03 The Fate Of The Muse - Marina's Tales (19 page)

“No thanks, the cab driver’s waiting out
front,” Shayla said breathlessly. She sounded like she’d been
running.

“Don’t worry,” Evie said reassuringly, taking
Shayla firmly by the arm and leading her to the table, “They get
paid to wait.”

“I’ll go get my bag,” I said, rushing to
retrieve the things I’d packed the night before. When I returned,
Shayla looked up at me nervously from the table.

Evie gestured to my cup, “Marina, sit down
and finish your coffee before you go.”

It was more of a command than an invitation.
I sat, looking across the table at her with an attitude of calm
defiance. I knew I was in for a talking to.

Evie sighed theatrically, rubbing her
temples, “Girls,” she said, looking at each of us in turn, “Take my
advice. It’s still a man’s world, and this world is full of men of
real
consequence
. Men that have the wealth and power to
protect you… to provide you with everything you’ll need to live a
life of luxury… a life free from worry.”

Shayla’s wide-set blue eyes met mine, her
eyebrows raised.

“Trust me, you
will
regret it if you
settle for anything less,” Evie looked at me meaningfully.

There was an uncomfortable silence as we
stared each other down across the table. Shayla squirmed uneasily
in her seat, looking back and forth between the two of us. She
finally set her coffee cup down and pushed back from the table.

“Geez Evie! The olden days called– and they
want their attitude back!” Shayla blurted out.

I smiled broadly, surprised to see Shayla
contradict Evie.

“We better get going,” I jumped up, coming
around the table to kiss both of Evie’s cheeks before she could say
anything else, “I’ll come to see you in San Francisco.”

We hastily made our exit, running down the
hallway to the elevator like we were breaking out of jail. When we
got to the cab our eyes met and we burst into excited laughter. We
were young, free, and on our way to go surfing in Hawaii!

I felt a little rush of carefree joy I hadn’t
experienced in a while. My watery dream had me craving the ocean,
and I knew it wouldn’t be long now. Surfing would be the best
medicine for my troubled mind; I could breathe easier knowing that
relief was on the way.

“So what’s up with Evie?” Shayla asked.

“Oh, just the usual,” I sighed, “I suppose
I’d better get used to it.”

We boarded a small jet that was comfortable
inside, but nowhere near as luxuriously appointed as Evie’s. After
takeoff we each settled into reclining seats by the windows and
tried to relax. The flight to Hawaii was over fifteen hours long,
and we both knew we should get as much rest as possible.

“I’m still not used to Paris time!” Shayla
complained, too keyed up to sleep.

“Pretty soon, you’ll be an expert on
jet-lag,” I said prophetically.

Shayla jumped up, “Check out all the swag I
got backstage! Let’s pick some stuff out for Cruz!”

She dumped out a giant tote bag packed with
clothes and accessories on one of the empty seats and we picked
through the booty, looking for things we thought he might like. I
chose a fawn colored Pashmina scarf, and Shayla held up a brass
studded belt.

“I know!” She dug in her giant purse and
pulled out a bottle of spicy cologne.

I held up a red beret, “What about this? Cruz
could go commando on us.”

Shayla burst into raucous laughter, snorting
and slapping her knee.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, sending her
further into hysterics.

We ended up wrapping everything in a French
newspaper and packing it into the leather bag I’d picked out for
Cruz on our shopping day. We cracked jokes about silly people we
had seen at the fashion shows, laughing until we were gasping for
breath, finally settling down to try and sleep.

“Marina?” Shayla said drowsily, snuggling
under a blanket. She tipped up the sleeping mask that she had
pulled out of her bag and donned like a seasoned traveler, “Thanks…
I mean,
really
thanks, ya know what I mean?”

“I know,” I said, “Go to sleep.”

I looked out the window at the endless
expanse of ocean as we flew over the Atlantic, uneasy thoughts
circling like vultures in the back of my mind. I had taken
Marissa’s warning about the tapped phone lines seriously, and
decided to wait until we got to Hawaii to call Ethan. I closed my
eyes, reclining in my seat and trying desperately to get some rest;
sleep alone could ease my troubled mind.

I dozed on and off, thinking about Ethan,
wondering if Amber had come snooping around to see him while I was
away. I couldn’t stop tormenting myself, wondering just how serious
she and Ethan were before they broke up. Thinking of them together
aggravated me all over again. Of course they were serious, I
thought. Ethan was serious about everything. It was one of the
things I loved about him.

As much as I resented her, I didn’t want to
see anyone else get hurt. Ethan said they were friends; would he
even be able to look at me if something happened to her? I
grimaced, imagining how I’d feel the next time I saw her. How could
I risk running into her at college when my jealous anger could turn
deadly at any moment? I was scared, and I had to wonder; was I
afraid that I was going to hurt her, or was I afraid that Ethan was
going to hurt me?

I looked over at Shayla, her head lolled
back, vulnerable only in sleep. She’d come so far so fast it was
almost scary. She was a good argument for the doubling effect; two
muses must amplify each other’s power. She was getting it from both
me and Evie. It occurred to me that I’d never seen Evie really
angry.

I took some deep yogic breaths, and focused
on visualizing Abby and the baby. It was a happy thought, for
Ethan’s little sister would be born soon, and like Nixie, I saw her
as a harbinger of better times to come. A new baby was as
inspirational as a blank canvas– fresh possibilities and a new
beginning for all of us. I held tight onto that notion as I tried
unsuccessfully to sleep.

When we started descending I nudged Shayla
awake, knowing she’d want to witness the landing. After flying over
thousands of miles of open ocean, the island of Maui rose up from
the sea like a faceted stone, cloaked in velvety green. Deep blue
water lightened to a turquoise ring around the gemlike island.
Towering volcanic peaks flanked with verdant rainforests dropped
down to meet clean sandy beaches. It was everything Kimo had told
me and more; from the air, Hawaii looked like paradise on
earth.

We stepped out of the plane and into the
bright sunshine of a late Hawaiian afternoon. The soft warm air
felt like a caress, and smelled as fresh as the sea.

“Look!” Shayla cried, pointing at the
remarkable sight of not just one, but two rainbows shimmering in
the distance. We stood on the steps of the plane, transfixed; that
had to be a good sign.

“You must be Shayla?” A man came trotting up
to the plane, taking our bags and motioning for us to follow him.
“They sent me to take you to the hotel in Hana,” he said. We
followed him to another small terminal. We were led out to a small
helicopter, and Shayla looked at me nervously.

“It’ll be okay,” I said, remembering the last
time I’d flown one of these contraptions. What were the odds
anything would go wrong twice?

The pilot went on to explain that the road to
Hana was long and treacherous, and that his job was to get Shayla
to the hotel in time for her to get a good night’s sleep and be
ready for a long day of shooting tomorrow. We took our seats and
slipped on the earphones that he handed us. The flight lasted about
half an hour, during which we were treated to some of the most
spectacular rainforest scenery on earth.

Every time our eyes met Shayla and I broke
into an “I can’t believe this is really happening” grin. After the
helicopter set down lightly, we both laughed with joy.

“Thank you so much for bringing me along,” I
said solemnly, “You have no idea how much I needed to get
away.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t even be here if
it wasn’t for you… Hell, I wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for
you!”

We both burst into hysterical laughter again,
for although it was true, it seemed like something from out of a
movie. Once more, were overcome with a giddy feeling of freedom and
an exciting sense of adventure. Our guide looked at us oddly, and
we dissolved into another giggly laughing fit at the look on his
face. He seemed relieved to deposit us at our hotel.

Once we got settled in and had our dinner I
slipped away to call Ethan. It was late at night in California, but
he picked up right away.

“Marina! Are you okay? Why didn’t you
call?”

I knew I’d kept him waiting, but things had
been happening so fast I wasn’t even sure what day it was.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” I said soothingly.

“What happened?” he asked anxiously, “What
did they say?”

“They believed me– they didn’t even ask about
the mermaids.”

“Really?” he sounded relieved, “Good! When
are you getting home?”

“Uhm, something happened and I’m… Hey– Shayla
did really great! She was in a bunch of French newspapers, and all
the designers are fighting to have her in their shows!”

“Of course they are,” he chuckled.

“Yeah… well, she got this big job. The
swimsuit edition of Sports Illustrated. They’re shooting it in Maui
with a surfer theme, and they wanted a model who could surf.”

“Wow! Shayla?” he sounded bemused, “Who would
have believed it? But then again… she’s got you.”

“Stop that,” I said, irritated. He knew I
didn’t like it when he brought it up.

“I’m sorry,” his voice softened, “I miss you.
When are you coming home?”

“I miss you too,” I said, and it was suddenly
so true I ached, “I just got to Hawaii with Shayla.”

“WHAT?”

“It all happened so fast… They chartered her
a jet, and she really wanted me to go and–”

“You couldn’t take five minutes to call me?”
he sounded upset.

I thought about telling him about Marissa and
Olivia, but decided not to get into it over the phone.

“Something kinda bad happened, and I needed
to get out of Paris, and then I never got the chance…”

“I thought you said it went okay! How long
are you gonna be
there
?” his voice was tight.

“They’re going to shoot the pictures
tomorrow, and we were thinking about trying to surf a little the
next day before I–”

“I suppose you’re gonna meet up with Kimo.” I
was taken aback, surprised that he would bring him up, startled at
the bitter edge to his voice.

“No! Not at all! I’m flying to San Francisco
the day after tomorrow.”

He was quiet, and I could tell his feelings
were hurt.

“Look, I’ll be home soon. Hey– Evie was upset
that I wouldn’t come straight back to Paris along with Shayla!”

“
That
I believe,” he said
unhappily.

“What’s going on with the eminent domain
case?” I asked, not wanting to even think about Evie, “Did Lue get
himself a good lawyer?”

“He doesn’t need one,” he said, “She won the
special election. We have a new Congresswoman. She’s putting a stop
to the whole deal.”

“Already? That’s great news!” I said
happily.

“Yeah.” He didn’t sound as excited about it
as he should have.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing.” I could feel the weight of the
whole ocean between us.

“Ethan?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s so pretty here, I wish you were with
me.”

He sighed into the phone, and he sounded
tired, “Maybe someday.”

“I love you.”

“Me too.”

“I’ll call you when I get back to Aptos.”

“Alright.”

I snapped the phone shut, disturbed that he
would bring up Kimo, surprised by the tone of his voice when he
did. It’s not like I came to Hawaii for anything other than
Shayla’s photo shoot… and to be honest, the surfing. Ethan sounded
about as irrational concerning Kimo as I was about Amber. The big
difference was, I never dated Kimo, and I was certainly never in
love with him. When I slipped the phone back into my purse the
aquamarine caught my eye.

I held it up to the light, admiring the
sparkling blue green stone. Why did love have to make everyone so
crazy? I always thought that being in love would be smooth sailing
on tranquil seas. Instead, I felt like I was being tossed around in
a violent storm with only a few fleeting moments of calm. Ethan and
I tried to chart a path, but we kept getting blown off track by
unforeseen winds.

I put the necklace back on with
determination.

I remembered some character in a Shakespeare
play saying, “The course of true love never did run smooth”. At the
time it meant nothing to me, but now I could see the truth of it. I
guess we all sailed in perilous waters, and the best we could hope
for was to stay afloat.

I for one, planned on keeping my head
above
the water.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

FAME

The next morning we left our room to catch
the shuttle that was scheduled to take us to the photo shoot. It
was pretty easy to spot our group, for the dozen or so people
milling about in the lobby stood out like a sore thumb among the
typical Hawaiian tourists. Impossibly tall, thin girls stood head
and shoulders above a couple of decidedly less glamorous, but
infinitely more interesting creative types. I immediately
recognized them as the stylists and makeup artists.

We joined the group, introducing ourselves,
and were rudely scrutinized by a few of the more famous models,
“Who are you?” a gazelle-like brunette with a Russian accent asked
me, guessing correctly that I wasn’t the swimsuit model type.