When the water subsided, Zena sat up and found the surfers on the beach cheering her on. Zola and Alton were waving, and Zola screamed, “That’s my big sister!”
“You still have it,” Adan said.
Zena turned, and he was sitting on his board beside her in the water that had turned peaceful and soft.
“I guess you have it, too,” Zena said. “I saw you in the barrel.”
“I wasn’t in the barrel.”
“You reached for me!”
“Zena, I didn’t make it. I clucked out when I saw that barrel. I wiped out and recovered just in time to see you perform.”
“But I saw you.” Zena clearly recalled Adan in the water bubble beside her.
More waves came, and Zena and Adan practiced cross steps and cutbacks. They laughed at each other as they fell off their boards. Looked after each other when the big waves came rolling through. They were talking without talking. Communicating. And it felt old. Comfortable. Familiar.
Zena and Adan watched and cheered as Zola and Alton conquered the scrappers, short waves closer to the shore.
Though she was far away, Zena could see a determination in Zola’s stance on the board. Zola leaned forward, balancing her weight on her right knee as she spread her arms wide into a T to hold her balance on a dying wave beneath her board.
“Z! Look ahead!” Adan called, and hearing some sense of urgency in his voice, Zena snapped around to see a large wave, a big surf, headed their way. “Up!” Adan shouted. “Up!”
Zena popped to her feet in time to take off on the curl of the wave and ride the crest.
“Cowabunga!” she heard one of the shaggy long-haired Australian surfers nearby holler as he made his way through the wave.
Then she heard, “Swell!”—a surfer call meaning there would be waves of the same size and speed following right behind the one she was riding.
Zena steadied her toes on the edge of the board, found her balance and held her breath as the water caught the board and flipped her over.
She wanted to curse but there was no time. She was underwater. Sand kicked up from the floor and bubbles burst all around her. She could see other surfers and their boards seeking reconnection in the blue.
Zena found her board and tugged at her ankle leash to bring it to her.
“You okay?” Adan asked, out of breath when she came up.
“Yeah, that was a tough one! Total wipeout!” Zena replied through her own bated breath as she sat up on her board.
“You ain’t kidding.” Adan nodded to the mess of struggling surfers gasping for air and trying to get back into the lineup to await the next wave.
Suddenly, and for no reason, because Zena hadn’t surfed in months since her last vacation to Hawaii and seldom ever thought it, a word came to mind that shot fear through her body—the deep. This was the deepest part of a wave, the part near its peak where surfers were most often thrown wildly from their boards and accidents, sometimes tragic accidents, occurred in seconds.
There was an eerie quiet then. A damning calm.
“Zola?” Zena called, turning toward the direction of the swell that had passed them and gone toward the shore, where Zola and Alton were practicing.
Zena spotted the surfing instructor and scanned the water for Zola’s brown face. She found Alton, but he was staring out into the water blankly. She searched backward and forward between the shore and then the sea, and there was no Zola. “Zola?”
She could see Adan stand on his board and call out to Alton. She couldn’t make out what he was saying because she was already paddling toward the empty space where she’d last seen her sister.
She heard the lifeguard’s whistle blow and saw the instructor dive into the water.
A wild board popped up. But then no one followed.
“Zola!” Zena paddled faster, but she felt as if she wasn’t going anywhere and maybe she was moving backward. She wanted to break from the surfboard and swim, but removing the ankle strap would take too long.
She saw Adan swim past, and every dark thought she could ever imagine crept into her brain, leaving a sinking suspicion that something horrible was happening. “No! No!”
By the time Zena made it to shore, the lifeguards were pulling Zola’s limp body from the water.
Adan and Alton were racing behind them as they made their way to the sand, where a crowd had already gathered.
“My sister! My sister!” Zena screamed, and some surfer she didn’t know helped her pull the ankle strap off before she was free from her surfboard and could run to Zola’s side.
“Zola!” Zena pushed through the crowd of worried spectators and tried to get to Zola, but Adan stopped her.
“Wait!” he ordered Zena with his face as alarmed as hers. “Let them help her!”
There, on the sand, surrounded by lifeguards, lay a lifeless Zola. To Zena, Zola looked as if she was six years old, a child she was supposed to be looking after.
“Wake up, Zola! Wake up! Please!” Zena cried, trying to break away from Adan’s hold as the crowd tightened.
One of the lifeguards straddled Zola and pressed heavily on her chest as another did mouth-to-mouth. Zena reached for Alton, who looked stunned, and grabbed his arm.
“You weren’t watching her! Why weren’t you watching her? You’re so irresponsible!” she screamed at him.
“I was watching her! It just happened. She fell off her board when the big wave came. It wasn’t my fault,” he said. “Maybe if you would’ve told her to stay out of the water, this wouldn’t have happened!”
Adan pulled them apart and said, “You two stop it! Zola is going to be fine.”
As if Zola had heard Adan’s command, water came sputtering out of her mouth. She gurgled and spat.
The crowd froze, and there was silence as they waited. This was a miracle in Bali.
Zola opened her eyes and looked around aimlessly. “Al-to,” she made out. “Al...”
“I’m here!” Zena cried before she realized who Zola was calling for.
Alton pushed past Zena and went to Zola’s side before she passed out again. “I’m here,” he said.
* * *
The lifeguards rushed Zola to the infirmary at one of the hotels across the street from the beach. While everyone spoke English and seemed to be trying to help, Zena felt as if no one could understand her questions, and quickly this once-beautiful place had become a paradoxical hell of rushing and then waiting for word about Zola’s condition.
Sitting outside of the one medical bed in the infirmary, where a petite nurse and off-duty vacationing doctor were meeting with Zola in private, Zena tried not to panic, but panic was all she felt.
“I don’t understand why we can’t just go to the hospital,” Zena complained to Alton and Adan, who were standing before her and working to keep her in the seat so she wouldn’t charge into the room to see Zola, as she’d done three times already.
“It’s too far and it’ll take too long for an ambulance to get here. Didn’t you see that traffic out there?” Adan replied. “We went over this. And Zola’s fine. She’s already awake and talking to the doctor.”
“But she could have internal bleeding, or something could be broken,” Zena went on.
“Zena, she is fine!” Alton said.
“Well, you’d better hope she is, because if she’s not—” Zena paused.
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” Alton asked.
“You know exactly what it means. What kind of husband are you going to be? You were supposed to be looking after her.”
“She’s not a child. I don’t need to look after her. She’s a grown woman,” Alton argued. “And I was the one who told her not to get in the water. Or did you forget that?”
The nurse opened the door. Zena, A
lton and Adan bum-rushed her, trying to get in to see Zola, but she announced that Zola was only ready to see one person and she’d requested Alton.
“But I’m blood. I’m next of kin here,” Zena said, using her official courtroom tone with the nurse, who looked bored with Zena’s comments and questions she’d endured since they’d rushed into the infirmary.
The nurse didn’t respond. She signaled for Alton to follow her after letting the doctor out of the room.
“Ridiculous and unprofessional!” Zena complained, pivoting from the closed doors with her arms folded over her chest to demonstrate her discontent. “We should really just go to the hospital. Who knows if these people are even qualified to take care of Zola?”
“Zena, again, the hospital is too far, and the doctor said she’s—” Adan was tired of comforting Zena’s demands now, too. He stopped his repetitious response. “Look, why don’t you do something? Like call your mother? Did you tell her what happened?”
“Call her for what? To tell her Zola fell off a surfboard and almost died?”
“She didn’t almost die. She just slipped and got pulled in by the undercurrent. Scary, but not uncommon.”
“You don’t understand. If something happens to Zola, I’m the one who’s responsible!” Zena cried, now hysterical. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be watching her! I’m always the one watching!” Zena began to cry fresh, new tears that let on that this was about more than the sister sitting up doing just fine in the other room.
Adan pulled Zena into his arms and pressed her head to his chest. “It’s all going to be fine,” he said tenderly. “Don’t worry. I’m here for you, baby.”
Zena snapped back and pushed Adan away.
“Baby? I’m not your baby!” she hollered. “And you know what? Really, this is all on you! You!”
“Me?”
“Yes! You were the one who made this whole thing happen! We shouldn’t even be here! Zola should be home in Atlanta studying for the Bar!”
“I thought you moved on from that, Zena.”
“Moved on? From what? You clearly haven’t moved on,” Zena said. “And that’s what this is all about.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Adan answered, walking away from Zena then, but she was right on his heels.
“How about I do. I know you’re just doing this whole wedding thing because you’re jealous!” Zena said.
“Jealous? Jealous of what?”
“Of me! And of Zola. That I was the one who made it, and now she was about to do the same. She was about to do what you couldn’t do for Alton!”
“That’s crazy. Look I’m excited about anything Zola does. She’s like my little sister. She’s like family.”
“But she’s not your family. We’re not a couple. You blew that!”
“I know I did, and I’m so sorry. Don’t you think that’s haunted me every day since we broke up?”
The door cracked open again, and all words stopped as Adan and Zena rushed over for news.
“Is she okay?” Adan asked as Alton walked out.
“She’s fine,” Alton confirmed. He looked at Zena. “She wants to see you now.”
Zena wiped her tears and walked into the room as if she expected to see Zola hooked up on life support and completely covered in a full-body cast.
Reality was the opposite.
The sun was shining through the window of what looked like a dorm room, and Zola was sitting up smiling as if she was just waking up and had never set foot on the beach.
“You have to be kidding me!” Zola joked, getting an eyeful of her sister’s countenance. “You’re crying? I thought I heard you out there hollering.”
She reached for Zena and hugged her before moving over so Zena could sit on the bed.
“How are you feeling?” Zena asked.
“I’m fine. I just lost my step, and then I felt the water pulling me back. I panicked,” Zola explained. “I probably shouldn’t have been in that water anyway.”
“You were fine. I saw you on the board. I was watching you. I really was,” Zena pleaded.
“You didn’t need to watch me, Z. What happened wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was a freak accident.”
“No, it wasn’t a freak accident. We shouldn’t be here. Look, I’ve been trying to accept this wedding and support you, but I shouldn’t have let you come here,” Zena said. “And I don’t know why Adan is supporting this, but it’s a mistake. It’s clearly a mistake. You shouldn’t be getting married. And maybe this is just a sign.”
Zola pursed her lips, and then her own tears began to fall.
“What? What’s wrong?” Zena asked. “Is it something I said? Because I’m just telling the truth. I’m not trying to hurt you. It’s for your own good—”
“No,” Zola cut in. “It’s not you. It’s me. It’s about what I haven’t told you.” She looked off at the sunlight coming through the window and exhaled. “There’s a reason Alton was nervous about me getting on the surfboard. It was ridiculous that he thought it would have any impact, but I know why he was scared. He was just looking out for me.”
“What are you talking about? Why was he scared?”
Zola looked at Zena.
“I had a miscarriage,” Zola said, the sad words slipping out of her mouth just one per second.
“What? When?” Zena placed her hand on Zola’s knee.
“A few days before graduation. I was just so stressed and worried about everything and I woke up one morning and...” She paused and looked into Zena’s eyes. “I lost my baby.”
“Did you know you were pregnant?”
“I suspected. But I didn’t even have any time to take the test. I think I was scared to know. I was terrified to know, because it meant everything was about to change. Everything I wanted was gone,” Zola said.
“That’s not true. And why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you call me or something?” Zena asked.
“The last thing you said to me before you left DC my first year of law school was that I shouldn’t get pregnant,” Zola said. “And there I was—pregnant.”
“You should’ve told me, Zola. I would’ve been there for you.”
“The funny thing is when I was at the hospital and I realized there was no way Alton could get to me, the only other person I wanted to call was you, but I just couldn’t. It would be like I was letting myself down by just saying it to you. So, I called the next best person.”
“Mommy?”
“No, Z. I called Adan.”
“What?”
“He actually left his job in New York and flew to DC. Six hours after I called, he was by my side.”
Zena jumped up from the bed and began pacing.
“You should’ve called me,” she protested.
“You’re not listening.”
“I am listening. And I’m telling you that you should’ve called me and not Adan!” Zena turned to Zola.
“No, you’re not listening. I’m trying to tell you something.”
“Tell me what?”
“Adan has always been there for me. He visited me in DC more than you. More than anyone else—other than Alton,” Zola revealed. “And when it was clear I needed help, like more help just to get through graduation, he paid for me to go to therapy. He was at my graduation, too. He sat alone, though...because he knew you’d be upset if you knew he was there. But he said he couldn’t stay away. He knew I needed him there.”
Zola got off the bed and went to stand before Zena.
“That’s what this wedding is about. Why Adan is supporting it. It has nothing to do with Alton. It’s about me. About me getting better,” Zola said.
“So you’ve been communicating with him all this time and not telling me?” Zena asked.
> “We all have. Me. Mommy. Malak. We just don’t tell you because we know how you’ll get. We know how you get about him,” Zola said. “I mean, you didn’t even go to Mrs. Pam’s funeral because he’d be there. After all she did for us, you—”
“I couldn’t!” Zena shouted, cutting Zola off.
“I know. And I understand. Going through this, I completely understand how hard it can be to move on sometimes,” Zola said. “And maybe it’s time for you to admit to yourself that you haven’t.”
“I have.”
“Just give him a chance.”
“I’ve moved on!”
“He deserves a chance.”
“For what?”
“You guys were just kids then. He was making the best decision he could. He thought he was doing the right thing,” Zola said. “And you know that.”
“What he thought doesn’t matter. What he did does.”
“He still loves you, Z,” Zola confessed.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Zola smirked at Zena’s uneasiness. “You asked if he mentioned wanting to take you on a date? I don’t remember that. But I do remember what he told me about you—about how he feels about you.”
“What?” Zena asked, and then she turned from her sister. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”
“He said he loves you. He still loves you, and he’d do anything to be back with you. I hope you give him that chance.”
Chapter 7
Zola stayed in Alton’s bed that night.
In the minivan on the way back to Mahatma House, Zena had watched Zola and Alton comforting each other, Zola resting her head on Alton’s shoulder, him kissing her forehead, and it was as if she was spying something new in them and really seeing their love for one another for the first time—their adult love for one another for the first time. They were no longer teens falling asleep on the phone together. They were grown folks whose love had been tested, been through some things, and there they were, still holding on to each other.
Dinner was endured in silence. No speeches. No tactics. They ate and let the ocean breeze play its melody of life moving on.
Under the Bali Moon Page 12
