatically. He adjusted his course, and after another ten minutes of intense focus, they finally approached a buoy on a line about twenty feet from the surface. Reaching it, Gabriel lightly tapped it before turning and beginning a slow ascension with Kevin at his e
lbow. Carefully they swam back along the surface, Kevin’s fatigue evident as he fought to keep up. It was much more difficult on the surface, with the swells of the surf slapping them as they kicked. When they crawled onto the shore, Kevin gasped for breath.
“Good job, but too slow,” said Sarge. “That took twenty-seven minutes total.” He glanced at his watch. “Next group, GO!”
Gabriel and Kevin sat down on a large rock nearby, resting up and checking over their equipment as they waited for the rest of the class to take their practice turn. More than an hour passed, and as the storm began to recede, the sky brightened considerably.
“Ready for another go?” Gabriel asked. “The last group is almost done, we should probably warm up a bit.” They both stood with a groan, shaking out their tight limbs and rolled their shoulders. “I’m glad that went so smoothly, not going to lie, I was pretty nervous.”
Kevin shook his head seriously. “Anybody in your shoes would be nervous. Plus, I feel like I’m the one holding you back, I don’t know how you swim so damn fast.”
Gabriel gave him an appreciative smile.
Just then, Sarge hollered at them, hovering his finger over his stopwatch threateningly. Gabriel scrambled to the edge and shoved the regulator back in his mouth, steadying his breath.
“Your time begins on my whistle, starting from here. Ready, GO!”