“Give her some space,” Hunt said, touching my wrist when I attempted to follow her out. He was right. There was nothing I could do.
Amelie needed to see her sister, two years ago. She needed to see her sister escape out of that truck along with her, Pearl’s smaller hand in hers as they ran for freedom.
Amelie didn’t need space. She needed a time machine.
Dear Mom,
I’m writing you from the rooftop of our hotel in Cambodia. It’s about to rain, the air is thick with it, and I needed some time to myself. Remember when I used to sit on the roof at home? Well. This is my little piece of home here in Cambodia.
It’s been a crazy trip.
Life at home seems a million miles away both literally and figuratively. We helped some girls, which I’m happy about, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. It feels like we’ve only cracked the surface and what’s underneath is insurmountable in its challenges.
I don’t want to go back to California yet.
I’m not ready.
After I finish my job here, I’ve been invited to go to Australia with Deni. Yes. That Deni. My Deni from Indonesia, remember the sea turtle farewell on the shores of Aceh? That Deni. I don’t know why I’m writing to you like you’re under the sea and can’t quite understand me, but you’re a blurred image in my mind now. I see you floating, floating farther and farther away from me. But now that I’m older, people see you in me, and I love that. It’s like you’re still here, still alive, through me. And I want to make you proud. I want to do more work. I still have two months left of summer, and I want to see what else I can do.
And Deni. Well. That’s complicated.
I found him again, Mom. He found me—or maybe we found each other—but I need to be with him. I know that now. If I have a chance to be with him, I have to take it. He understands me without me having to explain a single thing to him.
He gets me.
You know how rare that is? Yes, of course you do.
Anyway. I wanted to let you know I’ll be down under, putting shrimp on the barbie or whatever it is they do there. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but I know you’ll be right along with me, watching over me, and making me be the best version of myself. When people say I remind them of you, it’s the best compliment I could ever receive. Thanks, Mom. Thanks for everything.
I folded the letter into a tight tiny square and shoved it deep into my pocket.
“There you are,” Deni said, walking through the roof entrance door.
“Here I am,” I said.
He sat beside me on the warm tar and took my hand in his.
“Any new word down there?”
“They found them,” Deni said.
I jumped up. “Who? Pearl?”
“A group of girls. They do not know if one is Pearl.”
We sat in quiet for a second, the weight sinking in.
“They are on their way,” he added.
We sat quietly on the rooftop until the rain came.
Chapter Thirty-Two
We weren’t allowed to enter the clinic to see the girls, so we waited at the hotel. Amelie returned, a total, pacing wreck, her face caked with dried tears—I didn’t blame her.
If something happened to Maximilian, if he was kidnapped by someone and forced into an underground world of horror, I’d go crazy with worry.
Deni and I sat quietly on the sofa, waiting. Amelie finally approached us, pulling a chair in front of me, and with her elbows on her knees, said in her insistent voice, “Sienna, I need you to talk to Hunt.”
“Hunt? What about?”
“We’re going to Australia. Me and Pearl. She’s going to need a new landscape, and I’m done with Cambodia. I’m going home.”
Well, that changed things. I waited for her to explain further.
“They own a big house, Hunt does his swim therapy, and I think that will be good for Pearl. Just a change of scenery, you know? She’s going to be so…” She waved her hand through the air, her green eyes filled with rage, regret, uncertainty. “Plus, they have better access to health care, you know, and she’s going to need it.”
“For sure. Are you going to tell your mom you found her?”
“My mom.” She sighed. “Yes. Once I’m gone, once we’re safe, I will let her know, or have Hunt let her know, but I’m not going to give her the opportunity to take her back and lose her again.” She pounded her open palm with her small fist. “I heard Chhim’s plans for the other girls: send them back and hope for the best that they aren’t taken again. That’s not a risk I’m willing to take with my sister. I will not fail her twice.”
I swallowed back tears, watching them swell in Amelie’s.
“I understand completely. I’ll do whatever you need me to do,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Talk to Hunt, whatever.”
And Australia?
This had to be more than just a coincidence.
The afternoon was rough.
I wasn’t there to witness firsthand, but they had a tearful reunion, the two sisters.
Pearl was pretty bad off, so she would need to stay at the clinic for a couple weeks.
Amelie remained dead set on taking her to Australia. Hunt agreed it was the right thing to do. We both talked to him, and then Dr. Chhim agreed it was the best choice for care. They could take her to Sydney first, to a hospital and rehab center.
“Deni.” I grabbed his hand when we had a quiet moment. “Australia?”
He nodded. “It seems…like what? Fate?”
“Yeah. Now we’ll know people there. And we can be there to support Amelie and Pearl.”
“I agree. It feels meant to be.”
My pink hair was getting paler by the day, the color shifting from bubblegum, to rose, to a pale pearl you might find in a nail polish shade for a bridesmaid. The daily chlorine in the pool probably. One of the girls asked me why I dyed my hair pink.
Maybe I wanted change, but I didn’t want to do anything permanent to change my life, or maybe I wanted change all along and just didn’t do anything about it. Or wouldn’t. Or couldn’t?
Was I afraid to do anything to make things better, brighter, different? It was amazing how far people would go to not rock the boat, fear of adjusting one’s own sails—even if it means ultimately a happier life later, it’s too scary to risk the unknown.
All those what-ifs waiting on the other side of the door.
What if I risked everything and it was worse, not better?
It harkened my favorite quote from Romeo and Juliet. It wasn’t one of the romantic lines between Romeo and his beloved, but a hefty dose of foreshadowing—a warning of sorts from best friend to best friend:
But he that hath the steerage of my course,
Direct my sail.
Deni, freshly showered and smelling like the hotel soap, knocked on my door to collect me for dinner. It was a scent I would always remember, marking this exact time in our lives. I clung to it like rain on a rice paddy, for a moment wishing the wet season wouldn’t have to end.
“What a day,” I said to him.
The emotion of it. The levity weighed heavily on my chest, like the heat.
How could we live alone in a foreign country?
How could Pearl adjust to real life again?
Adjust your sail, I reminded myself. All of life is adjusting your sails.
Deni seemed to understand that, and implement it. For me, change was a little harder.
“What do you think about Hunt and Amelie and Pearl also heading to Australia?” I asked him. “Did you want it to be just the two of us?”
He cupped my face in his hands. “Sienna, I need only you. We can be with thousands of people or alone, it makes no difference to me.”
He meant it.
“Oh, Deni,” I said, pulling him into a hug, breathing into his soft neck. “You make me so happy,” I whispered into his ear after a long moment of quiet.
Grinning, he squeezed me close to him.
�
��Terimah kasih,” I said.
“For what?”
“For waiting,” I answered. I pulled back and, holding his hands, looked him in the eye. “For hurting like I hurt. For finding me again. I…didn’t think you would. Or could. You believed when I didn’t. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’m eternally, forever grateful.”
“Anda menyembuhkan hatiku,” he said, in a voice low and throaty and full of everything he felt, the same things I felt, too.
“What does that mean?”
“You healed my heart,” he said. Touching my palm to his chest.
Inside my chest, my own heart clenched.
“Same. And now we have to help Pearl.”
He nodded. He knew.
We were the same, Deni and me.
Amelie, too. The swimming girls. Floating. Learning. Lost and found.
“Never stop swimming,” I reminded us both.
We not only got our sequel, but we got our happy ending, too.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Two weeks later, after poor Pearl battled her tough drug detox and was finally cleared for travel, our group landed at the Sydney airport and it was Western Shock on a Stick—in a good way. Instead of petite Cambodians dashing about in a language I didn’t understand, it was melting-pot Sydney: clear blue skies and people dressed like they did back home in California—shorts, T-shirts, tank tops, flip-flops.
I almost kissed the gross airport floor, everything felt so deliciously familiar.
Everyone spoke English. Not just English but Australian-accented English, which was now my favorite English (outside of Prince Harry’s English maybe), and I was thrilled to be there.
“Hallelujah!” I hollered.
“Welcome to Australia,” Hunt said in his familiar drawl. He had a big ol’ grin on his face. “How you all feeling? Want a bite of grub first?”
“Sure, but maybe we should get something for the road?” I glanced down at Pearl who looked like the girls on their first day of swim lessons, only worse. “We should take care of Pearl.”
Hunt’s jaw set. He nodded.
Amelie’s arms were wrapped around her sister as she repeatedly whispered in her ear. Pearl was surprisingly tough facing all this. She was so thin and quiet. But otherwise looked a lot like Amelie. It hurt to look at her; I could only imagine how Amelie felt. But Amelie was on a mission to fix her sister. She channeled the guilt of leaving her into the challenging project of rehabilitating her.
Hunt knew the people who ran a drug treatment center in Sydney.
Hunt and Amelie would head there first and check-in Pearl for her support and rehab. Amelie insisted on staying nearby to visit her, and Hunt agreed to stay too to support Amelie. We’d meet up later.
Parting ways made sense: me and Deni one way, Hunt and Amelie and Pearl the other. Still, saying goodbye was hard. I wanted to hug Pearl, but she didn’t want to be touched, and besides, she barely knew me. Instead, I clung to Amelie and whispered in her ear, “You got this, girl. Just keep swimming.”
“Thank you,” she said. “Now get out of here and have a happy life with that lucky guy.”
I nodded and tapped her shark tattoo with my finger. “I need one, too.”
That earned me a grin. “You definitely do,” she said. “A dolphin maybe?”
“No,” I said, knowing instantly what ink I wanted. “A sea turtle.”
We held eyes and said goodbye, kissing each other on both cheeks. Promising to catch up down the road, once her sister was better.
Once she could breathe again.
I exhaled, realizing I was holding my breath in Cambodia, and now back in a more familiar place, I let it all go.
“You okay?” Deni asked me as we watched Amelie walk away.
“I will be, yeah.”
Hand in hand, we found ourselves on Bondi Beach.
I changed clothes in the airport and wore a sundress and flip-flops. I bought Deni a surf T-shirt and new shorts and sandals.
We both looked like we could be from anywhere, just another couple holding hands.
“Yeah. That was sad, though, saying goodbye.”
“Goodbyes are, what do you say, suck?”
“Yes.” I grinned. “They do. Good thing our days of saying goodbye are over. That’s one goodbye I’m done with forever, right?” I said, needing assurance.
He held me, kissing the top of my head. “Forever. Right.”
We walked along quietly for a minute soaking in the sun, the scape. The simple beauty of the bustling cheerful setting so different than the oppressive heat of Asia.
“Maybe after we visit Hunt and get Amelie settled and meet her grandparents, maybe after we snorkel the Great Barrier Reef and see some of the outback, maybe we should hit up Bali?” Maybe if Deni could sell his documentary, a studio would pick it up? Then we could have some real money to travel. “You know you have a natural eye for film. I’m not just saying that.”
“Thank you,” he said modestly. “But I know nothing about what? The festival circuit?”
“Well. We can figure that all out.”
We.
He had a natural eye, an artist’s eye. He showed me the footage from Cambodia while he was editing on the airplane—some history about the terrible sex trade, scenes from the clinic, and what we were doing to help. Next, scenes from swim lessons and an interview with Hunt and Dr. Chhim juxtaposed with some history of the great country, mainly what the Cambodian people were like before Pol Pot dynamiting the temples in the 70s left Angkor Watt in further ruin. War twists everything leaving the next generation floundering.
Crazy how something so horrible (surviving the tsunami) could transpire into something so inspiring (making films).
“Your new footage is good enough for a big film festival,” I told him as we talked. “It really is.”
“You think?” He looked proud and pleased.
“Yes. For sure. Sundance, maybe? San Jose has a good one, too. You should submit once you’re done editing.”
“Good idea,” he said.
“Are you going to film here?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, then smiled that Deni smile. “If inspiration strikes. Hey, that is the famous bridge.” He pointed out the iconic bridge and Opera House.
“I hear they have fruit bats here, too,” I said. “Swarms of them. You can stand under them. Like at the temple, maybe we will get bitten and turned into vampires.”
“Where’s that?”
“The botanical gardens I think? Vera mentioned it in an email.”
“Vera turned out to be not so bad, yes?”
Reluctantly I agreed. “Yeah. She’s not so bad. It was just the change that took getting used to.” Facing the world as an adult was scary, but also exciting. “It feels nice to be here with you without having the cavalry called on us.”
“Cavalry?”
“Oh, like World War II reference, horses, soldiers, coming after us. It was a joke my dad made after I got home about rushing to Aceh to retrieve me from your controversial arms.” I dipped back like a damsel in distress and Deni mock-rescued me.
“Hey, there’s some bathrooms. Let’s change and hit the ocean.”
He frowned. “The ocean?”
“Come on.” I tugged on his wrist. “It’ll be fun. I promise.”
I quickly changed into my bikini in a public bathroom, he changed in the men’s, and we headed down to the shore.
I couldn’t wait to dip my toes in.
“This is so exciting!” I said, giddy. “I heard the temperature is like Hawaii, or Southern California,” I grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s go…”
He held back, sticking his feet in the sand. “I’m good here,” he said.
“Deni…” I grabbed his hand tighter and tugged. “Come on.”
I pulled him in.
“Ooh, cooler than I thought! It is their winter here I guess, but still much warmer than San Miguel, which is wetsuit only in winter. Well, and summer too, most days. Let’s s
tay until summer, Deni. Until their summer.”
“We can stay as long as you’d like,” he said, smiling into the sunshine.
I’d never felt happier in my entire life.
We waded in ankle deep at first and then ventured out a little deeper. Around us, topless girls flailed about playing in the waves with their friends or boyfriends. Older ladies were topless, too. They looked so happy and free.
Deni looked at me with a playful question in his eyes and cocked his eyebrow.
“No way, man,” I answered before adding with a splash, “You wish!”
Laughing, he splashed back at me and then we were waist deep. I climbed onto his back, and he dipped me around in the cool, frothing waves.
I felt, perhaps for the first time in the history of our relationship, 100 percent carefree, just like other college students on vacation together. Not responsible for anyone but ourselves, the bright sun on our faces, not a cloud in sight, and an unplanned schedule of travel ahead of us.
Ahhh.
He shifted me around and carried me in his arms like a baby.
I dipped my hair back in the water and let it float around me as he gently rocked me back and forth.
“Little mermaid,” he murmured.
I opened one eye. “Still think I’m going to steal your soul?”
“You already have,” he answered back with a warm, saltwater kiss.
Did you love this Entangled Teen book? Check out more of our titles here!
Don’t miss another book by Heidi R. Kling. Sign up for the Entangled Teen newsletter here!
About the Book
Where the Sea Takes Me benefited from the gracious advice and opinions of many caring professionals and organizations working to improve human rights violations across the globe. Children and women are being trafficked around the world and it’s more prevalent in the U.S. than we’d like to think. Please do some research and watch for warning signs in your community. Speak up if you see anything out of the ordinary. It could save a life.
http://hopeforjustice.org/spot-the-signs/
Where the Sea Takes Me Page 19
