The Islands (26 page)

Catherine finished her tea and wondered what Bradley was doing now that the ship had left the harbour. He'd looked so handsome in his white uniform as he'd walked away from her that morning. But she'd had the feeling that with each step he took across that lawn he was already moving into a different world that she didn't know and couldn't share.

It took only a short while to tidy the apartment and then she rang PJ.

‘So is it still okay to bring Lester over?'

‘I'm ready and waiting. I have just the spot. Meet me outside the Diamond Head Hotel. It's too rocky and too shallow near his apartment.'

Lester was dressed in swim shorts and his favourite aloha shirt was unbuttoned revealing a tanned chest sprinkled with white hairs, the skin sagging where once there'd been muscles. He gave her a quick smile.

‘How're you this morning, Lester?'' she asked.

‘Well, honey, I've been better. Now, who's the young turk who had this idea?'

‘His name is PJ. He's originally from California, I think. Been here quite a while. He's nice, admires you hugely. He seems to understand what the ocean means to you.' Catherine knew Lester spent many hours watching the sea from his lanai or a deck chair by the pool. To her the empty ocean seemed boring unless there were boats, or people on the beach or in the water, but obviously to Lester just gazing at it gave him some inner satisfaction.

‘Just so long as he doesn't want to show me what a good surfer he is. Ask for tips, rave about the new modern boards,' said Lester firmly.

‘Oh no. Anyway he said there wouldn't be a big swell, just smallish waves or something,' said Catherine.

Lester didn't answer, in fact he looked rather inscrutable and Catherine wondered what he was thinking.

They drove past elegant homes hidden behind high gates among lush trees at the ocean cliff edge where wealthy mainlanders had established an exclusive colony.

Lester glanced up at Diamond Head. ‘When I first came here we used to hike up to Diamond Head. Punchbowl Lookout too. I had some good times here.'

‘What's your favourite place?' asked Catherine, thinking it might make a good photograph.

Lester looked at her as if he was making sure she really didn't know the answer. ‘The ocean.'

Catherine mentally added her unspoken comment. ‘Of course.'

PJ was waiting in the small parking lot at the edge of the beach, standing by an old panel van with cream and wooden trim. Catherine could see the van held surfboards, towels and a mattress in the back. PJ, in a pair of long surfing shorts, gave a wave and opened the car door for Lester.

PJ and Lester walked to the edge of the sand and studied the water. A line of low breakers rolled lazily towards the shore. A deeper channel cut between the breaking surf and a sandbar. Lester leant on his stick as PJ pointed at the waves.

Catherine watched them, both similar in body shape and height. Lester's silver hair had once been as fair as PJ's sun-bleached curls, both had sun-soaked skin but where PJ's was taut and smooth, Lester's skin was baked into grooves and wrinkles like the whorls on the surface of the sea. They spoke together quietly, pausing occasionally to study the ocean. Catherine felt reluctant to intrude so she quietly took her camera from the car and began taking some distance shots instead.

Then the two men started to walk towards the water. For a moment or two Lester found it difficult to walk on the sand as his stick was useless. PJ casually tucked his board under his arm next to Lester so the old man could lightly rest his hand on its shiny bright surface for support. Closer to the water PJ laid down his board and dropped his towel. Lester took off his shirt and PJ glanced back at Catherine who was following them and then, together, the two watermen entered the sea.

Catherine's heart lurched at the sight of Lester's thin legs supporting him as he took his first steps into the water. Even though there was no strong undertow and the waves had trickled to a ripple by the time they slapped onto the beach, Lester seemed unsteady. PJ stood still letting Lester test the water and then pointed to the channel. Lester nodded and PJ took his hand and together, as a parent leads a child, they made their way across the knee-deep water over the sandbar. They reached the deeper dark water sliding between the shallow sandbar and the breaking waves and suddenly Lester dropped PJ's hand and dived into the channel, popped up and swam a few strokes, turned and swam easily along the channel parallel to shore, PJ following.

Even from a distance Catherine could sense Lester's elation. This was obviously better than swimming in the small pool at his apartment. The two men trod water side by side and then, by apparent agreement, Lester duck dived and swam under a breaking wave. Catherine caught her breath but the old man was young again, swimming strongly then turning to watch the line of waves before choosing one and in three arm strokes was on it, gliding into the channel in the white foam. PJ leapt up jubilantly pumping the air with an arm.

Lester swam back and caught several more waves before moving back to the channel and floating on his back to rest. PJ waded quickly across the bar, ran to the sand, grabbed his surfboard and paddled back to Lester.

He helped Lester onto the board and as Catherine watched through the lens of her camera, PJ pushed Lester back towards the waves. Lester dug his arms into the water and pulled the board towards the break. PJ swam beside him and then Lester turned the board towards the beach. PJ held onto it, treading water as they waited.

They picked an even, long-rolling wave, its fullness curled within it waiting to unfurl like a flag on the smoother water. Lester began stroking, PJ gave an added push and the old man and the board cleaved neatly through the water, Lester guiding its direction with one arm so it cut across the face of the wave as it raced over the channel before dissipating on the shallow sand bar. PJ caught a following wave and reached Lester as he lay on the board, his cheek resting against the gritty wax. Catherine put her camera on PJ's towel and waded out to them.

‘Hey, Lester! Fantastic! How was that?'

He didn't answer but looked for PJ who was quickly beside him.

‘Roll, Lester.' As Lester rolled into the water, PJ motioned to Catherine. ‘Grab the board.'

She was surprised at how light it was and as PJ helped Lester regain his feet and his balance on the sand bar, she waded through the water beside them. At the water's edge Lester lowered himself to the sand and PJ dropped beside him. Catherine carried the board up the beach and put it down carefully beside her camera.

‘Yeah, it felt good,' Lester was telling PJ. ‘Wish my legs could hold me up better, can't jump up easy like I used to. Something you never thought about, you just stood up.'

‘Yeah, when something's natural that's how it is. But you caught a few today.'

‘Been a long time since I can say that,' agreed Lester. ‘Thank you, young man.' Lester smiled at Catherine. ‘You want to learn to surf?'

‘No. But you made it look fun.'

‘Take my board out,' offered PJ.

‘No, thanks. I might just get wet in the channel.' She waded across the bar, stepped into the cooler current in the channel and swam along, noticing that there was a bit of a pull and the swim must have taken a lot of energy out of Lester. She saw a patch of light-green water and stroked towards it. It was a clear patch that looked different from the rest of the channel, but once she reached it she realised it was much deeper and faster flowing.

She tried to stand but it was way over her head, she looked back and saw she was further out to sea than she'd imagined. She caught her breath in sudden panic, turned around and started swimming fiercely, but found she was swimming against the current, which was taking her backwards quicker than she could swim. She looked for PJ but he had his back to her as he helped Lester up the beach towards the parking lot.

Catherine now tried heading straight towards shore aiming for the sandbar, but as she kicked and flailed she found she wasn't making any progress and she was running out of breath. ‘Tread water, call for help,' she told herself.

But PJ still had his back to her and there wasn't anyone else in sight. She felt as though she was on a rapidly moving walkway that was taking her swiftly along the channel. Ahead she could see tossing water and breaking waves. Perhaps if she let herself be taken to the waves she could catch one and glide closer in as Lester had done. But she knew she was in entirely the wrong position, these waves were not smoothly rolling onto the sandbar but looked menacing and she just knew this current would pull her towards the reef.

PJ and Lester had picked a spot that was safe but she had now gone too far out and the currents had suddenly changed. She was getting short of breath as she struggled and her head went under and she swallowed water.

‘Oh no, God, no, don't let me drown, out here, alone . . .'

It was her worst fear. She might be a competent swimmer in calm water, but she was completely inexperienced in the open sea. She spluttered then gulped for air.

‘PJ! PJ!' she screamed.

But she was now so far out that she couldn't make out the distant figures on the beach. She knew she must be a long way down the channel now, her legs and arms were so tired. If only the pulling, pulling water would let her go. The water was more turbulent. Where the drag of the current had been below the surface, a secret, dangerous unseen thing, the water was now rougher, slapping in her face.

It suddenly seemed easier to relax, give in and let go. She closed her eyes. But then she seemed to hear a voice shouting at her and she knew she mustn't give in. Gamely she started thrashing against the water, forcing her arms and legs to churn in a last effort to get to calmer water.

But it was useless, she knew she was wasting energy, getting nowhere. She lifted her head.

‘Stop swimming!' came a shout.

Catherine looked up to see PJ's face looming in front of her. She was so relieved that she stopped flailing.

His surfboard sped close to her and he held out an arm. ‘Hold on to my board! Take my hand,' he shouted.

Catherine grabbed at his hand, clinging on desperately as he came alongside and reached for his board. She found it too slippery and she lost her grip and felt herself slip from his grasp.

But PJ's board bobbed next to her again and he reached over. ‘Grab my ankle and the board if you can!'

She found his foot and the narrow end of the board and held on tightly, trying not to pull PJ off as he dug his arms into the water and pulled towards the shore. She closed her eyes, feeling the power of PJ's strokes carrying them both through the water.

Then suddenly there was no more current, they were in calm, shimmering, harmless water and she could see the shore and PJ's panel van appearing closer.

PJ slid off his board and stood up and helped Catherine to her feet, but her knees were shaking and she felt so weak, she stumbled. PJ put one arm around her, picked up his board with the other and helped her to the sand where she crumpled and sat in a shaking heap.

He sat beside her as she caught her breath, then lifted her head.

‘Thanks.' She coughed.

‘Just breathe slowly and deeply. You're fine. No big deal.'

She was shaking and as she looked out at the sparkling sea, she shook her head. ‘I'm never going back in there again.'

‘You picked a bad patch. It happens. Try not to fight these things.' He touched her shoulder. ‘You're fine. Ready to head back to the car?'

‘I suppose so. I hope my legs hold me up.'

He jumped up, picked up his board and her camera, held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. Holding her hand, he led her back along the beach.

Lester had his shirt and sunnies on and was sitting by the car.

‘I feel so stupid, Lester. That was scary,' she managed to say. She found her towel and rubbed her hair, hiding her face.

‘Good lesson to learn. Respect the sea,' said Lester.

‘Do you ride a horse?' asked PJ.

Catherine nodded. ‘Yes, I have one of my own.'

‘When you fall off, best thing is to get straight back on, right?' said PJ.

‘So they say. And yes, I did,' said Catherine feeling better and calmer now.

‘Okay. Let's go.' PJ picked up his board.

‘What! Back in there? No way.'

‘With me and the board. You can't be scared of the ocean. You just got to understand it. C'mon,' said PJ calmly.

Catherine shook her head. ‘I don't think so.'

‘If you don't go, Hawaii will never be the same for you. Trust PJ,' advised Lester.

PJ took her hand and silently they walked back across the sand towards the ocean, which now looked so benign, so safe, so inviting that Catherine wanted to shout at it as though it were a creature that had frightened her.

PJ held tightly onto her hand until they reached the shallows and then he pushed the board into the water and stood beside it. ‘Get on, just lie flat.'

Catherine lay on the board as PJ waded beside her pushing the board into the deeper water. As soon as they hit the channel and PJ was forced to tread water, she began to shake.

‘Just keep still, try to feel as one with the board. Feel how it's moving with the sea, you're all one. Go with it, don't fight. Put your head down, close your eyes. I'm holding on to you, you won't go anywhere.'

She lay on the board as it bobbed gently, restrained by PJ. The sun was warm on her back, water trickled across the board under her body. She felt herself begin to relax.

‘I'm turning the board, keep your eyes closed,' said PJ softly. ‘Okay, now look up.'

She lifted her head as he thrust the board like a javelin from his grasp. For a split second she felt suspended and then she felt the rush of water, heard it, but before she could glance back, the board was picked up and pushed smoothly and swiftly forward; the beach, the dark hills and PJ's van zoomed closer towards her.