As her breath moved in time with the waves, she listened to the voice of the man at the pina colada truck. It had a strong quality, but not overbearing. He was asking the vendor how he was doing, and what his life was like, seeming to be interested in the response.
In easy conversation, they joked about the changes in Baja, the decline of the number of fish, and the more frequent sightings of dead vaquita on the beach, caught in the gill nets of the over-eager fishermen. Her ears perked up at that, and she sat up, wanting to hear more.
As she turned toward the conversation, she realized the man she had been eavesdropping on was looking directly at her and she quickly looked the other way. Her cheeks flushed as she flipped over onto her stomach, her head still facing away to give her time to stop blushing.
His unusual amber eyes and wavy brown hair, a little long, were handsome, yes. But the way he carried himself, the way he spoke kindly and respectfully to the vendors, had caught her attention. His friend looked different, too, like they’d be more at home on the beach in San Diego than here in this sleepy fishing village.
He took a sip of his drink, and Cassie caught his eye over the rim of the pineapple. Horrified he’d caught her watching him, her hand betrayed her and shot up to give a little wave.
Wave? Really? Cassie groaned. She really was rusty with men. Trying to forget about the absurd wave, she walked down to the beach to take a swim, wading into the warm and inviting water. She did what her father had taught her to do in these waters and shuffled her feet to scare away any stingrays that might be lurking.
She had the fleeting thought she may look ridiculous, but sting-rays had stung enough of her friends on this beach it was non-negotiable. She took the precaution. Stingrays were plentiful here and came in with the high tide. She often saw the holes they had made to rest in as she walked the beach at low tide, after they had gone. Some holes were up to three feet wide, and they left indentations in the sand where their tails had been.
It was fascinating to her you could tell when it was time for the stingray young. Then, there were some huge holes, showing enormous stingrays in the area, and lots of much smaller ones surrounding them, some as small as eight inches in diameter. She knew for a fact they were here, so she shuffled, hoping she didn’t look too silly, adding insult to injury.
She surprised herself, moving with ease against the waves. It felt good to use her strong legs, and she savored every moment of being in the warm, clear water. She’d always been a strong swimmer, but it had been a long time. She’d spent most of the past few years on the shore or in the water on a panga, working on her vaquita plan.
Now waist-high in the water, she pushed off, swimming leisurely. Big waves were infrequent here on her beach, and she navigated the small ones today with ease. She was a strong swimmer and loved the feel of the warm water on her body. Swimming steadily, she could feel the tug of the tide pulling her with each wave.
As Cassie swam in the clear water, she saw something big glimmering on the sandy ocean floor. Amazing shells were common here, and she was an avid collector. She couldn’t stop herself, and diving to double check, she saw the telltale black-and-white pattern of a murex shell, a big one. It looked like it was intact, not like some others she’d collected on the shore that had been broken down by bouncing on the high tide line. This one hadn’t been beaten down by the tide and the rocks, and this was a great find.
She surfaced, took a deep breath and dove back down. She grabbed the shell and pushed off from the bottom toward the surface, her prize clutched tightly in her hands. She wanted to make sure it was an unoccupied, abandoned shell as soon as she could so as not to disturb its occupant, so she tried to touch bottom with her toes as soon as she thought she might be close enough.
She gained purchase on the soft sand and stood up. As she filled the shell with water before she looked at it, she drifted toward the beach. She peered inside, one eye shut, to see if there was anything squishy hiding from her somewhere deep in there. If there was, she’d have to leave the shell. Not negotiable, either. Only empty shells were fair game.
Shaking the shell next to her ear—something her brother had taught her to do, but she’d learned meant absolutely nothing—she moved closer to the beach, forgetting all about shuffling her feet to avoid the stingrays. Just as she looked up and realized how close she was to shore, reminding herself to shuffle, she realized that it was too late. She felt the barb before she saw the sting-ray scoot away, and pain instantly shot through her that felt like lightning, starting at her thigh. Her leg buckled, and she fell into the water, flashes of light before her eyes.
She yelled underwater at the shock, salty water filling her mouth. With a combination of anger and surprise, she clawed for the surface, trying to get to air. Her head broke the surface, but her leg was no use to her, and all she could do was flail, trying to balance on her one good leg as waves crashed against her, topping her again and again. Try as she might, every time she stood on one leg the next crashing wave bowled her over.
It didn’t help at all that she was furious with herself. She knew better. She should have been shuffling, and this had never happened to her before and shouldn’t have happened now. As she coughed, blinded by the intense pain, she struggled to stay afloat. She thrashed about in the water, trying to find her balance in both her body and her mind, but some part of her brain realized it was a losing battle. As she willed her body to be still, tendrils of blood wisped in the surrounding water, and she knew it was hers.
Dimly, she heard a voice from behind her. “Be as still as you can.”
She tried, but felt her leg pulsating with pain. An arm shot out and grabbed her around the waist, holding her head above water and moving along quickly. “Don’t fight the waves. Just try to breathe until I get you to shore,” she heard a man say.
It was all she could do to remain as limp as possible and let him pull her in with the waves. She felt herself sitting on sand, still in the water, as he said, “Stingray?”
She nodded as she coughed and pointed to her thigh. The man searched her legs and when he saw the barb, he said, “Look, there’s the pina colada truck again.”
Cassie thought he might be insane, but she managed to turn and look up the beach for the pina colada truck at the same time as another stabbing pain ripped through her thigh.
She gasped and turned to the man, who looked apologetic but held up the barb of the stingray he’d just pulled out of her muscle.
“Better to do it in the water. Sit here for a moment while you catch your breath and the water will pull out some of the venom.”
She struggled to get air into her lungs while getting water out as she nodded.
The man turned and sat down next to her. “I hope it was worth it,” he said slowly, humor in his voice.
She looked over at him as her breath steadied and slowed. Her leg was still in agony, and she couldn’t imagine what he might think was funny.
His eyes twinkling and his smile broad, he pointed to the murex shell clutched in her hands. She looked down at it, amazed. All of that, and she’d still kept the shell? She’d thought she’d dropped it long ago.
She couldn’t help but laugh, too.
“Oh, good grief.” She lifted it up and turned it around in the bright sunlight. “Yeah, maybe it was.”
“Well, you’re totally committed, I’ll say that for you,” he said as he stood and reached for her hand. He helped her up, but she wasn’t able to put any weight on her injured leg, and as she hopped on her other foot, more pain shot through her in pulsing waves.
She’d only hopped twice when suddenly, with a swoosh, Cassie felt herself being carried back to the beach chair by the man who’d been at the pina colada truck earlier, and she was grateful he was holding her as she didn’t think she could make it on her own.
As he set her carefully on the chair, Taylor arrived on the four-wheeler, skidding to a stop right before them. “Cassie, are you all right? I saw from the house you w
ere struggling in the water. What happened? Is that blood?”
Cassie still couldn’t speak, and the man directed Taylor to find some hydrogen peroxide and bandages as fast as she could, along with hot water. Normally, Taylor would have said something to the tune of, “Well, who the heck are you?” Mercifully, this time she didn’t.
She hopped on the four-wheeler and headed back to the house as fast as it would go. Cassie felt as if time had stopped completely, the pain searing her leg and feeling as if it were pulsing through her entire body. Taylor appeared with what the man had asked for. She pulled Cassie’s blonde hair away from her face and stroked her forehead with concern. “What the heck happened?” she asked the man, not taking her eyes off Cassie.
“A stingray got your friend. I already removed the barb, but we need to get it clean as quickly as possible. I’ll need you to get some sea water over here,” the man said, still holding Cassie’s leg and reminding her to breathe.
Taylor quickly grabbed the only thing handy to transport water, the pineapple holding the pina colada. She rinsed it best she could and scooped up the salt water and, running as fast as she could without spilling it, returned to Cassie, handing over the water.
It was obvious the man knew what he was doing, first soaking Cassie’s leg in salt water, then peroxide. He cut a bandage from the first aid kit Taylor had brought, pressing it against her thigh for a bit to stop the bleeding. As the pain began to fade, Cassie struggled to take in what had happened. She stared at her rescuer with gratitude.
“Who are you? How did you—how did you know how to do that?” Cassie stammered, still struggling through the fog in her head. With a gleaming smile, the man answered “I guess there hasn’t been time to introduce myself. My name is Alejandro. Alex, to my friends. I was in the Mexican Navy, where we learned emergency first aid.”
“It’s a good thing you were here. I wouldn’t have known what to do except what they did one time on Friends when one of them was stung by a jellyfish.”
Cassie, taking inventory of her senses, realized she had full use of her faculties again after the scare. Enough so, that is, to see Taylor standing behind the handsome stranger and give her a thumb’s up, accompanied by a huge smile.
“Oh, no,” she groaned. “I’m glad we didn’t have to do that.”
“Me, too,” another man said as he walked up to them with a first aid kit in his hands. “I saw you rush over and thought we might need this. But I see someone beat me.” He smiled at both Cassie and Taylor.
“And this is my friend Raul,” Alex said, and Raul shook Taylor’s hand with a big smile.
“I’m Taylor and this is Cassie, the wounded,” Taylor said and Raul laughed.
“Thanks a lot. Not a title I want,” Cassie said as she turned her gaze from her friend and onto the man who was gently tending her wound. Up close now, she looked at him more intently. About six feet tall, his wavy brown hair tumbled over his forehead, almost covering his amber eyes as he bent over Cassie with care.
Once again, he caught her eye as she looked up. He smiled and looked at her kindly. “I’m glad I was here. Right place at the right time,” he said, with a tiny hint of a Spanish accent.
“I will need to clean the wound better, with more peroxide. And you really need to soak it in hot water for at least thirty minutes, preferably ninety,” Alex added with a look of concern toward Cassie’s red and swollen leg. “How are you doing? Are you breathing all right?”
Cassie turned her full attention to her rescuer and confirmed that, although the sting still hurt, her breathing was fine.
Alex was methodical and gentle as he cleaned the gouge on her leg. Cassie was pretty good with blood and all things medical, but she felt herself starting to get dizzy as the pain increased. She grabbed the sides of the chair, squeezing so hard her knuckles turned white.
“Hey, you’re hurting her,” Taylor said, jumping over to Cassie’s side and grabbing her hand. “Here, Cass, grab onto my hand and squeeze. I can take it.”
“I’m sorry, ladies, but it has to be done,” Alex said, continuing on with his work. “If I don’t do this, it will be a lot worse before it gets better.”
“It’s okay, Taylor, I can take it,” Cassie said, meekly for her. She was usually so strong, but this was a level of pain she had never experienced before.
Alex smiled, too.
“I’m fine, really. You don’t have to do that,” she said, shaking off her thoughts.
“You’re not fine. Not quite yet,” he said firmly.
Slowly, he turned her leg this way and that, checking to make sure he had cleaned the wound thoroughly. Taylor held her hand the entire time, which seemed to Cassie to take days, not minutes. She let herself squeeze Taylor’s hand when it hurt the most, remembering Taylor had performed this service for her own mother when she was in chemotherapy, having blood drawn almost every day. Her mom had been afraid of needles and Taylor stepped up to the challenge of comfort and providing broad shoulders. Cassie was grateful to have her best friend with her while she did everything she could to stay calm.
As Alex finished up, Cassie felt the blood returning to her head. She could sit up, finally, and was curious to see the red gouge in her thigh. Instinct caused her to reach out to touch it, and he grabbed her hand midway to her thigh. “Don’t. We need to bandage it properly to make sure it stays as clean as possible,” he said, looking over the wound seriously.
Alex, surveying his handiwork, seemed satisfied. “I’m pretty sure we got everything out that needed to come out. I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly.” He seemed genuinely concerned he hadn’t hurt her too much.
Cassie looked at her leg, up at him, and back to her leg. She seemed unable to form a sentence.
“Uh, she—we—are really grateful. I’m sure it’s fine,” Taylor said, chiming in as her friend didn’t respond. With a quizzical look at Cassie, she said, “I don’t know how she would have made it to shore if you hadn’t been right there.” Cassie gave her friend a grateful glance for filling the dead air. Taylor winked at Cassie, and said to Alex, “So now what do we do, Captain?”
Alex smiled at the term, and quickly replied, “I’m no captain. Just a lucky guy with some skills that came in handy. And I would never pass up an opportunity to save a damsel in distress,” he said with a grin. So, he’s humble, too, thought Cassie, and funny.
“We should probably get you back to your house now, and out of this sun.” Alex looked up the beach toward the houses on the cliff. “Where, exactly, is that?” he asked, sounding a little puzzled.
Cassie was glad Taylor had had the presence of mind during all the drama to switch the quad for the jeep permanently stored in Cassie’s parents’ garage. It wouldn’t be the first time the car had gotten them home safely during an adventure. “We can take the jeep,” Taylor said, tilting her head in the direction of the four-wheel drive vehicle. “It’s the house right up there, just around the bend,” she said, pointing out the brick house with the arches standing on the cliff. “You have to go up to it from the back, but it’s easy. I’ll show you.”
Raul helped Taylor pick up all the supplies and hustled over to the jeep, placing everything in the back. She opened both of the front doors for Alex and waited for them to join her for the ride up to the house.
“I’ll follow,” Raul said as he hopped into a red Jeep.
Cassie braced herself to stand, hoping she could hobble over to the Jeep without falling flat in the sand. She gasped when, rather than let her get up and try her weight on her leg, Alex swept her up into his arms, carefully avoiding the wound. He set Cassie in the passenger seat, taking great care not to let her leg brush against anything that would hurt her in any way. Cassie melted into the seat, once again grateful for friends, new and old.
Six
“I’ll sit in the back,” Taylor said. “You drive, Alex, and I’ll show you where to go.”
He hopped into the jeep and turned the engine over. With great skill, he travele
d through the deep sand, avoiding any big dips or bumps. The short ride to the house was as gentle as it could have been, given the size of the sand dunes and the need for 4-wheel drive.
Pulling up to the house, he switched off the ignition, turned to Taylor and said, “Can you get some more bandages?” To Cassie, he said, “Stay put.”
He came around to the passenger side of the car, retrieving Cassie once again, and carried her inside. He scanned the house and walked into the bedroom, bending slowly as he placed her on the bed. He stood nearby while they waited for Taylor, Raul and the supplies, glancing at his surroundings.
“How are you feeling?” he asked cautiously.
“I think it’s getting better,” she said, amazed her tongue was no longer glued to the roof of her mouth. “You did a wonderful job. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
“Thanks for letting me out of the jeep, Tarzan. I had to crawl over the seats and out the window,” Taylor said, with a gleam in her eye. “Not sure I would have made it without Raul. Guess you were in a hurry.”
“Oh, sorry about that. I was in a hurry to get your friend comfortable,” he said.
“I’m so sorry for all the trouble. I can’t believe that this happened—I know better. I should have been shuffling.”
Alex was still looking at her steadily. Cassie wondered what he was thinking, but didn’t have the courage to ask.
“I can’t believe you didn’t shuffle. Your mother would have a fit. For that matter, my mother would, too,” Taylor said, shaking her finger at her friend.
Taylor set the supplies on the nightstand, breaking the hush hanging over the room. Neither Cassie nor Alex noticed she had brought in the pineapple, too, that had saved the day. She did notice, however, a commotion out in the living room heading her way.
In a flash, a big black ball had bounded past Alex and jumped on the bed. Cassie screeched as Taylor leapt toward the bed, grabbing at the dog with one hand and the lamp with the other. “Whiskers, no!” Taylor shouted and she steered the panting dog onto the floor.
As Deep as the Ocean Page 3
