Malina Beach: A Paradise Island Series

by K. A. Burgdorf

  She laughs. “I like how even though you compliment me… it’s all about you.”

  I laugh harder. “Yep.”

  She yawns again. And everything is quiet. I can hear McKenna playing music in her room on the other side of the wall. It’s quiet, calming music. Addie slips off to sleep first. I follow suit right behind her.

  I dream a colorful, busy dream.

  I wake before Addie, who is lying next to me with her lips parted. She’s breathing quietly and softly. I do my morning routine, except I don’t text Jacob and I have no texts from him. Though I ignore that and jump in the shower. I tune everything out and only listen to the water; it’s hot against my skin. I stand there, enjoying the peaceful moments. I wash my hair and body quickly. As I get out, I realize there are only a few things left in the bathroom. A lone towel remains, along with a bar of soap, shampoo, and my razor.

  Everything else is gone. My makeup, my blow dryer, my face wash, my loofah, and my container full of hair accessories… everything is packed away. The room is bare.

  I dry off quickly and change into a fresh pair of jeans and a plain black shirt. I don’t have many options, being that my clothes are downstairs in ugly brown cardboard.

  It’s early afternoon. The breakfast my mom made is cold and stale, so I make Addie and myself some eggs, although she isn’t awake yet. As I cook, I notice a note on the refrigerator.

  ‘Movers will be here at 2. I’ll be home around 1:30. Make yourself some lunch and cheer up. I love you.- Mom’

  I tear up the note and toss it into the trash bin underneath the sink. Addie shows up in the kitchen doorway, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  “Good morning,” she says. I smile.

  “Good Afternoon,” I correct. “It’s one o’clock.”

  She laughs. “We did stay up pretty late.”

  “Want some breakfast?” I ask, showing her the eggs I’m frying in the skillet.

  “Sure,” Addie says, taking a seat at the kitchen table. In the back of my mind I wonder how my mom is going to ship all of these things to Hawaii. I hope we don’t have to leave anything important behind, like the china cabinet that was my grandmother’s. Or the teacup collection my mother bought with my father the year I was born.

  McKenna comes stumbling down the stairs. She looks more exhausted than any of us.

  “Hey,” I say. “Breakfast?”

  “Please,” she murmurs, plopping down in the chair across from Addie. Addie laughs at her and McKenna sticks her tongue out.

  “You have major bed-head, McKenna,” Addie giggles. McKenna runs her hands through her hair, making it look more presentable.

  “Shut up. I toss and turn,” she says, defensively. I finish making us eggs and we sit and eat, talking quietly. My mom comes through the front door a short while later, bags in hand, and sets them on the kitchen floor. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a woman’s blue blazer. Her hair is up in a tight bun. She smiles when she sees us.

  “Hey, girls. I got you some snacks,” she says. She begins pulling things out of the bags. “Malina, I got you some more organic cookies. And Greek yogurt,” she says, placing them in the fridge. Our fridge is nearly empty. I doubt my mother will restock it any further than this. What’s the point? All of our things, excluding the fridge itself, are about to be loaded on a truck.

  “McKenna I got you some of that cereal you like. And Addie I bought those knock-off cookies I know you like and I got some ice cream for you both,” she murmurs, setting things in the freezer. I finish my eggs and set my plate in the sink. Addie does the same. McKenna is still eating slowly.

  “And…” she says, tugging something larger out of one of the bags. Out comes a large, tan, floppy hat with a teal stripe circling around the top. “I got this for Addie,” she says, placing the floppy hat on her head. Addie grins. She loves floppy hats.

  My mom produces a box from another bag. “Malina, I got you your new running shoes,” she says, placing the box in my hands. Despite my anger towards her, I’m excited about this. At least I’ll have new running shoes while trying to find a new route in Hawaii. “I hope you like them. They were the best I could find.”

  “Thanks.” I mumble. There’s a tension between us; I know I still have to talk to her about the tattoo.

  “And for McKenna, I got you this.” She hands her four scented candles.

  “Thanks, Mom!” McKenna says. She puts each one to her nose and takes a long, deep breath. “I love these. I so call the first bath when we get to Hawaii.” She smiles.

  I try on my shoes. They are blue and grey and fit to the contours of my feet. I bounce around on them and test them out. By the time I’m done with this, McKenna disappears into her room, and the movers arrive. Addie and I watch as three buff and surly men loaded our boxes into a large white, dirty truck.

  The whole thing took a couple of hours. They took all the boxes, the coffee table, the couch, the kitchen chairs, the china cabinet, and the bedside tables from my mom’s room and McKenna’s bedframe. Everything else will be put on another truck tomorrow morning. And the next day, we will be leaving.

  As the movers leave, my mother starts cleaning. She sweeps the kitchen and wipes the counters; she moves the fridge and mops the floor, then vacuums the living room and sprays air freshener. As she works, I realize that she is making the house more presentable for the real estate person to sell it after we leave.

  The whole thing gives me a splitting headache. Addie and I sit in my room quietly. She watches a movie on my TV while I lie on my bed with a cool paper towel over my eyes. Soon after I start to relax, McKenna knocks on the bedroom door.

  “Hey, Malina. You won’t believe who I just got off the phone with,” she says, coming to sit next to me on the bed. “Try to guess… I bet you can’t.”

  “Just tell me.” I say, growing agitated.

  “Okay!” she says, excited. “I got you three auditions in Hawaii. How great of a sister am I?” she says, tugging the paper towel away from my eyes.

  “What?” I say, sitting up. “Why would you do that?” I demand.

  It’s been awhile since I auditioned for anything. The commercial was great; I had so much fun and loved acting and doing photo-shoots. But I don’t need that pressure, that stress right now. I wonder if my fear is showing in my face?

  “What do you mean, why? You love this stuff. You’ve wanted to do another commercial for months,” she says, confused. I shake my head, standing.

  “No, McKenna. I’m not doing it. Cancel them before I don’t show up and you embarrass me,” I growl. I tug on my new running shoes and stuff my phone in my pocket.

  “Malina, come on. I’m just trying to cheer you up.”

  “Well, don’t do me any favors,” I snap and storm out of my bedroom. Jacob is the only thing on my mind right now. I want to find him before I leave. I don’t want us to end the way we did. I at least want to give him back the ring; it looks expensive.

  I search for him in all of our favorite places; The Diner, the bookstore, the mall, the skate-rink, and finally I swing by his house. I bang on the door until my hand aches, but there’s no answer. He’s nowhere to be found. By the time I give up, I’m exhausted, and my headache is coming back. I turn to look at the unused fire pit that’s now just a pile of ash. If only I could go back to that night and just stay with him a moment longer.

  I decide to walk around; maybe I’ll run into him. I just want to see his face one more time. I want to hear his voice. I want to tell him I’m sorry things are messed up right now. I stare at my phone, willing it to buzz to life.

  After a couple hours I finally give up and go home. If he wants me, he’ll come find me.

  I spend as much time with Addie as possible. We go to the mall and take pictures in the photo booth. We ended up with thirty dollars worth of prints, but who is counting. We make copies so each of us has them. We decide to keep the tradition of sharing the memory box and agree to mail it back and forth every few months with new pho
tos and letters.

  The morning we are due to leave, our house is totally bare and unrecognizable. There are no pictures on the walls or trophies in my room. There are no comfy couches or rugs to cover the hall floor. It looks as if we had never lived here, aside from the dents in the walls and the stains on the flooring from numerous spills.

  When it’s finally time to leave, I’m almost happy to go. I don’t want to stand in my sad, depressing shell of a home any longer. I say a tearful goodbye before we take Addie home. The car ride is awkward paired with an uncomfortable silence. Addie has the memory box in her lap. She’s going to keep it for now so it doesn’t get lost in the move.

  I stare at her house when we slow to a stop. I wonder if I’ll ever see this beautiful, familiar house again.

  “Thank you letting me stay the night. And thanks for the hat,” Addie says to my mother, who smiles and says goodbye.

  When Addie gets out of the car, I follow her. She wraps me in a tight hug and doesn’t let go for a long minute. When we finally pull apart, we both have tears in our eyes, threatening to spill over.

  “I’ll call you when we get there,” I tell her. She nods and forces a smile.

  Before I know it, we are driving away. Now all that’s left to do is get to Paradise Island, which may just be the worst place on Earth right now.

  Chapter Four:

  My first plane ride is interesting. McKenna let me have the window seat and my mom had to sit one row behind us. The plane is small and there are only a couple dozen people on board, including my mom, McKenna and I. To me, it feels rickety and unsafe. My mom and McKenna assure me that people do this all the time and that I’m being dramatic. A robust woman with long black hair overhears and assures me she was a wreck her first flight. She follows this by mentioning that her first flight was at the age of seven, which takes away from the reassurance factor. I take that as she either doesn’t remember the terrible experience, or I really am being dramatic.

  “I fly back and forth between Tennessee and Hawaii two to three times a year; and back and forth between Hawaii and Los Angeles all the time.” She says.

  I smile at her and hold on for dear life most of the ride, despite the bird’s eye view of the United States followed by the ocean I have seen only one other time. The water was my favorite part of the flight. All around this flying contraption was deep blue waves. I did manage to catch glimpse of a few sailboats. It was beautiful.

  When we land, my mom and McKenna are eager to see the new house. I couldn’t care less. I sulk as we find our bags and leave the airport. The novelty of the ocean has left me and Jacob is on my mind again. My stomach aches and I want to go home.

  I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

  “Malina, I’m sure you can find amazing trails here for your daily run,” my mom says. I know she’s only trying to cheer me up, so I smile up at her.

  “I’ll start looking after we unpack,” I murmur. She returns the smile and then wraps her arm around McKenna’s shoulders, saying something slowly in her ear and pointing out to the water. I’m sure McKenna will be the first of us to head out into the water. She’s a free spirit. She will love Hawaii. Back home, she basically had nothing to lose. She is outgoing and easily makes friends wherever she goes.

  The difference between us in that way is frustrating.

  We arrive at our new home after thirty minutes of wrong turns and pouring over a coffee stained map. The house surprises me because I don’t immediately hate it. It’s a big house; tall in it’s two stories but with no basement because of the water. It has a large wrap-around porch on the front and sides. The front door is large and sturdy. It has an attic that will be home to many boxes until we settle in. The house sits on a hill because it’s only a few hundred feet from the ocean.

  “Dibs on the best bedroom.” McKenna says as she bolts out of the taxi. The man who drove us here, standing shorter than I am with leathery skin, hands me my bag with a warm smile. I thank him and turn to the house.

  I glance to the left and tall trees and dense brush greet me. It’s like a jungle. I glance to the right and am faced with miles of unmarked blue water. The sun is above us, shining on our faces and warming my thick hair quickly.

  My mom answers McKenna. “As long as it isn’t the room I want.” She smiles and then looks to me. “What do you think Malina?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I like the view.”

  “Cheer up, Malina,” McKenna snaps. I glare at her. “I know you want to go home,” she continues. “But this is home now. And look at our new house!” she says, waving a hand in the direction of the white painted boards and balcony over the porch. “It’s paradise.”

  I look at her pointedly and roll my eyes. She turns away from me, and back at the house.

  “Okay, girls. Let’s go,” my mom says. She unlocks the front door, which creeps open slow and heavy. “No one has lived here for a few years,” she tells us. “It’s a little dusty.”

  That is an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. The outside is in much better shape than the interior. The floors are hardwood, but covered in a thin layer of pollen and red dirt. There are dead bugs in the corners, but our things are here, while scattered in all the wrong places. The boxes were labeled, but the movers were clearly not concerned about the ease of transition. The fridge my mother ordered online is in the living room, wrapped in plastic and bubble wrap. Why that didn’t come with free instillation I don’t know. Jerks. We just got here and there’s already a list of things to do.

  The coffee table, end tables, china cabinet and shelves are stacked and piled in the corner of the living room. They look like a mysterious painting in this dark, dingy home. Something Salvador Dali would paint.

  I sigh, long and hard.

  “Come on Malina. Let’s go look at the rooms,” McKenna says, taking my hand and basically dragging me up the winding staircase right off the living room. I half expected one of the stairs to crumble under McKenna’s feet in front of me, but we make it safely up the stairs, around a corner and into a long hallway. There are six doors in all. Five empty rooms and a bathroom.

  “Which one do you want?” McKenna asks, swinging the first door open. This room is small, with no closet and only one window. She shuts that door without saying a word.

  The next door, the room is large with white carpet and a built-in shelf/bookcase beside the door. There’s only one window, but it’s wide, overlooking the jungle we had seen outside. McKenna curls her lip.

  “This one isn’t that bad,” she mumbles. The walls are a coral blue color. It looks like this used to be a boy’s room. I scrunch my nose at her before I turn.

  I cross the hall and open the door to the next room. McKenna starts down the hall, looking at the other bedrooms on that side of the hall.

  “All of these are about the same size. They don’t have a closet and all you can see are the stupid trees,” she whines from down the hall. I’m gazing in at a lovely cream-colored room with one teal wall and cream carpet. Directly outside the window is the ocean. I can hear the waves. I march across the room, opening the window swiftly. You can feel the wind coming off the water. You can smell the sandy fresh air. The clouds are fluffy and the sky is such a rich color blue. It mirrors the ocean.

  This is my room, I think. Definitely my room.

  There’s a closet about the same size as the one I had at home. I tug my Polaroid camera out of my bag and snap pictures for Addie to see. She’ll love this room, she’ll want to come visit as soon as possible. I already can’t wait to see her. I’ll have to call her tonight.

  McKenna shows up in the doorway and is immediately groaning.

  “There’s no way you are claiming this room!” she argues before I can even get the words out. I grin.

  “Oh, yes I am!” I say and snap a photo of her twisted, angry face. I giggle.

  She scoffs and takes off down the hall, stomping down the stairs. This is the least-dirty room, too. All I’ll have to do is vacuum the
floor and hang some posters, pictures and awards. I want to get started immediately. I want to be surrounded in my own things and sleep in my bed as soon as possible. I want to be surrounded by my old life.

  I snap a photo of the view from my new bedroom window before heading downstairs to get a few more boxes.

  McKenna decided on the room right next to mine. The walls in that room are a pale green. Other than that, it’s almost identical. I can still boast the better view, however.

  “So, do you girls like the house? I still haven’t decided on which room I want…” my mom says, trailing off.

  “Yes,” McKenna and I say together. My mom grins.

  “Good,” she says. “I was nervous about that the whole plane-ride. I saw this house online and thought I would surprise you guys with it. I was hoping it would cheer you up,” she adds, glancing at me. “And Malina, we still need to talk about that tattoo stunt you pulled.” I sigh, I’ve been avoiding the conversation, although, my mom has grown to like the mountains that now rest of my arm.

  “Hello?” a deep voice interrupts out of nowhere. There’s a light tapping on the front door. We all stand, momentarily frozen on the other side of it. My mom moves first, going to answer the door.

  The man behind it startles me, because he looks so much like my father. I feel as though someone has shot ice water into my veins. McKenna is shocked, too, but doesn’t say anything. My mom greets him as if they are long-lost friends. He’s more than happy to see her. Who is this guy?

  “Jim! Hi!” she says. He wraps her in a tight hug, lifting her off the floor. He’s tall and lean and strong. He’s as handsome as my dad ever was.

  “I wasn’t expecting you until next week!” she says as he sets her back onto the floor.

  “I wanted to come over and see how you girls were doing,” he says. “See how you settled in.”

  “We just got here,” McKenna says, smiling at him. She extends her hand.

  “I’m McKenna. This is Malina,” she introduces. He shakes it gently and reaches for mine.