Spring Tide (26 page)

“What circumstances?”

“I need to know that if there’s ever a time I tell you to go, you’ll go and not come back here.”

“Are you in trouble?”

“Not of my own making.”

“But—”

“Please, promise me.”

I sat back and crossed my arms. “Does this have to do with Joel? Your tone is the same and compression waves don’t lie.”

“No.”

“If I leave, what’ll happen to you?”

“I’ll be okay.” He put his hand on my knee. “And I’ll find you wherever you go. I will find you.”

My ponytail swayed as I shook my head. “I’m having a hard time understanding how it is I’ve become used to these abnormal conversations. What are you involved in?”

“I’m not involved in anything. I don’t want you to be alone because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you because of this.” His eyes lit up brightly and a ball of sparkling blue formed in his palm. “Wanna see it again?”

“Duh.”

I reached to touch it, but he held it away. His arm came back and the ray of light was dispersed over the ocean.

“That’s so freakin’ wicked cool.” I watched it dissipate.

Blue lights.
I laughed. For months I’d thought those lights were from a brain tumor or a side effect from concussion.
Concussion.
The night he’d dropped me off after the assault I thought that I’d seen lightning.
Blue lightning.
When we’d stood under the eaves of his house and watched the thunderstorm, he’d said he associated lightning with transference of existence.
Could it be? No. Why not?

I took a shot in the dark. “Lightning.”

“What?”

“Blue lightning.”

His sight moved to the clouds. “You’ve seen that?”

“Once.”

“I never know when it’s gonna come, have maybe a minute or two before it takes me.”

“Takes you where?”

“Takes me where I’m needed, like that morning when you were assaulted. Look,” he pointed right, “a treasure chest. Piggy back?”

Something large and rectangular was sitting in the dunes a ways down. I glimpsed his face and could tell by his expression that he wasn’t going to say anything more about lightning, had met me halfway on the question. I was a little surprised he’d copped to it at all. I was speculating.

He bent his knees. I took hold of his shoulders and hopped up. He jogged the waterline and then let me down. The treasure chest turned out to be a rusted refrigerator, Asian characters on the controls, barnacles everywhere else.

We started walking back and were a few yards past the Black’s place when a gust of wind came from over the ocean. The screen door of the cottage whined loudly. I clasped my hands together, dread taking hold of every part of me.

“Hon?” He looked from me to Nick’s place.

“I uh … my eyes hurt and I’m breathing too fast.”

He pried my fingers apart, took my right hand, and led me toward his house. I glanced back at the cottage twice, anxiety waning the farther we went.

_______

Being home for Christmas was excellent. Mom had plenty for me to do, keeping me in my favorite state: busy. She gave me a new amp on Christmas Eve—not the best brand, not the worst, just right.
Holly jolly, rock-n-roll.
And she gave me silicone baking mats from France.
Chez wow!

I lay on my side across from Sarah on my bed. “Showed off my sweet guitaristry to Brad yesterday. Then he body slammed me, told me to hold onto the fire, and asked if I could make roast for dinner.”

“Figures. Nick dumped me.”

“Figures.” I got up on my elbow. “I mean, whoa. When? You okay?”

“Last week. Totally. I wanted it. He’d taken to streaking across campus on a nightly basis. So humiliating.”

“Go figure. You’re too good for him, you know.” I bumped my knee against hers.

“What’s really important is that the breakup gave me an excuse to get a really expensive oxygen facial. Look at my pores!”

I examined her face but didn’t know what to say.

“So how’s J?” She let me off the hook.

“Oh, he’s somethin’ else.”
Literally.

“He’s in Ireland?”

“Yep. Calls every day at five and asks me bizarre questions like if I’ve been cold or’ve gotten any bad mojo, wants to know what I’ve been up to. Doesn’t say anything about what he’s been doing though.”

She turned her bracelet on her wrist. “Figured out your life yet?”

“Nope.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Happy?”

“Yep. Are you?”

“So very! I have five dates next week.”

Figures.

Despite the strangeness of Jericho’s calls I missed him a lot, especially not having him next to me at night. I felt the warmth of our connection, but hearing him breathe and feeling his arms around me meant more than I had ever realized.

Three days later, I was in my room, getting my things together to go back to Corpus.

Derek slouched against the doorjamb. “It’s not gonna be the same without you on New Year’s Eve. Come visit me at Tulane soon.” He took my bag out of my hand, dropped it on the floor, and put his arms around me. “And thanks for coming to see Mom. Seeing you really lifted her spirits. She thinks of you as a daughter.” He held me tighter.

“I’ll keep her in my thoughts. Hey, keep me posted. I want to know everything that’s happening.”

I stepped back and saw that he was looking at me
that way
. I put my hand on his shoulder.
It’s too late.
“Love you, Derek. I gotta get going.”

“Love you too. I mean it—come up to Tulane soon. There’s people I want you to meet, things I wanna do with you.”

“Maybe Sarah and I could come for Mardi Gras.” I started for the door, avoiding his eyes.

_______

In January, Jericho was out at the docks more. Ever since he’d come back from Ireland, I’d catch him watching me out of the corner of his eye and it irritated the hell out of me. I’d stop whatever I was doing and stare at him, my eyes big and wide. Although he was working more, I was never alone. One of the three of them was always around. I didn’t mind being with Julia all day. She’d do her thing, I’d do mine, and we’d complain about some aspect of Jericho or Donovan every few hours.

Moving out was a long shot. The Black’s cottage had been one disaster after another since before Thanksgiving: major crack in the slab, broken sewer line which led to plumbing issues, and electrical problems. The place was cursed.

In the meantime, I had concocted over forty recipes and kitchen tested about twenty. Some were genius, some meh, and some vile, but it wasn’t enough to keep me occupied. I went back to my old job at Crazy Jim’s. It was good to be out of the house, working with Freddy again, and Jericho was all for it.

He was standing in the doorway of the spare bedroom, the only place I could go to be alone. I thought I’d heard him take off in his truck a half-hour prior. There was no way to hide the mass of blue that covered my lap. He was trying hard not to smile, but amusement was in his eyes.

“This is why I hate living here. I never get any privacy and now you know.” I gathered up my shame.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything.” The corners of his mouth twitched.

“I don’t want any jokes or two words about this, ever.”

“It looks big.” His smile broke through. “What is it?”

“I should say none of your business, but it’s a blanket for your bed because the one you have now is scratchy. It’s a cashmere blend—feel it.”

He sat next to me and touched it. “Nice.”

“Stop smiling.”

“You are a very interesting animal, Kris Edwards.”

The needles were out of the basket. I liked to knit. It was relaxing and kept my brain and fingers busy, yet I’d never been more embarrassed. He watched me weave the yarn around and through, around and through, and then held a printout in front of my face. It was an airline confirmation for a flight to Oahu.

I read the tiny print. “Aloha. I’m glad you’re going. You’ve been all kinds of squirrely.”

“That’s your ticket. I’m covered by the sponsor.”

“You bought me a ticket without talking to me about it first?”

“I want you to come out with me. I’m stepping in to do commentary for the broadcast of the men’s comp, but—”

“There’s commentary?”

“Yeah, and I’m good for it ’cause I’m bilingual—I speak English and surfer. They say I have visual appeal too.”

“You bet you do.”

“Just think, you could observe a whole bunch of surfers for four days.” He tapped his noggin. “You could begin to get inside my head.”

Did I want to get inside his head? “You and I have had this talk before. First it’s a funboard, then a wet suit, then Hawaii, and before I know it I’m living like a kept woman. Oh wait, I am, right here in this house.” I set the printout aside. “I can’t believe you didn’t ask me first.”

“Why are you mad? It’s Hawaii. Let’s go, have fun, do stuff, be tan. Call Sarah and invite her. I bet she’ll wanna go, will start happy clapping immediately.”

I stomped out the back door, screamed out three or four of my best swears, and walked back in.

“That was impressive, Kris. Your mom know you talk like that?”

I thrust my fists to my hips. “Mom knows. Mom also knows I’m not going.”

“You know you wanna go.”

“Do not.”

The next morning, I called Sarah to discuss the matter and swear some more. She wanted to go and wanted me to go, arguing that I was being pigheaded and ridiculous. Pride counted for nothing when Hawaii was in the cards. And I did want to go.

I messed up his hair. “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Love you, hon. Knew you would.”

“Shut up. Love you too. Sarah and her boyfriend du jour are gonna join.”

“Awesome.” He pulled me onto the couch with him. “You’re okay flying by yourself?”

“Yes. Are you okay with me flying by myself?”

“You know I have to go early—”

“Because of the waiting period. At least it’s a non-mobile event. Anyway, it’s possible that it’ll be all said and done by the time I get there. Four full days, right?”

He put a pillow behind his back. “It all comes down to conditions. How’d you know about the waiting period?”

“Research. If I’m going I might as well have some clue about how the competitions are run.”

“Good luck with that—the association changes the rules every five years and no one knows what’s going on, not even the guys in the race. You are such a spaz.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Donovan took me to the airport before the sun was up. I stepped out of the terminal in Honolulu and into warm sunshine and the fragrance of Eden: gardenias, orchids, love. I didn’t know what time it was and didn’t much care. A taxi took me to the hotel and in the room I found a note on the bathroom mirror saying that Jericho’d be back around five.

Sarah and Eric, her new beau, had arrived earlier in the day so I called her to get the long-lost girlfriend ritual out of the way: the hugging, jumping, giggling thing. It was dumb, but as a chick was mandatory. Looking at Eric, I understood Sarah’s attraction. He wasn’t as pretty as Nick but was fashionably dressed and matched her outfit.

I went down to the beach with them and my senses absorbed every aspect of the North Shore. Turquoise toppled over deep blue that mirrored the sky, the scent of flowers and saltwater slowly filling my nose. The feel of warm sand beneath my feet and the sound of the water quieted my mind and put my body at rest. I reclined into a chair and let the breeze wash over me.

“Hey, beautiful. Found you.” Jericho slid his arm under my back, sat me up, and put himself behind me. “Trip go okay?”

“Yeah.” I relaxed into him.

“Where’s your book of the week?”

“Dunno.”

He rolled the string of my bikini between his fingers. “Did ya take a walk? Swim? Explore native foods and customs?”

“Nope.”

“What’re you doin’ then?”

“Nothin’.”

He ran his palms up and down my arms for a few minutes before putting his cheek next to mine. “I’ve never seen you this mellow.”

“I’m mellow all the time.”

Sarah laughed quietly.

He tugged my braid. “You can’t sit still for ten minutes at home.”

“And?”

“It’s nice to see you be normal.”

“I don’t think normal is a word you can be throwin’ around so casually.”

He got up. With a grin, he walked into the water and vanished under shining blue. A second later, he came up so far from shore that his blond hair was a dot.
I’m partnered with Aquaman. What a pair—Poseidon with his hand of blue fire and Gourmet Girl with her food processor of ultimate power, vanquishing lameness by way of frontside air reverses and spicy fruit chutneys. Yeah. Cool.

At a little past six, he took my hand and I reluctantly went back to the room to shower and dress for dinner.

When we got back from eating the most fantastic wahoo ever, I unbuttoned his shirt, expecting protest. Instead he let it slide from his shoulders. Without hesitation he brought me down onto the bed with him, his eyes glinting with pale blue light. When my shirt came over my head, sex didn’t dominate my thoughts. I knew it wasn’t the right time. All I cared about was that feeling of him. And as long as his mouth kept moving up my legs and over my stomach, everything was just fine.

Over the previous few weeks, the physical side effects he caused had significantly reduced. We were getting closer to being in balance. I wasn’t sure if the move toward equilibrium was a product of time and exposure to him (or him to me), or if it might have to do with the tides, but my gut said it had to do with our connection. The more our connection flourished, the longer I stayed at the surface. I realized then that he was as attracted and responsive to me as I was to him, and that what we had was extraordinary.

He got up at five-thirty the next morning.

“No dawn patrol in Oahu.” I yanked the sheet over my head.

“Sorry, I was trying to be quiet.”

“That’s quiet? Why are you up? Are you commenting on the sunrise?”

“Gonna get wet, catch a few before things get underway. Wanna come? I have coffee.”