The Deepest Blue (6 page)

With that, she hangs up. I decide I'm going to go surfing before I rip the phone out of the wall.

I change into my black-and-green swim trunks, but I leave the tank top on. I keep my board in a storage closet under the steps. After looking for my sandals for several minutes, I remember I slipped them off outside the door. I fix a sandwich, throw it, some water, and a towel into my backpack, grab my board, and then walk the block and a half from my house to the public beach. The tide is on its way in, so the waves are picking up nicely. Iron Steamer Pier is not the greatest surfing in the world, but it's fun when you need to kill some time or blow off steam. There are the remains of an old steam ship about a hundred yards off shore. Sometimes when the tide is
low, you can see the very top of the wreck out in the water. You can't surf there at low tide or you could seriously mess up your board. There used to be an old fishing pier, too, but it blew down in a storm a long time ago; my dad tells me stories all the time about fishing off the end of the pier and getting his line caught in the wreck.

I spike my board in the sand, throw my towel out flat, and drop my pack on it. The tourists are already out in force, slathering themselves in sunscreen and flattening out like lizards trying to soak up as much sun as possible.

It's times like this I wish October wasn't so far away, so I could have my license and drive farther up the island to a better spot for waves. But it will get here soon enough. And I'm not ready to get through my summer that fast.

I tug off my shirt and then pull my board out of the sand and head into the water. The waves have a pretty good surge to them. When I'm about waist deep, I float my board and flop on top of it. I paddle out about thirty feet, pushing the water with my hands. The ocean is warm, but a little breeze is raising goose bumps on my back, and I'm thinking my wet suit might have been a good plan.

I raise up on my elbows and watch a few swells move under me. I can feel the draw of the water pulling urgently out toward the ocean. It signals a rush of adrenaline in me: a big wave. I start pushing hard with my arms as the water crests beneath me. I hop on the board and fight gravity to stand as the wave swells and begins folding over
on top of itself. Spray hits my face and my skin. I push with my legs, guiding the board upward to stay inside the curl, then coast off the edge and head behind the churning froth as the wave breaks and rolls into the shore. I drop back down to my stomach and paddle out again.

For about an hour, I paddle out and surf in. A few more good waves arrive as the tide comes in, but most of them are weak and shallow. I ride a few more, loving the smooth feel of the water and the summer sun on my back. I'm trying to decide if I might luck into another big one, when I spot someone waving from the shore. I sit up, shielding my eyes against the sun reflecting off the water. It's Rachel. I ride a wimpy little swell most of the way in before I pick up my board and cross the sand.

“What're you doing here?”

Rachel has on a red bikini top and white shorts.

“Looking for you,” she says. “I figured this is where you'd come if you were mad at me.” She stands with her arms folded across her bare stomach. “Besides, my dad's home again.”

I spike my board in the sand again. Rachel's dad has a drinking problem, so she doesn't spend much time at home. My anger eases a little, and I drop down on the towel. She sits next to me.

“I'm sorry if I got you in trouble,” she says. She sounds genuine.

“Why do you have to be so pushy?” I ask. “I mean, you know I care about you, but it's like you're in some sort of race or something.”

“I don't know,” she says in a soft voice.

“You do, too, Rachel.”

She sits in silence. A breeze plays with her hair.

“The other night at the arcade you were complaining because I didn't kiss you soon enough. Then you find out my dad's gone for the day, and you're in this big rush to come over to my house.” I let out a sharp breath.

Her skin is pale except for the rush of color to her cheeks. I've embarrassed her, and I sort of feel bad. Maybe Maggie is right and girls don't know what they want any more than guys do. I feel stupid for getting mad at her.

“Maybe we should just do it right here on the beach,” I say, trying to sound casual. “We could give the tourists a few vacation memories.” I waggle my eyebrow at her. Rachel's eyes fly wide open as I untie the drawstring on my still-wet trunks and start sliding them down. I manage to get them to just about mid-hip when she grabs my hands.

“Stop it, Michael. Right now.” She laughs, but her face flushes a deeper red.

“Aw, come on,” I say. “They won't even notice.” I nod over my shoulder at the pale bodies slowly roasting in the sun.

She giggles and then tries to pull up my trunks. “You'll get us in trouble. And the last thing I need today is to have a beach cop call my dad.”

I laugh and sit beside her. I brush a strand of hair from her face. The waves crash and whisper at our feet.
I want this girl,
I think, but fear of the unknown stops me. Fear of the consequences, of not being any good at this,
of disappointing this girl and having her tell the whole island what a failure I am.

“I'm sorry,” I tell her.

“I'm sorry,” she says. “I love you,” she adds.

“I love you, too,” I say before I realize what I'm saying. But it's mostly true. I'll figure out the rest later. We lie on the beach, listening to the water and the occasional gull, and little kids who run into the waves and shriek as the water races up to meet them. Rachel drifts off to sleep, and I watch her breathe. She is so beautiful, and she can make me so insane. I lie next to her. The sun bakes our skin, but the breeze cools the air around us.

After a while she stirs and sort of blinks her eyes. I smile at her. “I designed a brochure for the boat,” I tell her. “Dad took it to Raleigh to see about getting a printer. He thinks it's pretty good.”

“So do you want to take over your dad's boat?”

“I don't know. I don't want to be like Trevor, doing what his dad tells him to do.”

“You're better than that,” she says. “You want something more, even if you don't know what that is. And even if what you want is to run your dad's boat, it won't be because that's what your dad wants. It'll be what you want.”

My stomach gurgles and rumbles. Rachel laughs. I sit up and grab my pack, which she has been using as a pillow for the past hour or so. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich I tossed in has become a peanut butter and jelly decal: flat and sticky. Rachel giggles again.

“Wanna grab a burger somewhere?”

“Sure,” she says.

“I need to run my board home first, but that'll only take a second. We can just walk to Sandy's or something, if you want.”

“Sounds good,” she says.

We brush the sand off each other and then head back to the house to drop off the board. “What time is it?”

Rachel looks at her cell phone. “Three forty-five, and I need to be home by six.”

“Gotcha.” We get to my house and stow my board. I run inside to grab my wallet, then we walk the two blocks to Sandy's Drive-In. We order burgers, onion rings, and chocolate-caramel milkshakes.

“Will you be online tonight?” Rachel asks between slurps of her shake.

“I'll be at Maggie's tonight, so I don't know. If she says I can, I'll get on. She usually lets me.”

“How come you'll be at Maggie's?”

“Dad's staying in Raleigh overnight. He doesn't want me home alone, 'cause I might sneak a girl over or something.” I wink at Rachel, and she smiles.

“Are they seriously getting married?” she asks.

I draw a deep breath. “About that,” I say. “You can't say anything to anyone right now. I shouldn't have even told you. But yeah, I think so. That's why my dad went to Raleigh. To buy the ring. He hasn't officially asked her, though.”

Rachel grins. “I won't tell anyone. But that is so cool! Are you excited?”

“I don't know. Maggie's been like my mom for so long now that it sort of seems like getting married is silly. Then again, I haven't lived with her full time, so I don't know what that's going to be like.”

“I think it's great, and I think your dad should have done this a long time ago.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

We finish eating, and Rachel calls her sister to come and pick her up.

“I'll try to catch you online,” I say as she drives away.

I head back to the house and climb the steps just as the phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mike,” Dad says. “I talked to a couple of printers today, and I think we found one we can work with.” He sounds excited. “He wants you to email what you've got to him so he can fix it up a bit, but he said it looked like a professional job.”

A grin spreads across my face. “Awesome. Give me his email, and I'll get it to him.”

“I'll bring it home with me tomorrow.” He clears his throat and then says, “No girls at the house, right?”

“Not a one, unless you count the twelve I hid in the shower just now.”

“Very funny.”

“How was the drive up?”

“No problems. I picked up the ring first thing. It is beautiful, so Maggie better say yes.” Dad chuckles.

“You got it under control.”

“Be good for Maggie. I'll see you tomorrow.”

I hang up the phone and decide to play on the computer for a while. While I'm reading my email, Jayden chimes in.

J-Dawg: Dude, wassup?

Mr.Mike2U: Not much, just hangin, waitin for Maggie to pick me up.

J-Dawg: Pick you up why?

Mr.Mike2U: Dad's in Raleigh. Staying overnight at Mag's

J-Dawg: Hey. Looks like I'm getting paroled early. Could be back next week

Mr.Mike2U: Totally cool, dude. What plans you got?

J-Dawg: None so far. Probably need a job.

Mr.Mike2U: If you want I can ask my dad about you working on the boat. We got tons of charters lined up. I know we need the help.

J-Dawg: Dude, that would be awesome! Will your dad be cool with that?

Mr.Mike2U: Let me ask, but I'm pretty sure.

J-Dawg: Seriously, man, that would rock. I owe you big just for asking.

Mr.Mike2U: No problems. It would be cool if we could work together.

J-Dawg: Totally. Hey, did your dad leave the phone for you?

Mr.Mike2U: No such luck. Trying to talk him into getting me 1, but so far he's not biting.

J-Dawg: Well, pretty soon I'll be close enough we
can hang out.

Mr.Mike2U: Get back fast, Jayd. I'm going nuts without you man.

J-Dawg: ASAP, dude, I swear.

I log off the computer and opt for watching a movie on cable instead, but there is nothing good on, so I grab my iPod and turn on some music. Heavy metal riffs scream through my head. At some point, the playlist runs out, but I have fallen asleep on the sofa. I wake when I hear Maggie's voice and feel her hand on my arm.

“Michael,” she says, her voice scared or worried, I can't tell.

My eyes flutter, then open, squinting against the light. I sit up and realize Maggie has been crying. Her eyes are swollen, and dark circles hang under each socket.

“What's wrong?” I pull out my ear buds so I can hear her and I'm not screaming. My voice is froggy, catching like sand in my throat.

“Michael, it's your dad.”

It takes a minute for her words to get clear in my head, and then my mind tumbles awkwardly through all the options of what that might mean. He's in trouble. He broke up with Maggie. He's in the hospital.

“Mike, your dad's been in a car accident. He was hit by a drunk driver.”

“He's okay, right?” I search her face for some reassurance.

Maggie's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. She stares at me, eyes wide and glistening. Finally the words come out as sound. “The paramedics worked
on him at the scene and rushed him to the hospital, but they couldn't keep him alive.” Her hands come to her face to wipe the tears. I can see she is shaking.

I feel something surging in my chest. “No. No, that can't be what happened.” My head throbs, and my chest feels like it might explode. I gulp air, desperate to fill my lungs, but there isn't enough oxygen. The room spins around me. I shut my eyes against the dizziness overtaking me.

Maggie wraps her arms around me. I grab onto her and bury my head in her shoulder.

“No,” I say again. The word won't stop falling from my mouth. My brain tumbles and reels with voices, images, sounds, but all I can say is “no, no, no.” He's always got it under control, he's always here, alive and here.

Maggie sobs, holding me and rocking me. The whole world has shrunk down into just this room, just the space: Maggie holding me, me holding Maggie. I see my dad's face—smiling and laughing and very much alive. I try to imagine no life in that face. I can't. But there's an empty feeling in my gut—a cold, hard place like I swallowed a stone. He isn't part of me anymore. I discover an emotion I have never felt before. It rises up and takes over me like a wave: I want to be dead, too.