by Rula Sinara
“I said I’m sorry. I’m just...bored.” There. Maybe if he claimed being bored, he wouldn’t be the boring one. Sara’s eyes lit up, then narrowed at him, like someone about to get involved in a conspiracy. He had definitely been reading too much Chase Falcon.
“Wanna do something fun, then? I know somewhere so quiet you can barely hear the ocean or anything else. And I know how to sneak in.”
That sounded dangerous. Mysterious. Totally badass.
“I don’t know...”
“Oh, come on. It’s not scary. You said you were bored.”
“I didn’t say I was scared. I’m totally game.”
“Good. Follow me.”
She took off at a slow jog and he followed. Running through the sand was so much harder than doing required laps on the track at his school for PE class. He pushed himself to keep up her pace. They ran alongside the dunes that separated the cottages from the beach but rather than taking any of the wood plank walkways that led to each house and the main road, they crouched through the tall grasses and reeds that danced in the ocean breeze.
“I thought we were supposed to stay off the fenced nesting areas,” Caden said.
“We’re not crossing the fencing. Besides, there aren’t going to be any turtle eggs this time of year. They just keep the main breeding areas undisturbed. Come on. Don’t be a chicken.”
“Where are we headed?”
“Right there.” She pointed up at the Turtleback Lighthouse.
He wasn’t a chicken. His face heated and he bypassed her, jogging straight for the lighthouse, but coming to a dead stop when he hit a marked off area with signs that said Private Property and No Trespassing.
There was a massive clearing with a small house to the left, closer to the road, and the lighthouse off to the right on the ocean side. The pillar towered above them with black and white diagonal stripes winding up into the sky, ending with a lookout. The base was surrounded with thick stone walls and a massive door with iron trim. Sara caught up to him and crouched down, pulling him behind a clump of grass. A startled bird took off from behind them, scaring the bejeebers out of him, but he tried to make it look like he was just catching his breath.
“That’s the ranger cottage. Dr. Zale, the vet you met, used to live there. He still owns it, but he and Miss Mandi moved into her grandmother’s house after they inherited it and got married. That place down there.” She pointed to a white, two-story cottage with Victorian trim and a turret farther down the beach.
“It says no trespassing.”
“He won’t care. Besides, he’s at the clinic this time of day and Laddie would be at reading time over at Castaway Books. Plus, there’re only four days left to Christmas, not counting today. Everyone is working or getting last minute holiday shopping done. The coast is clear.”
Caden knew right from wrong. His family had always drilled it into him. He knew better. But doing the right thing didn’t always pay off, did it? He prayed and did everything he could to help around the house so that his mom could rest and made good grades so that she wouldn’t be stressed about his schooling—he’d read that stress reduced a person’s immune system—but she had died anyway. If he had learned anything from that, it was that life was short. If he was going to have fun or prove himself, there was no point in waiting or second-guessing everything. Following rules and doing what’s right all the time? It wasn’t worth it.
“Isn’t it kept locked?” he asked.
“I saw Miss Mandi get their extra emergency key once. It’s hidden behind the ranger cottage. Are you with me or what?”
“Yeah, I’m with.” He stayed crouched behind her as they retrieved the key from a hidden box, then scurried through the surrounding dunes and reeds until they were close enough to the lighthouse door to make a run for it. Sara had them inside in a jiffy and they slammed the door behind them and started laughing.
Caden had heard about adrenaline rushes, but he’d never experienced one. This had to be it. His pulse pounded and blood rushed and a strange euphoria coursed through him. They both leaned back against the whitewashed masonry walls to catch their breaths.
The air was damp and salty and all sorts of wonderful. Or maybe the wonderful part was being here with Sara and sensing that she’d forgiven the conch shell incident and was seeing firsthand just how not boring he was.
The floor was made of black and white tiles that were chipped in a few places and an iron staircase spiraled around the tower’s core, leading to the top.
“How many steps?”
“Two hundred and eight,” Sara said. “Can you do it?”
“Piece of cake.” He took a deep breath. His mile time at school was pitiful and he was feeling the ache in his thighs from running as far as they did through the sand. But no way was he going to fail now. Not in front of her. He knew adrenaline could make a person lift cars and all sorts of wack, superhuman stuff. He knew he wasn’t close to that level, but maybe he was just hyped enough to make it. He bolted up the steps. “Meet you at the top.”
“Hey, wait up!”
He could hear her climbing behind him, chasing him, but it only spurred him on. Something competitive and wild took over him. He took step after step, his lungs burning hotter and hotter with each one, the muscles in his legs stinging like the time he’d inadvertently picked a battle with a wasp while messing around in the yard. He held the railing to help hoist himself up, but he refused to stop.
Fifty. How many did she say there were? He counted and heaved as he went. The pain felt good in a twisted way. It was deserved. He deserved it for not being able to save his mother. For being angry at her for keeping his dad a secret. For not wanting to forgive her or his aunt.
One hundred. For not being cool at school. For hating himself for not being stronger. For life in general.
One-fifty. For hating Aunt Zuri for her role in all this and for not warning him about meeting his father. For having fun when it wasn’t right to be happy with his mom gone. He didn’t care if his therapist said it was okay to have fun and be happy...that his mom would want him to. Burning pain ate at him. Punishment for everything he was feeling.
Two hundred. Especially for...for actually liking his dad. Traitor.
He took the last couple of steps and collapsed at the landing. He rolled on his back and struggled to slow his breathing. But he’d made it. He made it to the top. He’d done something he didn’t think he could...something no one back at school would believe bookworm Caden could have done.
I knew you could do it, Caden. You’ve always had it in you. You’re more like your father than you’ll ever know.
He jolted up. He could have sworn he’d heard his mother’s voice. Her words were crystal clear. Was the lighthouse haunted? Or was it just high enough for him to skim heaven?
He looked around. The lookout was glass enclosed, giving him a panoramic view of the Outer Banks, from the Atlantic side in the east to the inland sound on the west and the expanse north and south of them. He could see the bed-and-breakfast, his dad’s place, the rescue station and the town. A flock of birds dove past him, flapping their winds like angels in flight. Mom? He blinked and shook away the notion.
Sara made it to the top and gave him an irritated look. What was that about? He’d just proven to her that he wasn’t a wimp. He thought she’d be impressed.
“You could have waited for me,” she huffed.
“I thought getting here was the point.”
“Getting here together. You took the fun out of it,” she said. “What’s with you today?”
“Nothing. Everything.” He was confused. He didn’t understand women.
“Yesterday and before that, you were being nice. Today, you’re being... I don’t know. Self-absorbed.”
“You’re kidding. Self-absorbed?”
“Yeah. I mean, I get that your mom passed away a fe
w months ago and I’m so sorry for that. I really am. But—”
“But what? I’m supposed to pretend that everything is chill because if I get down about life, it makes you uncomfortable? I shouldn’t be upset because it ruins everyone else’s day?”
“That’s not what I was about to say.”
“Then what?” he snapped. “You don’t know what it’s like to feel alone. To have your mom die and feel like no one else really wants you. To miss her. To feel like you’re drowning and not knowing if everything’s ever going to be okay.”
He was tired. The energy that had propelled him to the top was plummeting. His emotions were in free fall. He raked back his hair and looked outside the window—the only thing keeping him from soaring like those birds...from diving into the waters below...from reuniting with his mom. Stop. Just stop. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. He dried his cheek on his sleeve and swallowed hard to keep more tears from falling.
No, he didn’t want to join his mom. Maybe at one point after she’d died, he might have thought about it, but not anymore. He had been hating life, that was for sure, but the reality was that even if he hated therapy, some of the stuff he’d heard had stuck with him.
Focusing on hope and doing something to make a difference, like when he had donated his allowance to cancer research in his mother’s name. And the books he started reading...the Falcon series. It would sound stupid to others, but not only had the stories been an escape, the hero had also faced the impossible and always made it through. Falcon had faced death and had been tortured by the enemy, but he always persevered and made life better for it. That message had really stuck with Caden and had gotten him through some dark nights. As depressed as he could get, he didn’t really want to join his mom when it came down to it, because he knew he wasn’t really alone. He had Aunt Zuri and his grandparents. He knew they loved him and cared. He did have some teachers who cared and made him feel good, and a few friends at school, too. And now he had his dad and...and a friend in Sara, unless he’d blown it.
“Maybe you should stop with the self-pity,” Sara said, scattering his thoughts. “Maybe I do know what it’s like. You’re not the only person alive who has felt lost or like life was ruined. But I chose not to give up hope and to focus on all that was good and my life did get better and I’m grateful for that.”
Caden turned to face her. Tears streamed down her face, but she tipped her chin up and held her shoulders high.
“I don’t get it. You seem so happy all the time and you have your parents and your grandma and all the fun times you talk about.”
“Yes, I do. But it wasn’t always like that, Caden. I was adopted when I was eight. After both of my parents were killed in a crash. At least you still have your dad.”
With that, she headed back down the stairs. Alone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DAMON POURED A cup of coffee and took a scalding gulp. It was bitter. Kiko must have made it. She was great at water rescue, but awful at making coffee. She never made it unless she was the first one at the station this morning. He braved another sip, desperate for the caffeine, and set his mug aside.
He hardly slept last night. Spending the day on Roanoke with Zuri and Caden had him thinking about things he’d blocked for years...like the idea of ever having a family or kids. His parents hadn’t been a great example. Witnessing evil in the world while working as a SEAL hadn’t done much to make him want to have a family either. What if he couldn’t protect them? He wasn’t around for his brother, and Lucas’s death hadn’t even involved the kind of violence that ravaged the world. There were too many things in life—both man and nature related—that he couldn’t control.
But the fact was that he was now a father whether he’d expected or planned to be or not. And yesterday that fact managed to seed itself deep in his psyche. Walking with Zuri and having other families mistake them as a couple—as parents—had awakened something raw and primal in him.
And then Caden had called him “Dad” for the first time and Damon had crumbled inside. It had taken everything in him not to fall to his knees and take the boy in his arms right then and there, but he didn’t because he knew what it was like to be twelve and trying to figure himself out and prove himself to others. So, all he did was fist-bump the kid and gloss over the word instead, ushering them all to his truck for the ride home.
But that primal feeling? He wanted to protect his son...and Zuri. It was all he could think about last night. Knowing that he’d never be able to guarantee that no harm would ever come to them in life had kept him tossing and turning until he’d given up on sleep or even getting any work done in his office and sat with Duck watching documentaries instead.
He walked over to where Sanjay was reviewing weather forecast reports coming into their station and others along the coast.
“How’s it looking for Christmas?” he asked. He hadn’t shopped yet. He usually gave his team gift certificates, but he couldn’t imagine not getting gifts for Caden and Zuri. He had no clue what they’d want though. He had also seen a weather report on TV last night indicating a winter storm headed their way.
Sanjay spun around in his chair and made clicking noises with his pen—a habit Damon couldn’t stand. Damon snatched the pen from him.
“Someone didn’t get enough sleep,” Sanjay said.
“I slept fine. What’s the forecast?”
“Christmas still looks all right, but I think it’ll hit us by New Year’s. They say the pressure is dropping with the system and tracks are looking like it’ll come our way as opposed to making landfall further north. I’ll stay on it. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll stay far enough offshore.”
Depending on how bad it would be, Damon didn’t want Zuri or Caden on the road or on a plane headed north in the middle of bad weather. It wasn’t a hurricane, but the effects of any major storm hitting the Banks could be just as devastating. The barrier reef was narrow and prone to flooding, beach erosion and structural damage. The worst part was that folks could get stuck in heavy traffic on evacuation routes. It was effectively a one-way-in and one-way-out scenario for most of the reef.
People who lived here accepted the risk just like folks who lived in the Caribbean or Florida did when it came to hurricanes. It was a small price to pay for living in heaven, much like west coasters were willing to risk earthquakes and Hawaii had volcanoes on top of it all. Don’t even get him started on what climate change had done to make things worse. He’d seen the effects.
He was used to evacuations, as were the residents. They knew the protocol when a storm was headed their way. But Zuri didn’t. He needed to spend more time with them and didn’t want their trip ruined, but he absolutely didn’t want to put them at risk. He needed to keep a close eye on weather developments as Christmas approached.
“Let me know if you hear the forecast change,” he told Sanjay. “Kiko, Mark, keep an eye on the south beach. Brad and I will cover the north side. Make sure the red flags go up. We’re still days away, but the second that water gets rough, no surfing.”
“Got it,” Mark said.
There were always a few people who were drawn to the rough waves, even in winter, sometimes without common sense. Some people didn’t understand mortality. That or they had no respect for the power of the seas and nature.
During summers, they had plenty of college-aged lifeguards stationed along the Outer Banks beaches, but during the winter months, particularly on less crowded beaches like in this town, the Ocean Rescue and Beach Patrol team covered the terrain.
“Duck.”
His dog got off her bed and wagged her tail. She knew their schedule. She knew what was coming and craved getting out there. She wanted the water, the waves and the sand. She needed to swim.
She was a surfer dog. One who risked her life to save others. Just like a SEAL. Plus, she understood what it was like to come from a broken family. But s
he’d found a new one in Damon and learned to trust again. Maybe—just maybe—he’d found his, too. And not just with Caden, but Zuri.
He stepped outside and scanned the horizon. The wind kicked up a notch and filled his lungs. He’d braved rough waters before, figuratively and literally, so why did he feel like a coward when it came to Zuri or even parenthood? And why did he feel like he was standing at the edge of a storm that had nothing to do with the weather?
* * *
ZURI POPPED INTO The Saltwater Sweetery and just about melted on the spot. The aroma of freshly baked bread, pastries and taffy filled the place and the delectable display of different flavors of saltwater taffy drew her like a magnet. Holiday music played in the background and the woman behind the counter wore her blond hair in a thick braid and a headband with deer antlers on top of her head. She also had the tip of her nose colored red like Rudolf.
The place was busy. A few people sat at bistro tables and others waited in line then carried away boxes of goodies. Zuri looked over the flavors of taffy. A variety box would make a good gift to mail to her parents and colleagues at the lab. They’d make good stocking stuffers for Caden and Sara, too. Stockings. He didn’t have a stocking here in Turtleback. She’d planned on bringing his with them and hanging it in their room, but she had totally forgotten. How could she? Had he noticed? What if he thought she didn’t care enough?
She went to stand in line and waited her turn while checking emails on her phone. There was another from work. Why did her chest clench whenever she saw an email from work? She opened it up and started to read, but the chime for the bakery door and her name rang out at the same time. She had stood in coffee lines back home for a good ten minutes where everyone in line had their noses buried in their phones and no one paid attention to who was ahead of them or behind them and the cashier looked wiped out. Here, on the other hand, everyone ahead of her was chitchatting, the cashier was a bubbly Rudolf and within two minutes of getting in line she had someone she’d met only once giving her a hug.
