May (Calendar Girl #5) (7 page)

“Not yet,” he said confidentially. “Working on that. She’s shy. Don’t want to scare her off, but we’re going out this weekend.”

“Good for you!” I smiled and he grinned, fluffing and spraying his masterpiece, making sure nary a hair was out of place.

With one last poof of the hair and burst of spray he announced I was done. I looked in the mirror and barely recognized myself. I looked frickin’ awesome! My hair was shiny, filled with body, and loose curls that swayed elegantly as I moved my head from side to side. The makeup was nothing short of a masterpiece, Michelangelo quality. My green eyes were popping and so bright, I gasped at how beautiful they were, and I knew they were one of my best features. The rest of the look was very sun kissed and bronzed, seemingly natural only with an entire face full of makeup to achieve said “natural beauty.”

“You’re a genius.”

“I know,” he said and handed me a shimmery black bathing suit. The top was a tankini-halter paired with bottoms that had two white strings at each hip. More coverage than my normal bathing suits which was nice for my first run. “Go change over there where the other girls are going.”

I entered the room to see a variety of women of many shapes and sizes in various stages of undress. Assistants were mingling from woman to woman, spraying things on their skin, and sealing bathing suits to specific areas.

A curvaceous black woman approached me. She had on a complex white suit that crisscrossed at the breasts into larger swaths of fabric that covered her stomach then nipped at the hip where the design went into a boy short. On her shape, and with her espresso-colored skin against the white, it worked, and she was definitely comfortable with her curves. “Hey girl, I’m MiChelle,” she said, pronouncing it as ‘Me-Shell’, and holding out her hand. I shook it with a smile.

“Mia.” I looked around the room and the other girls waved.

MiChelle locked an arm around my shoulder. “Okay, that hot blonde beeotch is Taylor,” she pointed to a woman who was having her very large breasts taped into a bathing suit. Her blonde hair was gorgeous, falling down to her ample booty. My guess, girl was a solid size sixteen possibly even an eighteen and looked smokin’ hot in the black suit. She waved. “That right there...”—she pointed to a brunette with cropped hair that was slicked back into a Robert Palmer girl, complete with the bright red lips—“is my girl, Lindsay.” She was probably a tad smaller at a fourteen or sixteen,

She took me farther into the room where a set of identical twins were sitting, their hair being pinned in complicated designs, both wearing the same bathing suit in a different color. Their red hair was a deep mahogany with striking swoops of caramel blonde running through it. Each had one blonde swoop of hair left down to curl around their face. “Hi,” they both said at the same time then giggled like teenagers. Actually, the more I looked, the more I realized they were teenagers just with a lot of makeup on.

“Misty and Marcia, our twin babies. We all watch out for them. Keep them out of trouble… don’t need them turning into some island hoochies. Right girls?”

They giggled once more and it reminded me of Maddy. I couldn’t wait for my sister and Ginelle to come at the end of the month. The twins were also considered plus sized, along with everyone else, but they couldn’t be more than a size ten. I was barely smaller and not by much.

MiChelle led me over to a spot and held my suit while I dropped my clothes. She continued updating me about the models. “The twins are only sixteen. Here without family even though they have a chaperone designated to them from their modeling agency. That glow-in-the-dark motherfucker is never around. Their Dad back home is single and works to provide for his girls, but as you can see, they’re gorgeous and got picked up without trying. This is a huge gig for them and will set them up for college. Only reason their Dad allowed ‘em to come.”

Once I was suited up, a female attendant sprayed something on my bum to make sure the suit didn’t ride up in the pictures and taped the suit to my chest, keeping the look exactly where they wanted it for the shoot. Then she poured some oil onto her hands and proceeded to rub me down to a nice shine. MiChelle stood with her ebony arms out in a T, her legs in a wide-legged stance as the same thing was done to her.

A brisk knock on the door had all of us quieting down. “Mia and MiChelle, you’re up!” A booming voice hollered through the door.

“Show time, MiChelle said.”

Angel was an amazing photographer and human being. Working with him and MiChelle on the first shoot was the highlight of my day. This ad was going to be labeled “Yin and Yang” based on the opposite colors of our skin tone, and he positioned us into lying head to toe, curving our bodies into a crescent shape. He took the photos from up above. At one point, he had us holding one another’s hand and ankle, stretched out into a complicated design but the end result was philosophical and thought provoking.

Once finished, MiChelle and I hung out with the other girls pigging out on pizza. Probably not what models should be doing, but MiChelle made a point to note that the pizza did have spinach, artichoke, tomatoes, green peppers, olives, and chicken. All healthy things. That explanation was good enough for me and every other girl. Besides, we lamented that we were plus sized models and got the gig based on the figure we had, not the size society wanted us to be.

***

Over the next couple days, I did single shots and group shots with the girls. Tai had been off duty; unfortunately, I worked from dawn until I couldn’t stay awake any longer. Modeling was no joke. These women worked their asses off. I mean, there were parts that were really fun and each shoot started out that way, until you’ve had to keep your toe pointed for over an hour, your chest arched up, your booty tucked in so you weren’t looking like a girl at the club, and repeated slight adjustments to your form, as well as your hair, makeup, and environment. I’m pretty sure I had a permanent cramp in my right foot from attempting to make the shape of a Barbie foot all day with my very real flesh and bone, non-plastic limb.

Today, I was meeting up again with Tai. I smiled thinking about all that male, warm, yummy skin and how he’d wrap it all over me. Hopefully, we’d have another night full of meeting one another’s carnal desires. However, he was dead set on showing me the island. As much as I wanted to lie in bed with him all day, I did want to explore my surroundings and get the full island experience.

The first spot we hit was a place not far from Honolulu, located in the center of the lower half of the island called Pali Lookout. At the top of the mountain, there is a panoramic view of the windward coast of Oahu. The trade winds are so fierce there, my hair was lashing against my face until Tai handed me his baseball cap.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” he said as we took in the magical view.

“It’s something I’ll never forget.”

While at the lookout, I found out that it was the location of one of the bloodiest battles in Hawaiian history. During the battle of Nu’uanu, almost four hundred soldiers defending Oahu from being overtaken by
Kamehameha
the First were trapped in the valley and later pus
hed over the cliff to their deaths.

“So sad,” I said thinking about all those people who had died in the battle while we walked back to our car.

Tai stole his cap back allowing my hair to fall in tumbles down around my shoulders and back. “Better.” He grinned then plopped it back on his own head. “If that made you sad, we’ll be skipping Pearl Harbor.”

“Good idea.”

“You hungry?”

“Absolutely.”

“You like Hawaiian beer?”

“Doesn’t everybody?” I retorted, narrowing my brows for emphasis.

He took me to a place on the far south side of the island called the Kona Brewing Company. It sat located in what seemed to be a shopping complex so I didn’t have high hopes that it would be as fantabulous as he hinted. I was never happier to be dead wrong.

The waitress led us through the normal restaurant to a back area that felt as if it hovered over the bay. Boats were docked down below; patrons could park their boat, walk up, and have a meal. The view was just as amazing as Pali Lookout, only different. Each side of the restaurant was wedged between a mountain range on either side of the water. Bright bursts of green, yellow, brown, purple, blue and every other color in the rainbow filled the landscape as if an artist had rendered it. Now I knew why so many people painted these mountain ranges. They were incredibly beautiful and inspired peace in those that were lucky enough to gaze upon them.

We ordered plenty of beers as we sat, talking about everything from island life, to the Samoan culture, to my life back home, surfing, and the future. Tai drank a beer labeled
The Big Wave
, a golden ale, and I stuck with the fruiter option of the
Castaway
. Somehow, the names of both beers seemed to fit our lives. I felt like a castaway, just floating through this year of my life, bopping from place to place, while Tai was always in search of the Big Wave. The part of his life that would make him feel complete. Secretly, I figured that would happen when he chose a mate and settled down, but I was rather content to enjoy being his number one for the month.

“All right, we’ve seen the lookout, you’ve partaken of the local food and drink, how about something to feast your soul on?”

“My soul? You think you can provide something that will serve my soul?”

He grinned and took to the road. We drove for a little over a half hour, but it felt like mere minutes, my eyes so focused on the breathtaking views. With very mile, the view seemed to ebb and flow, and adjust to the lush landscapes, each beach we passed different than the last.

Eventually, we turned into a place called Valley of the Temples Memorial Park. Tai drove us through what seemed to be a cemetery, only it wasn’t like something you see back home, with concrete or bronze plates in the ground. No, this was unlike any memorial park I’d ever seen. In many of the areas, large black marble squares with etched gold writing stood up like sentinels guarding the resting place of the human below. It was evident in the views and markers, how Hawaiian’s revered their dead. For a place that should feel filled with death and sadness, I was consumed with compassion and love for the people allowing me to share their final resting spot.

Tai stopped in a parking area and we got out. He led me by the hand through a long path until we came to an outcropping cut into a mountain. There stood a red Japanese style temple.

“The Byodo-In Temple.” Tai said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “It’s a non-practicing Buddhist temple. All faiths are welcome to mediate, worship, or just enjoy the grounds. Come on, let’s get a closer look.”

He had to drag me; I was so in awe of the building in front of me. It sat perfectly in front of a giant mountain range behind it. A bamboo forest flanked one side and another, the cemetery. Saying it was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen would be downplaying the rapture it brings to your body, mind, and soul. The sense of peace and humanity here filled my pores, moistened my eyes, and hugged my heart.

“Never seen anything like it,” I turned to Tai and he leaned down and gave me a soft kiss.

“I’m glad. You have yet to see the best part.”

We walked through the gravel paths, stopping to check out the koi ponds all over the grounds. Little pathways were covered with drooping trees, adding to the secret garden feel. At the mouth of the temple stood a giant bell. Next to it was a log. When I say a log, I’m actually referring to a tree trunk having been cut and turned onto its side where it was tied up level with the bell. Visitors to the temple could pull back on the heavy rope attached and hit the enormous bell with the tree. Of course, I had to do it.

On my first try, I pulled back and the wood barely moved, only slightly dinging the bell. Extremely unsatisfying!

“Hold up, girlie,” Tai said handing his phone to a Japanese couple waiting their turn to access the bell. The man lifted up Tai’s phone, getting ready. Tai looped an arm around my gut, the other around the rope and pulled along with me, using his super human strength. That log swung back and crashed into the bell making a resounding “GONG” then it swung back and hit it again. “GONG.” A little softer and one more time. “GONG.”

I jumped up and down, clapped, and wrapped my arms around his neck, giving him a grateful, sloppy kiss. Tai hooked me closer and took my kiss to a whole other level. He was sucking and biting my mouth as if he was trying to eat my excitement directly from my lips. Someone cleared their throat and once again, I’d forgotten where we were. The small Japanese woman standing next to her husband smiled and gave me the thumbs up symbol behind her husband’s back. I covered my mouth and tried to prevent the piggy snort from making an appearance.

Tai thanked the man and pocketed his phone. Then he held my hand, and we walked up the wooden steps and platform to the entrance to the temple. Tai instantly removed his shoes and I did as well, kicking off my flip-flops and holding onto the back of his t-shirt in the darkened space. There wasn’t anyone else in here that I could hear as we walked through to stand in front of the most breathtaking Buddha statue. It was huge, standing nine feet in height on a raised platform. In the center was a young, contemplative Buddha, resting in a meditative pose.

“It is a depiction of Buddha himself and known as the largest statue of its kind outside of Japan. Famous sculptor Masuzo Inui designed it. I love how he is sitting within a lotus flower.” Tai’s voice held veneration and awe.

“Why is it gold?” I asked Tai, my eyes flicking from spot to spot attempting to brand this beautiful sculpture into my mind for a lifetime.

“To highlight its beauty. It was painted with three coats of gold lacquer and then gold leaf. See all the figures surrounding him?” He pointed to a couple. 

I nodded, squinting, trying to get as close as possible without going past the rope.

“There are fifty-two Boddhisattvas, or ‘enlightened beings’ surrounding him, floating on clouds, playing music, dancing. They represent the culture of Fujiwara’s aristocracy.”