Derrolyn Anderson - [Marinas Tales #1] - Between The Land And The Sea (2 page)

Looking out the window on the beautiful summer day, she decided that it absolutely must be a convertible.

Evie flung open the door to receive my father while I busied myself packing away her latest shopping excesses. The little dogs lunged at him, snapping and snarling in a comic attempt at viciousness. They seemed to know he was there to take me from them.

Dad looked down with an amused face. “Call off the hounds,” he smiled at Evie, greeting her with a brusque embrace. He sighed with resignation when he saw all the shopping bags I was gathering. My father has always been mystified by the sheer quantity of expensive clothing that Evie showers on me; he simply can’t comprehend the point in all the artifice of fashion. Despite his disapproval, he never complained about it too much, for Evie served a purpose. I’m sure he was relieved to abdicate the responsibility of dressing a daughter.

“Martin,” Evie turned to him fervently, “You must be careful out there in that Godforsaken place. You’ll be in our hearts until your safe return.” She took him by both hands and stared at him intensely with her crystal gaze, “I know you’ll do your very best for those poor people.”

“Thank you Evie,” he said solemnly.

She gathered herself with some effort, “I’ve had Boris bring the Phantom around and load Marina’s luggage. Now… scoot before you make me cry and ruin my face!”

“Goodbye Evie,” said Dad.

“Thank you for all the beautiful things,” I hugged her close, enveloped in a comforting cloud of her perfume, “I’ll call to let you know how everything fits. Maybe my cousin will drive me up for a visit...”

Dad ushered me out the door and into the elevator down to the garage. A gleaming silver convertible pulled up, with a giant of a man emerging from behind the wheel.

“Morning Boris,” said my father with a friendly nod.

Boris nodded a greeting in return and winked at me. He was enormous, a hugely tall and heavily muscled colossus. His broad shoulders, thick neck and bald head gave him a frightening appearance, but I knew that looks could be deceiving. Boris was a gentle giant, the ever present guardian of our building, possessed of an eagle eye that continually scanned for unwelcome intruders.

“Vatch your back sir,” he said in his thick Russian accent as he held the door open for my dad.

“Thanks Boris, I will,” Dad replied with confidence, heaving a couple of shopping bags into the back seat before climbing in.

Boris opened the passenger door for me, “Cheers up kiddo,” he said, patting my head with a huge meaty hand, “Aptos is not so far avay.”

I slid into the seat and gestured for him to come closer, reaching out to rub his bald head for good luck like I used to when I was little. His face split into a grin and his booming laugh echoed in my ears as we pulled away.

We cruised down a ribbon of road that wound along the California coast, sailing through the warm summer air. The wind whipped my ponytail around, lashing my cheeks with long brown strands as I looked out across the endless sea. The water sparkled with infinite shades of blue and green; it grew darker right at the horizon line and was sliced in two by the sun’s shimmering reflection. It would make a nice painting, I thought... maybe I would start one tonight.

“I bet you’re gonna enjoy high school,” my father raised his voice over the wind, glancing over at me as he tried to gauge my mood.

I pretended not to hear him as I gazed out at the ocean. Any other day it would have been a pleasant journey, but I was feeling nervous and unsettled, totally incapable of working up any false enthusiasm.

“Your Aunt Abigail is really looking forward to having you,” he continued on louder, still trying to sell me on the move, and no doubt assuage his guilty conscience. “You and Cruz will get to spend your senior year together.”

We drove south, hugging the shoreline, soaking up the afternoon sun and expansive ocean views. I looked at the tiny flying lady ornament on the car’s hood, the land and sea whizzing past her outstretched arms and billowing gown. She looked happy and free- the exact opposite of how I felt. We came to a section of highway with a few vans and beat up old trucks lining the side of the road. Dad pulled over and parked.

“Marina, look at the surfers,” he said, leaning across me to get a better view of the water.

I looked down to see a smattering of tiny figures on the ocean, sitting upright on surfboards.

Several of them suddenly materialized upright and skimmed across the waves, leaving plumes of white water behind them, flying like the lady sailing on the highway.

He slumped back in his seat with a sigh, “Honey, you know I’ll miss you, but you should spend some time at a real school. I’m afraid I’ve been selfish... keeping you with me all these years. I just want to give you a chance to live a normal life for a while.”

“Dad, I like my life. I don’t want it to change,” I said.

“Change is not always a bad thing,” he smiled encouragingly, “This is your last chance to go to high school before you start college. You know, football games... prom?”

“Not interested in the least,” I replied with a grimace.

“You never know until you try,” he said cheerily.

I sighed, and cast him an annoyed glance. I knew he worried about me. I’d always had a solitary nature, but my father perceived me as being isolated. I could happily go an entire day without speaking a word to anyone, and I spent all my time with adults. I truly considered Evie my best friend and didn’t see anything at all wrong with it. The situation bothered Dad, but I’d always been able to talk him out of sending me to boarding school. He’d often argued that I needed to spend time with younger people, but he could never win me over in a debate on the merits.

Reason failed this time so he went to work on my conscience.

He looked across at me, his eyes solemn, “Honey, I can make a big difference for some people that really need the help.”

Dad had an annoying way of putting things into perspective. Though his work didn’t always attract the same sort of attention more glamorous scientific research did, I knew how vitally important it was. An expert in the field of agronomy, my father pioneers new agricultural techniques, helping farmers to increase production and improve their crops. It sounded like a small thing, really, but countless lives had been saved from poverty and starvation as a direct result of his research.

And now he was going to risk his life in a remote and primitive country in yet another sincere effort to help even more people. A flood of shame and guilt washed over me.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, managing a convincing smile, “I’ll just miss you.” We sat there for a few minutes, watching the surfers ride the waves. I noticed a small group of girls gathered by the parked cars, and I studied them. Boldly wearing miniscule bikinis and flipping their sun-streaked hair in the warm breeze, they laughed as though they hadn’t a care in the world. They were all so tanned and healthy I felt like I was looking at a summery perfume ad in one of Evie’s fashion magazines.

When their faces all turned to us I realized that Evie’s shining silver Rolls Royce was starting to attract attention. They elbowed each other and pointed as I slumped down in my seat, hiding behind my sunglasses. Evie loved causing a stir with all of her fine things, but their open stares made me uncomfortable.

“Let’s go now, dad,” I said.

We followed the coastal highway until we reached the Aptos exit. As we neared the shoreline I caught a whiff of spicy Eucalyptus leaves mingled with briny sea air. The scent was at once exotic and familiar, and I felt a small ache of fresh sorrow mingled with nostalgia.

“Here we are,” announced Dad, “Boy, has this town grown.” We slowly cruised through a quaint seaside village with a smattering of charming little shops. The main street led to a long sandy beach with a fishing pier connecting to an old wrecked ship that sat on the ocean floor.

There was a gas station, burger joint, and a little convenience store that sold ice and flip-flops to tourists.

I vaguely remembered the area, but because of our traveling we hadn’t made the drive down in years. Dad seemed to want to avoid this place, saying he wasn’t a person who liked the seaside. As a result, I’d spent my life living on either rustic farmland or in cosmopolitan San Francisco, and hadn’t seen my aunt and cousin since they’d been up to the city several years earlier.

We turned down a narrow lane that led to a row of small houses on a bluff overlooking the beach. My aunt had lived here for as far back as I could remember, transforming a ramshackle vacation cottage into a cozy home surrounded by a lush garden. Over time, all the little bungalows that used to sit empty in winter had been snapped up and remodeled. To her surprise, Aunt Abigail found that she lived in a very desirable area. All around the neighborhood apartment buildings and condos vied for the ocean views, but her little street stood out like an oasis of charm and tranquility amongst them. I started to relax, thinking maybe living here wouldn’t be so bad after all.

We pulled up to my aunt’s house and parked behind an ancient yellow Volvo. She was waiting out front, perched on a small bench on her porch. The front of the house was festooned with wind chimes, hanging planters, and hummingbird feeders. She was waving and smiling brightly. I felt a peaceful wave of calm pass over me.

“Martin! Marina! Welcome!” she cried, and reached out to embrace us one after the other.

She was tall and tanned, with a slim build like my father, and her long blonde hair gleamed in the bright sunshine. She moved with a graceful flowing gait due to her years as a yoga instructor.

She had the wrinkles around her friendly blue eyes of someone who smiled a lot, and spent a considerable amount of time outdoors. She was beautiful.

“Thank you for letting me stay with you Aunt Abigail,” I said.

“Oh Marina, it’s my pleasure– just look at how grown up you are! It’s been much too long since you were last here! My Goodness... you’re so much like–” she paused and flashed a glance at Dad, making a sour face, “
He’s
the only one that calls me Abigail. Please always call me Abby.”

I looked up to see my cousin Cruz standing awkwardly in the doorway. He had grown at least a foot since I’d last seen him. His hair was styled in a shaggy fringe that swept over his eyes, which were rimmed with smudged black eyeliner. He had an assortment of silver metal piercings in his ears and eyebrows and was dressed in interesting clothes, all varying shades of black. In contrast to his mother, he had the pallor of someone who rarely saw the sun, let alone went outside.

When our eyes met I could see despite his new look he was still the same sweet, shy Cruz I remembered. I had seen much more extreme punks in San Francisco. I rushed over to give him a big hug.

“M-Marina,” he stammered, “You grew up!” We both started laughing and any tension in the atmosphere dissolved immediately.

“Martin, I hope you’ll stay for dinner,” Abby chimed in, beaming with happiness.

My father explained that he had to leave right away in order to make his flight, but promised to take us all out to the best restaurant in town when he got back. So, with a flurry of apologies and multiple trips unloading suitcases and boxes, we gathered to say our final goodbyes. I fought to hold back tears as we hugged tightly. Dad stepped over to Abby and pressed an envelope into her hands.

“That’s not neces-” Abby protested.

“I insist,” Dad said firmly. He gave me a final hug and a kiss on both cheeks. We stood and watched as he backed the Rolls out and drove away.

There was a chill in the air and I looked up to see a massive wall of fog creeping towards the sunny little house. It looked like a fluffy block of gray cotton about four stories tall, advancing in little wisps and puffs that swirled all around us like smoke.

“I hope you don’t mind fog,” sighed Abby, “Aptos is one of the foggiest spots on the coast.”

“I think you’re forgetting where I just came from,” I teased her with a sideways glance.

Now the dense gray cloud fully encased us and the temperature dipped noticeably. The air was heavy with moisture and smelled of saltwater and seaweed.

“Brrr! Let’s go in and get you settled,” Abby said, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms.

I was shown to a tiny room with a window looking out onto a jewel-box of a garden. The walls were painted a soothing aqua, a color that Evie favored me in, and I decided to take it as a good omen. A single bed with a white down comforter dominated the room. A fat orange tabby cat slept curled into a ball in the center of the bed, making a crater in the puffy blanket. A tiny desk with a bright blue wooden chair sat in the corner.

There was no closet, but a metal clothes rack on wheels stood against one wall filled with empty hangers. There was a full length mirror mounted opposite the window that reflected the lush plantings outside. My pile of suitcases made the room look even smaller than it already was.

“Charlie!” Abby screeched when she noticed the cat. “I’m sorry Marina, I’ve been trying to keep him out of here, but he seems to think we fixed up the room for him.” Charlie looked up nonchalantly and croaked out a rusty meow.

“I love cats!” I exclaimed. Because of our traveling I had never been allowed a pet of my own. Evie said that her dogs might as well be mine since I was the only other person they liked, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t the same thing. “He’s welcome to sleep in here anytime he wants,” I said, scratching him under his chin. He purred like a jet engine and started to drool a little bit.

“I hope you’ll be comfortable here,” Abby said with an anxious look, “I know you’re probably used to a little more space.”

“It’s perfect,” I said, and I really meant it. The bedroom was small, but it had a cozy feeling.

It was odd, but I had the strangest sensation the room already knew me.

“OK, there are clean towels in the hall closet and I’ll have dinner ready in about half an hour,” Abby beamed. “I’ll leave you to get settled in.” She turned to go, her eyes shimmering with emotion, “It’s really good to have you back.” She closed the door softly.