Her life was wonderful and she knew it. What disturbed her most when she thought about it was that she couldn’t remember when or where Ron asked her to marry him. And I have a damn near eidetic memory. How could that one very significant memory be missing? And if I asked him to marry me, why can’t I remember that either? While admitting to herself, because of that lapse, she couldn’t really be sure, but she thought she remembered everything else. Well, except for the last time I was surfing.
She clearly remembered meeting Ron while she was at school in Washington state working on her master’s degree. He attended the same university, although they never really crossed paths in any of their classes. She had seen him around, of course. It was hard to miss someone with his looks, especially considering his height. She smiled to herself. She never had issues dating men shorter than she was, but she had learned that the men sometimes did. Besides, it precluded her wearing heels unless she truly wanted to tower over the guy.
Their romance really started at the coffee shop where Ron worked. Near the end of the semester, he eventually dropped out of school. He thought he was smarter than his professors. Granted, he probably was, but there is a difference between smart and educated. She realized that and was surprised that he apparently didn’t. Besides the education, just having the degree was a flag to employers that you could buckle down and do the work, that you could finish what you started. When he told her he would be leaving in a few days to start a job he had lined up at a mine in Pennsylvania, she finally invited him to her place for dinner.
He brought two bottles of a nice red wine, apologizing that they were relatively inexpensive. Lexi assured him that they were fine, pointing out that she was a student, admitting that she usually drank two-buck chuck. She seduced him that night, wishing she had done so months earlier. He was amazing. Made them great coffee the next morning, too. He left that week anyway. They kept in touch with email and Skype. When she graduated a month later she accepted a job at a Philadelphia research facility and embarked on what almost immediately became a very busy, whirlwind of a life.
Her company provided tuition reimbursement for her work toward a doctorate at Carnegie Mellon. She wasn’t exactly stalking Ron but still, by car, they lived only a little more than an hour apart. That was far enough that she could only make time to see him on weekends. She smiled to herself, remembering. Weekends had been great.
Lexi talked with Ron’s mother several times over the next two years via Skype. Ron’s father died over a decade ago. Geena Samue was currently living in France with her boyfriend, a middle-aged man named Beldar Clorhone. Geena was remarkably young-looking for a woman in her mid-fifties, which she attributed to good genetics. Ron told Lexi privately he believed witchcraft was likely involved. She couldn’t tell whether or not he meant that seriously. He just smiled when she asked.
Beldar was an odd-looking bald man with high cheekbones and an unusually high, domed head. He told them that he grew up in Remulak, a small town in the Pyrenees Mountains of southern France. Ron met him in person once when he came out to Washington with Geena to visit. He told Lexi privately that Beldar was nice enough, although seemed to have a drinking problem. The man certainly consumed vast quantities of beer. He didn’t seem to get intoxicated though. He made Geena happy, and he was wealthy enough that they could travel around a lot, which his mother loved.
Early on in Lexi’s relationship with Ron, they took a long weekend in New York so Ron could meet Lexi’s father, Charlie Stevens. She loved her father dearly, but the man was still infuriatingly non-committal about what he did for a living. Her mother, Violet, died nearly twenty-three years ago. While in New York with Charlie, they managed to catch up with Geena and Beldar on Skype, enabling them to introduce Charlie to Ron’s mother. Everyone was cordial, even friendly, although Lexi noted her father eyeing Beldar suspiciously throughout the conversation. The only friction came when Charlie said, in response to one of Beldar’s unusual observations, “Beldar, I almost think you must be from another planet.”
Beldar took the comment with equanimity, shrugged and replied, “Sure, Charlie. And let me know when Elvis gets here.”
Later, when she was alone with Ron in her father’s guest room, Lexi apologized and said, “I don’t understand where that weird comment Dad made came from.”
Ron replied, “I wouldn’t worry about it, kiddo. Beldar shrugged it off. If he had been upset by it he would have said, ‘Mibs!’ I don’t know what it means and it’s usually pretty funny when he blurts it out, you can almost expect to hear a laugh track in the background, but he was OK with what Charlie said. Besides, it isn’t essential that your Dad and my Mom’s boyfriend get along. It’s just convenient if they do.”
Somewhat reassured, Lexi relaxed, not anticipating any future parental issues. “That’s true, lover.”
At that point in her ruminations on her perfectly normal life, the Captain came over the speaker, informing the passengers and cabin crew that they should be preparing for landing.
Chapter 21
Point Break
Lexi lay poised on her eight-foot three-inch Bushman board, watching the incoming swells over her shoulder. She was out just beyond the break, the area where the waves develop white caps and curl over. Laniakea boasts one of the best point breaks on Oahu’s North Shore. It delivers screamingly fast, right breaking waves, long rides and awesome barrels.
She would have loved to try Ehukai Beach Park and the Rock Pile break where the opening wave sequence of the original Hawaii Five-O was filmed. Maybe next time. She doubted her ability to handle waves that massive.
Laniakea, in addition to its reputation as a mecca for surfers, is even more well known as a haven for Oahu’s Honu sea turtles, earning it the nickname “Turtle Beach.” The Malama Na Honu volunteer organization, Hawaiian for “save the sea turtle,” monitors the beach to keep the hordes of tourists from disturbing the federally protected animals. Lexi remembered doing a science report on the turtles when she was in sixth grade. The Honu are frequently seen sunning themselves on the beach or feeding on the seaweed in the warm, shallow waters.
This time of year, due to the size and roughness of the winter swells, the Honu were largely absent. Her research didn’t cover where they wintered, but it was a good thing they had somewhere else to go, because this was when the surfers came out to play. Crashing into a Honu could be a calamity for human and turtle alike. Lexi was waiting for a ten to twelve-foot bomber. Surfing required patience. Still, at this time of year, on this beach, the big ones tended to come by with fair regularity.
The rails of her board were positioned parallel to the swells, her head turned toward the horizon. When she saw the wave she wanted, she counted the smaller waves ahead of it before rotating her Bushman to face the shore. As the last wave before the one she waited for rolled under her, she began paddling. Her wave began to crest and she felt the board begin sliding down its face. Gripping the rails, she raised herself to a hands and knees position on her board. After that came the hard part. Exploding her lean body upward from her hands, she rose onto the board, her feet shoulder-width apart and pointing toward the side rail, knees bent and shoulders rotated slightly toward the shore. She had the wave and it had her. It was incredibly exhilarating riding in the barrel of a wave the size of a small house. She loved it.
Advanced surfers, she knew, had the skill to paddle right into the face of an oncoming wave while sitting on the board and then using their feet to turn a one-eighty to catch the wave. I’m not there yet, but soon. Even Ron, who has been doing this much longer than I have, only got it right some of the time. She noticed a couple of hot guys doing exactly that and decided to find an opportunity to meet them. Just maybe she could collect some tips.
***
She found her opportunity on the third day of their vacation. Lexi started a conversation with the two guys she had seen around on the beach, both of whom where top-shelf surfers. They were pleasant, personable characters, the kind who
are easy to talk to. The four of them decided to have lunch together at the Cardin’s Paradise Café, one of many small dining places overlooking the beach. They managed to get a table on the balcony with a wonderful view of the breaking waves. “How long have you been surfing, Bodhi?” Ron asked.
“Seems like most of my life,” Bodhi replied. “I love the challenge. The danger, too. Catch the right wave and it’s 100% pure adrenaline. What about you two? I’ve noticed both of you out there.” He laughed. “It’s hard to miss someone your size, Ron, and I do believe Lexi may be one of the most beautiful creatures to ever mount a board. You’re both pretty damn good.”
“Since I was a kid,” Ron said, ignoring both the man’s compliments and the look he was giving Lexi. “Dad and Mom both loved surfing so I picked it up pretty early on. What about you Lexi?”
“Funny, I don’t know how to answer that,” Lexi responded, frowning. “When did you teach me?”
Ron laughed. “You’re dreaming, kiddo. When did I have time to teach you anything about surfing? I’m sure you were already surfing before I met you.” Turning to the other man at their table, Ron asked, “How about you, Johnny?”
Lexi turned to glance at Johnny Utah, a former Ohio State quarterback. He was certainly easy to look at. She was even comfortable describing him as “dreamy.” Actually both of the men are. Of course, that might be because he looks like Ron. Shorter, sure, and not quite as muscular; still, they could almost be brothers.
“I took it up quite recently,” he replied with a shrug and a damn sexy smile.
“He got good at it fast,” Bodhi said. “Very good and very fast. Quite an athlete, our Johnny is. And that’s despite dealing with an occasional bad knee. Mark my words, he’s the one. Even Morpheus, a sometime business associate of mine, says he’s the one. Of course, no telling what he’s referring to. Weird dude. Sometimes I wonder where he’s coming from. And damn, really, what kind of parent names their kid Morpheus?”
“Well,” Lexi remarked, “the Metamorphoses is a poem written by Ovid in something like eight AD. In the poem, Morpheus is the son of Sleep. He appears in dreams in human form. He shapes dreams and the creatures in them. Maybe his parents are into ancient Latin? Still, yeah, I agree with you, not a good name to saddle a child with.” With nothing more to say about unusual names, Lexi asked, “What do you do when you’re not in the water, Bodhi?”
He gave her his most charismatic smile. “I’m into other so-called extreme sports. I ski; I skydive; things like that. I love dancing; the dirtier the better.” He gave a small laugh, “I sometimes do impersonations in small venues. I do a great Ronald Reagan.” He laughed again. “I’ll tell you, though, my first love has always been surfing. I’ve been all over the world shopping the best waves. I’m hoping for a fifty-year storm to hit somewhere while I’m still young enough and strong enough to go up against it. I dream of the challenge.”
“They’re called fifty-year storms because storms that massive are rare. Do you have a death wish, Bodhi?” Lexi asked.
“No, sexy lady, I don’t. I have a live-life-to-the-fullest wish. My philosophy is that if you want the ultimate experience, you've got to be willing to risk paying the ultimate price. I don’t think it’s tragic if you die doing what you love.”
Lexi was about to argue that she didn’t agree with that philosophy, when Johnny said, “He’ll risk it.” He paused, looking at his friend. “And he won’t come back. Except as a ghost.”
Chapter 22
Designs by Klendin
In addition to as much surfing as they could fit in, the honeymooners did the normal touristy things. Neither of them had been to Hawaii before. “Touristy things” included sampling the many Hawaiian dishes offered by street vendors, visiting an active volcano, and shopping for souvenirs. The concierge at their hotel suggested they visit Designs by Klendin if they wanted to see some truly unique, one-of-a-kind, hand-crafted items.
The shop was owned and run by an old Italian woodcarver named Geppetto Klendin. A sign in his window proclaimed marionettes of the four hundred gods and goddesses, the Ka Lau of the ancient polytheistic Hawaiian religion, were to be found inside. Displayed prominently in the shop’s front window were Lono, Kāne, Kū and Kanaloa, the four most prominent of the Ka Lau pantheon.
Lexi was instantly intrigued by his fine, almost life-like puppets, especially those in a small section to the side of the shop with a sci-fi bent. The mechanical engineering that went into the articulated joints, the torso and the faces was literally amazing. He had a number of the Star Wars crew, including Darth Vader and, of course, C3PO. Ron watched with some amusement as he caught her scrutinizing Geppetto’s Cantina Collection.
Together, they tried to see how many in the collection they could recognize without reading the tags. A few of the characters looked strangely familiar to both of them, although neither could recall seeing them in the movie. When Lexi mentioned that to Geppetto, he winked and called her attention to his Prince of Borgol, a humanoid figure who, although made of carved wood the same as the others, looked as though he was made from chiseled rock due to the painstaking paint job all of his creations exhibited. Geppetto was obviously quite proud of him. A short six-limbed creature was presented as a Vankovian Ranger. It reminded her of a large spider. She decided to buy the Prince for her father. Ron couldn’t make up his mind as to whether or not he wanted to get his mother a marionette.
While Geppetto boxed and addressed her Prince of Borgol, Lexi said, “I’m fascinated by your work. The craftsmanship is plain amazing.”
“Thank you. If you’re interested,” Geppetto offered, “I’d be happy to show you what I’m working on now. In many ways, it is my most ambitious project yet.” They followed him into the back room of the small shop. Off to one side was a wooden boy. Noticing Ron walking over to examine the toy, Geppetto said, “That’s my son. Just ignore him. He didn’t turn out right.” He shook his head sadly. “He lies all of the time. He dreams of becoming real, but then, don’t we all? My newest project is over here.”
Ron followed his wife and the crazy man who had a wooden toy for a son to Geppetto’s large work table. Geppetto turned on the task light overhead. The puppet on the table was large, easily twice the size of any of the other marionettes in his shop. It was horrendous, with razor-sharp claws on the ends of its hands. It boasted an almost metallic-looking exoskeleton, glistening in the illumination from the overhead task light.
“Why is this one so much larger than the others?” Lexi asked.
Geppetto looked pleased by the question. “All of my creations are crafted to the same scale, Lexi. This is the seventeenth species of alien I’ve designed for my Cantina Collection. It is the size it is because it is the size it needs to be. Primarily I’m a woodcarver. This one required a lot more metalwork than most of my marionettes.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I’m much better with wood than metal. To construct what you see here, I had to run copper wire through a rolling mill to flatten it much like the way aluminum foil is made. I wasted quite a bit of the material before I got the technique of soldering it together right.”
He paused, shaking his head sadly. “This one might need to be destroyed someday. I’m not sure I’ll ever get it right.” He looked at the figure pensively. “Adding to the complexity, it has two elbows on each arm and two knees on each leg. I’ll admit I’m having trouble making it work as I envisioned.”
“I can see that it is amazingly complex,” Lexi said. “I imagine the flexibility of the long neck and the two, what would you call those, tentacles, was difficult to engineer as well.”
“Exactly right, my dear,” Geppetto answered, seemingly pleased by her observation. “The tentacles had to be just stiff enough not to sag while at the same time not so stiff they fight the puppeteer. The feet and hands all have an additional joint compared to yours or mine as well. That’s what made this monster so difficult to craft. It needs to be extremely fluid in motion which requires an extraordinary amount of in
novation in the design. And of course, with all of the joints, the neck, and the tentacles, it is going to require a master puppeteer with extraordinary skills to manipulate it. Perhaps more skill than I possess.”
“What are you going to cover it with?” Ron asked. He thought it looked like a brine shrimp.
“You mean a skin,” Geppetto replied, nodding. “It doesn’t have one.” He considered, and then added, “Well, that’s not exactly true as there is a skin of a sort under the exposed exoskeleton. I used pig leather for that in order to get the right subtleness and look I needed. I had a hard time coming up with the right combination of colors to dye it. I’ve almost finished the piece. I have a bit more work to do on the face and mouth. I still don’t have the hands and feet quite right either. But soon. Very soon.”
“What gave you the idea of building a monster like this?” Lexi asked.
Aeolus Investigations Set 2: Too Cool To Lose: The Continuing Evolution of Lexi Stevens Page 29
