by SJ Cavaletti
20
Elias
Present Day
Uyu
* * *
She said yes. Thank God she said yes. I knew when I told the boys about what tonight needed to be, and they all agreed to help curate a night to remember for Liz, there was still a chance she wouldn’t want this. Wouldn’t want the help.
Liz was a very independent woman. After the accident, she never wanted me to do anything for her. She said that if I became her caretaker, I wouldn’t look at her like a lover anymore. This, of course, was totally untrue, but I knew better than to tell her ego to agree with me.
And so, tonight, when the moment came for us to do our best pre-planned Arnie impressions, make her laugh and offer our help, there was a chance that she’d turn us away, turn herself away, and say goodnight.
Instead she said, “Let’s do it. But like, how do we do it? And what about the chariot? And the wheelchair?”
Solutions were my strong suit. “Koa will put the chair back on his trailer. We know the guy who drives the ship from last year, so he’ll bring us back here. If we can remember where we are…”
I realized the moving dragon party was hardly a landmark. I assessed what I could.
“I can leave some of the battery powered lights on? On the chariot?” Liz said, reading my mind.
“Okay. That’s good. Then me and the boys will take turns with piggybacks. On the ship there are loads of places to sit and just jam. And Clyde, the driver, he’ll give us a cruise. It’ll be fun.”
“Sounds crazy, but right up my street… if you guys are sure?”
She looked at me with that look in her eye. Like waiting in the line for a rollercoaster. For a spilt second, as strange as this whole thing was, the desert, the ship, the dancing… everything… as wild and unusual as it was? It all felt… familiar.
By the time we got to the deck, everyone on board had watched us, wondering if this would all end well. Thank God it did. It wasn’t as easy as we thought it would be, but we got Liz up on that ship and two Gypsies were more than obliged to give us the seats in the bow. The most scenic spot for the desert cruise.
The pirate ship’s polished deck shone a romantic, hazy light. The hung bulbs as big as those in regular lamps but the colors of Christmas trees. Blue, yellow, green and red lights mixed in the night, glowing on our faces, and the surrounding faces, giving us that same feeling of celebration that a lit up Douglas fir does.
We both looked overboard and watched the dragon disco drive away, the sound fading slowly until it was as dark and almost as quiet as outer space itself. In fact, it felt quieter than it was. Because I suddenly realized there was a void, a void of activity and interruption that could be, if we wanted it to, fill with something significant.
Liz settled into the bench spot in the bow and threw her pink coat off one shoulder, getting some air, as the grand effort of getting up the ladder must have been strenuous. One of her breasts peeked out as well. Her nipple, tight and happy through her sheer top, visibly enjoying the air right through the delicate fabric. She smoothed her blonde hair off her neck, allowing the night air to cool her beautiful swan neck.
“I’m impressed,” I said. “You were able to get yourself up quite a few of those ladder rungs pretty much on your own. You got guns, woman.”
Liz hugged herself and squeezed her biceps. “These old things? Believe it or not, I actually trained on ladders like, four years ago? When I first decided I wanted to get fitter, I worked out with this badass military trainer. She tried out to be a Navy Seal.”
“Didn’t make it?”
“No woman has ever been a SEAL.” She paused, looked up into the night sky. “Amazing really… you know she told me the Navy only opened SEAL billets to women in 2016? And only one woman ever reached the end of the two week SOAS training.”
“Wow, wonder what makes it so…”
Liz interrupted because she did that when she was excited. “Yeah, but here’s the thing. This ONE woman, this one incredible strong as hell woman made it to the end, and she didn’t even take a SEAL contract.”
“What happened?”
“Apparently, she didn’t list it as her first choice war-fighting community. But they gave the lady her first choice. So, I guess it was her, not the Navy being sexist. Funny how there are probably people out there pissed off about it. Imagine being the first ever something and then going ‘Nah.’ People are funny. Like your Lance or Buzz going, ‘Yeah, I don’t want to get out. The ship’s comfy.’”
Liz took a strand of her long hair in her fingers and looked at it. Studied it. Not that she would notice much detail in the dim light. It was just her language. Every gesture telling me she was having deep thoughts.
Apparently still about this would-have-been Navy SEAL woman.
“Imagine that. Having all the capability.” She continued, “Going through so much torment. Hell. Such a grueling feat. And then…”
She looked up at me, “Not even going all the way.”
Maybe she wanted to talk because suddenly, the story drew parallels to us. Then again, to me, everything meaningful did.
Over the years, I’d seen Liz and in an eclipse I didn’t have time to see. In babies being born and put up for adoption, in missing the last ferry to catch the sunset on Catalina Island… everything that had missed opportunity written all over it. It reminded me of Liz. This SEAL woman was just another example of one of the world’s biggest missed opportunities.
“Do you remember my friend Hunter?” I asked. “The psych guy I told you about from Johns Hopkins?”
He was the one who’d recommended me ayahuasca.
She nodded. “Think so.”
“He told me there have been actual studies done on regret. This woman makes me think of that. The lost opportunity principle. You know, what would have happened if the moment hadn’t been breached, what could have been possible…”
She nodded, listening. I looked into her eyes, wondering if she was thinking the same thing I was.
That we were the ultimate lost opportunity.
I continued as if my words weren’t weighted, as casual as possible. “Anyway, the study was on regret intensity and apparently, nothing intensifies regret as much as lost opportunity.”
“So you think she’ll regret it? Not being the first woman in history to become a Navy SEAL?”
“I know she’ll regret it. No doubt in my mind.”
And there it was. In the back of her irises, someone flickered a flashlight. And I felt the same searching behind my eyes, too. Liz looked down at her hands, then tucked some fallen hair behind both ears. She shifted in her seat, pulled her coat back over her shoulder, eyes back up, giving me a tight-lipped smile.
My heart bounced around in its tiny, confined space like a rubber ball in a matchbox. Hard and tight in my chest. I knew I had to walk through this feeling to get to the other side, but my palms grew clammy.
We wanted to talk. To have THE talk.
Now might have been the perfect time, but in my peripheral vision a Hawaiian breeze came our way. Koa and Jasmine had nipped blow deck and were back, heading our way.
I wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing, interrupting this inevitable moment, delaying it for another time. My mind wanted it. To purge. But my body seemed to disagree, my chest tightened as if in a straitjacket.
“Hey guys,” Jasmine said, approaching. “Clyde made us some drinks below and we brought you some.”
She handed Liz a drink. “Clyde is the guy who drives the ship. We met him last year. So they’re safe.”
The things women need to say. The need to discuss being dosed.
Koa handed me mine.
“I probably shouldn’t,” Liz said, lifting the cup to her nose, trying to decipher what was in it. “Don’t drink and drive, right? I have the chariot and also my chair…”
“I guess…” Jasmine said, “But it’s just one. Or I can ask him to make you a non-alcoholic one? It’s mostly juice anywa
y… I think.”
Jasmine looked at the sky, coy, not meaning a word she said about the drink being weak, but also clarifying that she tried to bring out the little devil in Liz.
Liz rarely tried to please other people. She wasn’t one to be peer pressured or need to fit in the crowd. But she considered the drink again, looking inside as if it might talk to her, and then took a sip. And I could tell it was to make Jasmine happy.
By the look on Liz’s face, the concoction wasn’t mostly juice. “Whew! If this is juice, it’s devil juice.”
We chuckled. Liz’s face comical, like she’d just eating a habanero pepper whole. She shook her head and settled into the heat. “Okay. Just one. Then I have to stop. Can’t trust you guys to get me down the ladder if you’re all getting twisted.”
Koa leaned in toward Liz and put his hand on her shoulder. “Just one for me, too. We’ll get you down. Me and El, right braddah?”
He looked at me. “Yeah, we’ll have just the one.”
I raised my cup, staring Liz square in the eyes.
Koa lifted his cup to give a toast, and we all followed suit. “Hau’Oli Maoli Oe.”
We all drank, and Liz made her cute as a button sour face again. Then she asked Koa, “What did your toast mean?”
He leaned into her, bumping his arm on hers. “It means happiness towards you.”
“Aw. Well, happiness towards you, too, Koa.” She looked around, admiring her environment. “Not that it’s hard to be happy here. What a setting, right?”
“We’re definitely living,” Koa said. “So, Liz, I have a question for you. Where did you get those guns? I mean, you must have hoisted yourself up at least ten of those rungs yourself.”
I tapped his arm. “I could say the same thing about you.”
“I don’t know. Seriously, don’t know if I could do that.”
Liz lit up. “I’m sure you could. And Jasmine, too. You guys surf. That’s hardcore upper body work.”
“Maybe… so, what’s your secret? Maybe it will give me an edge.”
“Well, for one, my arms are my legs. So that’s obvious. But two, I’m really into fitness. I was actually just telling El about one lady I trained with. The first one to kick my ass was a Marine. And I got bitten by the bug at that point. I lift a lot…”
“Liz has a fitness app,” I interrupted, immediately feeling like a stalker who knew too much. Because she had never told me that. I knew it from her website.
Liz glanced over and smiled. A gentle, closed-mouth smile that asked me how I knew. But of course I knew. Her Instagram page was basically her website, advertising all she offered. It was right there on the home page… it wasn’t like I sniffed around.
Okay, I had.
“So you’re a trainer now?” Jasmine asked.
“Not really. The app is just a repository for workouts and weight lifting moves that have been modified for wheelchair users. And then I’ve built a community around that so if women want to find a trainer that gets how to train in a chair, we can connect them with someone in their local area.”
“Cool business,” Koa said.
“Thanks.”
“Also, Liz is an inspirational speaker,” Jasmine informed Koa.
“Motivational speaker…” Liz gave a nervous chuckle, suddenly looking bashful. She looked up at Koa. “But yeah… enough about me… what do yo—”
“No, wait.” Jasmine stopped her. “I want to know more about that because I think Koa could be a motivational speaker.”
“Nah…” he said.
“Seriously, brah, you could,” Jasmine said to him.
She turned back to Liz. “He has an amazing story. But anyway, how did you get into it?”
Liz wanted to wiggle out of the attention. But Jasmine’s determined eyes were like handcuffs and she could only exchange an answer for the key.
“It all snowballed, really,” Liz said. “I was working in medical engineering and doing my app on the side with the help of this Marine trainer woman. Then that gained momentum and I met Simone, randomly at an event. She got me into it, really. It’s her magic. She makes people think I have something interesting to say…”
“You need an agent!” Jasmine smacked Koa on the chest. “I’m getting Simone’s card. Anyway, so how does your speech go? Give us your speech. We want to feel that motivation, girl.”
Jasmine did her Jasmine thing. She tried to make Liz feel as home by putting her in the spotlight and trying to make her feel cared about. But Liz didn’t want the attention. She looked to the ground and I swear it wasn’t a red bulb making her cheeks flush. She shook her head while looking at the deck, and her hair flicked back and forth.
Finally she looked up at Jasmine, “It’s boring, really.”
“Girl! You can’t be boring if that’s your job. Simone told me you go all over the world speaking.”
“She bigs me up. She’s my agent. That’s her job.”
Koa piped up. “We really want to hear it. Seriously…”
“It’s just…” Liz peeked at me briefly, not long enough for us to lock eyes, but it only took an instant for me to know…
She looked up again at Jas. “It’s a bit weird because my speech involves El. At the beginning.”
“Fine. Okay, just give us the short version,” Jasmine said. “It will help us get to know you better.”
Liz sipped her drink. Then looked into the cup on her lap, lifted it back to her lips and downed the lot.
“Alright, so basically I talk about my life before the accident, because, actually I’m not sure if you guys know but I haven’t always disabled…”
Stab.
Twist.
Bleed.
Someone save me from this conversation…
“So I talk about before the accident and say a bit about what was going on in my life then…”
She deliberately held back details. She did it for me.
But what Liz didn’t know was that I’d already heard the speech. Her Ted Talk was online for the entire world to see. And you better believe I watched the whole damn thing. Every second of her telling the world that before her accident, her life was perfect.
The life she had with me was perfect. Yes, perfect. She used the word perfect. And then… it wasn’t…
“And then I talk about the accident and what it was like to go through recovery and the feelings I had. The difficulties of losing the ability to walk and learning how to have a new life.”
A new life. One without me. Because after the accident, I wasn’t perfect anymore. And I wasn’t even in that part of the speech. Even though I spent an entire year with Liz after the accident, helping her, moving to a better house with her, planning a wedding with her… Her Ted Talk didn’t mention me, not after Sedona. It was like I’d just up and left her. Like I’d abandoned her.
Koa and Jasmine nodded, listening, not even noticing my agitation.
“Then mostly, the presentation is about living a full, thriving, and sexy life despite a disability.”
“Oooooh? Sexy?” Jasmine asked.
“Yeah,” Liz continued, “I guess I didn’t want to just survive after the accident, you know? I wanted to feel sexy again. Love my body and feel all that again. There are a lot of speakers who talk about hope and fulfilled lives but not that many disabled women advocating to celebrate sexuality.”
A tight cramp formed in my stomach, and I tried to douse it by finishing my drink. But I’d need a lot more than one of these to do that. Annoyingly, the demonic knot in my stomach made its way up my esophagus and wanted to possess my vocal chords. I bit my tongue.
Don’t be a dick, El.
I wanted to defend myself. And make sure my friends knew I was there for her. That I supported her. That I was as perfect as I could be in a completely blemished and fucked situation. That I was a good guy.
But I said nothing. Thank God. Despite the demon knot pounding on my tongue to say something, I remained quiet. Jasmine and Koa’s faces were full
of admiration for Liz. They would admire her. Given that rose-tinted version of the Liz show.
Our story wasn’t pretty like that.
Our story didn’t even have an ending yet.
“I’ve seen your Ted Talk,” I blurted.
Damn that demon.
Liz’s head snapped around so fast I thought it might keep going and roll off into the night.
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
I don’t know if there was an actual lull in the music Clyde had put on in the background or if it was just me, but the world went completely quiet. Koa said nothing. Jasmine, nothing. It stunned Liz silent. And all eyes were on me. As if I shouldn’t have watched it.
“It was good,” I said.
“Thanks…” Liz replied.
“Only one thing I wondered…”
Don’t say it, El. Don’t ask her…
“Why…” The demon kept talking…
Liz grew stiff and sat up tall.
“Why didn’t you mention me? After Sedona? It was almost like we broke up after the accident. You made it sound like you did your whole recovery on your own.”
Koa and Jasmine’s eyes widened like when you’re watching a Jerry Springer episode and everything is normal, but the gory details finally drop.
“It’s not like that. I didn’t omit you, El,” Liz ran her fingers through her hair, smoothing some off her forehead, “But… you know… at the end of the day it’s a presentation about me. So, people come to hear about me.”
“Yeah but, you talked about me quite a bit in the first thirteen minutes.”
Thirteen minutes. Made me sound like I’d watched it a thousand times. I had. But I didn’t want her to know that.
“El… Don’t be upset. I wrote these presentations for dramatic impact.”
“I’m not upset. Why do you think I’m upset?”
“Brah,” Koa said, “Because you’ve crushed the cup.”
I looked down, the plastic silo cup caved in under the pressure of my hand, now nearly in a fist.
“El,” she said, putting her hand on my thigh, on my body. The girl had superpowers. Like she injected healing serum through some sort of magical osmosis. I calmed at her touch.
