02 The Moon And The Tide - Marina's Tales (15 page)

I rushed out of the kitchen and down the
hall. I felt much better about everything after a warm shower and a
change of clothes. I went back to the kitchen to see Abby setting
up a gleaming new juicer on her counter. Dutch was cooking
something on the stove top. Abby looked up at me with a bright
smile.

“I’ve always wanted one of these! How did she
know?”

I smiled wryly and shrugged. Leave it to Evie
to come up with the perfect gift for a vegan yoga instructor. She
really was very good at giving people what they wanted. Abby
prattled on and on about all the healthy vegetable juices she could
make and how good it would be for the baby.

“How sweet of her, I really owe her one,”
said Abby, “What could I make for her she’d like?”

Ethan’s words rang in my mind.

“She’ll be in Switzerland for the next
month,” I said.

“Gosh– she lives such a glamorous life,” Abby
sighed.

“Yeah,” I wandered back to my room, agitated.
I thought about how happy Abby was. How could you possibly find
something wrong with Evie’s generous impulses? Who was the
controlling one, Ethan or Evie?

I closed my eyes to remember the wild rocky
shore I’d just surfed. Setting up a canvas and squirting colors on
my palette, I started feverishly painting, getting completely lost
in the process. I could taste the salty spray and feel the motion
of the waves in my mind. I threw the paint down as violently as the
surf hit the rocks, remembering how high the spray flew.

There was a knock on the door that
interrupted my thoughts.

“Yes?” I called out, expecting Cruz.

The door opened and Ethan came in,
“Surprise,” he said. “Dad called me to come over for his paella.”
He closed the door and came towards me with open arms as I stood
stunned, his unexpected appearance dragging me back to reality. I
put down my brush and looked up at him.

“Whoa,” he said quietly, “Your eyes look
totally different.”

He came near, inspecting my face as I blinked
back my visions of the surf on the rocks.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and then smiled,
“You’re covered in paint!” He wiped a fleck of pigment from my nose
and leaned in sideways for a kiss. I flinched and saw the smile
fall from his face as the edges of my vision began to blacken. My
knees started to buckle and I wavered for a second, groping for the
edge of the bed. I sat down with my head in my hands, dizzy.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

“I’m okay,” I took a deep breath, feeling
foolish, “I think I just forgot to eat anything today.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, “How does that
happen?” He sat down beside me, searching my eyes.

I patted his knee reassuringly, “I just got
caught up in... stuff.”

He looked over at my easel with a picture of
the wild raging sea on it.

“Come on,” he took me by the hands and helped
me to my feet, “Let’s go get some dinner.”

CHAPTER NINE

History

The best part about Christmas vacation was a
break from the endless hours at school. The worst part was the
changeable weather. After the clear skies on the weekend another
storm blew in, ruining my plans to go surfing with Ethan. The irony
was that he finally had a little more time to surf. Aside from some
planting in the greenhouses, there wasn’t a whole lot of work on
Lue Khang’s farm in bad weather, and even the year-round farmer’s
market was canceled when it poured down rain.

I spent the stormy days reading and painting
or hanging out with Megan and Cruz. Dutch and Ethan came often for
dinner, with Dutch doing most of the cooking. We all enjoyed his
excellent food, and the perpetually cheerful Abby was even happier
than usual. I was happy too, but I itched to get out into the
water.

I was sorely tempted to slip away and surf
with Lorelei– even in the bad weather, but Ethan had explained that
it wasn’t the rain, but the onshore winds that ruined the surfing.
The wind made choppy waters and crumbly waves that were unsurfable,
so there was simply no point in going out.

Abby didn’t believe in the killing of trees
so Ethan brought us a potted fir and we took it inside and draped
some lights on it. Abby also believed that the materialism
surrounding the holiday brought bad karma, so we all agreed to skip
the presents and focus on volunteering and spending time together.
She dragged me and Cruz to the local homeless shelter where we
worked in the kitchen, preparing and serving meals. We ended up
having more fun than we thought we would, teasing each other about
the ridiculous hairnets they made us wear.

Abby was having a field day with her new
juicer, concocting a dizzying variety of fruit and vegetable juices
and inflicting them on us regularly. Sometimes they were delicious,
sometimes they made Cruz run and hide.

“Hey Marina, remind me to thank Evie for the
beet-cucumber juice,” he said sarcastically.

“It beats the celery-kale-wheatgrass,” I
reminded him, cringing as I recalled the vile tasting concoction
with the awful flavor of dirt and grass combined.

“Blechh!” Cruz grimaced, “Might as well lick
a lawnmower blade.”

A few days before Christmas a large box
addressed to me arrived from Gstaad. It contained a card from Evie
wishing us all Merry Christmas, along with a multi-tiered box of
Swiss chocolates and two small wrapped gifts for Cruz and me. The
bulk of the box was stuffed with clothing, and I wasn’t surprised;
the area was famous for its exclusive shops and expensive
boutiques. Evie liked to spend the season at luxury hotels with her
jet-set friends, shopping, getting spa treatments and dressing to
the hilt for multiple rounds of high society balls and parties.

Cruz oohed and ahhed over each new garment I
pulled out and urged me to try them on. I hesitated, a little
overwhelmed at the sheer quantity and lavishness of the clothes. I
was used to Evie’s shopping sprees, but she was definitely stepping
it up a notch. It felt odd looking at such expensive things after
seeing all the shabbily dressed homeless people at the soup
kitchen, but there was no denying the seductive beauty of the
exquisitely crafted clothing.

“Don’t be silly!” Cruz scolded me for my
reticence as he inspected a leather jacket with intricate laser-cut
detailing. “Someone has to buy them!” He looked at me like I was
crazy, “And someone has to wear them, otherwise my future career is
in big trouble. Consider yourself a patron of the arts!”

I smiled and conceded that Cruz had a point.
Evie’s generosity couldn’t be questioned; I couldn’t think of
anyone else who gave more to charity. I also couldn’t think of
anyone who had done more for my father and me. I handed Cruz the
gift from Evie and watched as he tore it open. It was a silver
watch with a numberless black face.

“It’s a Movado,” Cruz gasped, “This is
amazing. I should make her something incredible... We need to call
her— what time is it in Switzerland?”

“It’s like two in the morning there, you have
to wait ’till tomorrow,” I said, holding up a sheer silk blouse
with a blue print that looked like shimmering ice.

“I’m going to go hit the drawing board,” Cruz
announced as he sprang to his feet. When he was inspired he
surrendered to the muse, and would disappear into his room for
days. Abby would have to remind him to stop and eat, and I’d pitch
in and try to keep him from getting too far behind in his
schoolwork. We’d check in to find him hunched over the work table
in his room, loud rock and roll drowning out the clattering sound
of the sewing machine.

I brought the chocolates out to the kitchen,
setting them on the table with a sigh. Abby was off somewhere and
the house felt still and empty. I wandered out to the couch and
plopped down, leafing absentmindedly through a yoga magazine. The
wind blowing against the window howled a lonely moan that made me
shiver. I wondered what Ethan was up to.

The newspaper said the weather was supposed
to clear up overnight, and I hoped to get some surfing in soon.
Unfortunately, Ethan had already promised Dutch he’d help crew a
fishing charter going out early in the morning. He said we could
still surf if they got back in time.
If
, I thought,
wandering over to the bookshelf restlessly.

I debated setting out to find Lorelei first
thing in the morning, but I was more than a little afraid. When I
surfed with her I was fearless, but I had the sense to recognize
that what I was doing was dangerous. It was also exhilarating, and
I craved it so badly I could taste it. If the weather was good I
couldn’t waste a free day without going out in the water. I sat and
grappled with myself over what I would do.

Looking out the window onto such a cold gray
afternoon, it was hard to believe nicer weather was on the way. A
lone figure determinedly made its way down the street in the
blustery wind, and I watched it draw nearer. I was surprised to
recognize Shayla walking with her head down, hair blowing all
around. Her arms were crossed in front of her thin T-shirt; she
looked miserable as she trudged towards the beach. Curious, I went
out onto the porch.

“Shayla,” I called out, and she looked up.
Her face was angry and mean, her jaw clenched.

“Hey,” she nodded and kept walking. Something
made me continue onto the street.

“Where are you going?” I called out.

She stopped and turned, “Nowhere.”

I pressed on, “Do you want to come in... and
hang out?”

She stopped and hesitated, reminding me of
the feral cats on the beach.

She looked towards the beach and back at me,
“OK,” she said, following me in. The house felt warm after the
drizzly chill of the street.

“Do you want some coffee or something?” I
asked, as she looked around at Abby’s house.

“OK,” she said again, and followed me into
the kitchen. She watched in fascination as I ground the beans and
loaded up the coffeemaker.

“Have a seat,” I motioned to the kitchen
table.

“Whoa, that’s a totally massive box of
candy.”

“They arrived today from Switzerland,” I
said, “My Aunt Evie spends her holidays there.”

“So your dad’s still in Afghanistan?” she
asked, “For Christmas too?”

“Yeah,” I said as I started to open the
chocolates.

“Where’s your mom?” she asked.

“I don’t have one,” I said, lifting box after
velvet covered box from the giant stack.

“Why? What happened?” she asked.

I put out two cups for the coffee, “She died
when I was born,” I said. I was used to telling people– it didn’t
make me sad to say it. Shayla looked worried, like she expected a
bad reaction.

“Uh, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, “It was a long time
ago.” I poured the coffee and sat down with her. “Which one should
we open first?”

“Don’t you wanna save them?” she asked.

“For what?”

“I dunno, Christmas?” she said.

I picked up the biggest box, “I think there’s
enough chocolate here to last until next Christmas!” I smiled,
thinking about Evie. I could imagine her at the chocolatier’s,
ordering the biggest box they had. I opened the box and passing it
to Shayla. She shook her head no, and I noticed that she was
holding her right hand in her lap oddly.

“What happened?” I asked, nodding towards
it.

“Nothing,” she said, slipping it under the
table.

“Can I see?” I asked, suspicious.

“I’m okay.”

I remembered not wanting to show Ethan my
wounds, and how I really needed help without wanting to admit it.
Foolish pride, insecurity, lack of trust– I could see all my
weaknesses displayed in Shayla.

“Let me see it,” I demanded, channeling my
inner Evie as I patted the table with as much authority as I could
muster.

She pulled her hand up reluctantly, and I had
to swallow hard to stifle a gasp. There was a network of cuts laced
out across the heel of her palm, dried blood mixing with fresh.

“I screwed up,” she said, bowing her head. “I
put my hand through a window.”

“Ouch,” I said, “We should clean that up.
I’ll go get some bandages.”

I went and got the box of gauze and tape that
Ethan had brought for me when I needed help. I washed her hand off
in the sink, relieved to find no really deep cuts. I had
unintentionally become an expert on lacerations after injuring
myself sleepwalking. We sat down at the table as I daubed it
dry.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I replied, looking up
to see Cruz make his way in the kitchen with his sketchbook.

“Shayla,” he said, surprised. He looked at
her hand, “Oh my God! What happened?”

I met his eyes steadily, “She had a little
accident, we’re just getting it wrapped up. Little help here?” Cruz
tore off some strips of tape and handed them to me to finish the
job. He got himself some coffee and sat down with us. “There,” I
said, giving her back her hand.

Cruz started looking through the boxes of
chocolate. He opened one to reveal marbled white and dark chocolate
truffles shaped like seashells. Another box had chocolate molded
like flowers.

“Edelweiss,” Cruz said, passing the box to
Shayla and eating one.

“What?” Shayla asked.

“The flower,” he said, “You know, like in
‘The Sound of Music’?”

Shayla stared blankly.

Cruz looked surprised, “Never mind, it’s a
Swiss thing.” He opened another box to reveal an assortment molded
into tiny bears. Soon we had all eaten all the chocolate we could
manage.

“Can I see?” I asked Cruz, reaching for his
sketchbook. He nodded and I leafed through it to see page after
page of fantastic clothes, drawn with a meticulous hand. I found
detailed sketches of the gown I wore to Evie’s as well as many that
were yet to be made. Shayla glanced over with curiosity.