I will never be ready.
Making that decision, she fell asleep.
Chapter 12
Mishael was an exceptional swimmer. Celina had told her so and Toni was glad for it. The days were hot and the ocean relatively flat. In the early mornings there was an offshore breeze but the swell nonexistent. It couldn’t be better for what Toni had in mind for Mishael’s first few days on his surfboard. They didn’t need to go anywhere but right off the back deck, on to the beach and into the water. They did dawn patrol by getting down to the surf before sunrise. First up, Toni showed Mishael how to wax his board. For the morning routine she had him in the water paddling up the beach as Toni walked. She wore him out and afterward, they would return to the house for breakfast.
It was the following morning when Hugh went out with Mishael to swim before lunch while Toni and Rifta strategized. The Nelsons had given Toni specific directions in her folder. Her job that they verbalized as “a companion of sorts” included working as a team with Hugh but more specifically, with Rifta. Rifta’s duties were bodyguard, chauffeur and personal attendant. Toni’s job was more of a house-mother and surfing instructor but it also, included a personal protection clause.
Toni pointed out the assorted vulnerabilities of the beach house. Rifta had noticed these and was worried about the openness. They were both paranoid for different reasons but united in their concern for Mishael. Rifta was designated as the night guard. He was in the house and he would secure the premises at night. Toni an early riser would take the morning shift until noon. If Rifta needed to catch up on sleep the morning hours until noon was the time to do it.
Rifta laughed out loud at Toni’s .32 but she explained the lack of knockdown power was compensated in precision shooting. Rifta laughed again. He said, “You been in a fight where guys coming at you – guns going off and people yelling? Yes? No, I don’t think so.”
Toni conceded that she hadn’t but she held up her hand and asked him to put his up against hers. His fists were like 10 pound chickens and his forearm was larger than her thigh. When Rifta spread his hand, her fingertips were an inch and more shorter than his.
Looking at his handgun, she said, “Your Glock is a tool. I have had two in my lifetime but my hand is too small to make it an effective tool for me. I am not planning on stopping an army. I might have to evade an army but stop one, no I cannot do that and neither can you.”
Rifta had some other “tools” that his profession used to keep a client safe. After much talk, Toni told him her most effective weapon was her relationship with God.
Obviously condescending, Rifta smiled. “Yes, your God… I heard you talking at the Nelson’s but I did not hear your God answer.”
Now Toni smiled. She said, “If you knew my question to my God you would have seen Him answer but you did not know my question, Rifta as I was talking to Him and not to you.”
“Yes, but I listen. It’s foolishness, yes?” Rifta said as his lackluster eyes met hers. “Now be honest.”
Toni returned his stare and said, “Rifta, I was standing in the doorway asking God to give me favor with Hugh… I knew he did not want me coming with you. He was expecting a young man – not an old woman. You see, Rifta, my husband died last year and my bills began to overwhelm me. I asked God for a decent paying job and this is the one He provided.” Toni saw that Rifta was genuinely touched by her story. And then she said, “When I realized my job was in jeopardy, you overheard me asking God to intervene and change Hugh’s mind. And God did it... He answered my prayer. Here I am!”
A frown wrinkled his snow white brow. “What you say is true,” Rifta said. “Yes, Mishael’s cousin Hugh, he fire you but then, no. I don’t know.” Rifta shrugged as he recalled Hugh’s inexplicable change of mind.
Toni wanted to crow, “I do know! God heard and answered my prayer!”
Toni said instead, “I am going to church on Sunday. Why don’t you come with me?” Rifta was a tall thick man with his blonde hair cropped millimeters short. Originally, Toni had guessed wrongly that he was about her son, Dale’s age – 28 or maybe 30 years old. He was 22; the Bosnian war had stolen more than his childhood.
Rifta said nodding, “Okay… all right. I will go but Mishael goes too. We cannot leave him, no?”
She didn’t want Mishael to be left. Toni had spent almost 30 years laboring in God’s harvest, so no one would be left… left behind. That included, Mishael. Then Rifta said, “You pray your God, no? Ask Him. Yes, if He wants me to go, Mishael will go too.”
Toni wasn’t sure if Rifta was mocking her or maybe testing God. Perhaps, he knew Mishael’s thoughts on church already. She wasn’t certain and deciding to take a chance, she said, “Good idea!” Toni grabbed his huge hand and said, “We’ll both pray. Here they come.” Toni didn’t see Rifta’s astonishment as he stared at his hand held by hers because she closed her eyes and began talking to God.
Next, Toni jumped up and began pulling food from the refrigerator. Hugh went upstairs to shower and changed but Mishael came and sat down at the counter. Rifta, embarrassed by Toni’s bold behavior, went to his room before the others came in.
Mishael was drinking grape juice. He told Toni that the grape juice from D’Almata tasted much better and that it was one of the unexpected things he missed while being on tour.
Eventually, Toni worked the conversation to her planned weekly church routine. Mishael nodded. He said, “Yes, I know you people go sometimes every week. We practice our religion every week too unless the weather disrupts us but our gods understand.” Toni wanted to hear more about Mishael’s gods but she didn’t want to deflect from her goal at the moment.
Toni asked, “Will your gods understand if you accompany Rifta and me to the house of my God on Sunday morning?” Mishael looked up from his juice.
“Yes… I don’t know. Although I have been to other religious services before, I didn’t consider this question. Hugh will know if our gods will or won’t understand, I will ask him.” Mishael concluded with a nod.
Sunday morning arrived and at 10:35, the four of them were climbing out of the Mercedes to attend the Forecastle church.
It had been decided the night before that if Rifta was going then Mishael must go. After listening to Toni and considering her invitation, Hugh assured the prince, the gods would understand. Toni had been astonished to see Hugh dressed in an expensive business suit coming down the staircase as they prepared to leave that morning. She hurried over to him as Mishael and Rifta finished their coffee and eggs at the table.
Toni said quietly, “Hugh, I think you might be overdressed.” He hadn’t stepped off the last stair yet; his hand was on the banister. She hurried on, “I want you to feel comfortable at this church service this morning. May I suggest those elegant slacks you wore Friday night when we all went to Wilmington for dinner?” His eyebrows had lifted but they fell as he looked at his suit sleeve where her hand was resting. Toni took her hand away and smiled self-consciously.
Before turning to ascend the staircase, he said, “You look lovely but I can see you are not dressed as formally as I had supposed.”
They were going to be late, she decided.
The service was especially suitable for Toni’s companions or at least she thought so. The music, the sermon and the altarcall seemed tailor-made. They sat with Dianna and Ruth. Mishael looked genuinely interested. Rifta irreverently scanned the place and individuals although Toni thought he was listening. As for Hugh, she didn’t get a read on him until the service ended and people began preparing to leave. She glanced past Mishael and Rifta to see his reaction. Hugh was retrieving his sunglasses from the case and Toni saw tears in his eyes. She turned away before he noticed her staring.
Ruth was having a luncheon fellowship again. Would Toni and her friends like to come? Mishael wanted to go, making the unspoken vote unanimous. Hugh suggested stopping and getting something to take. Toni agreed. Mishael and Rifta waited in the car while Toni went into the grocer with Hugh. H
e wanted to buy a large, leafy plant but Toni said Ruth’s living space was small and his gift would take up half a room.
Flowers?
No, Ruth had plenty of flowers – wait and see, she told Hugh vetoing his suggestion.
Toni said, “Let’s take vanilla ice-cream. It’s hot outside and her house will be warm. Also, last week she served the most delicious berry cobbler and ice-cream would have made it all the better.”
“I think it’s like a pie, correct? Ice-cream sounds superior,” he agreed. He added, “Ice-cream, flowers, anything you like.” She went to get the ice-cream and Hugh met her at the front with a bouquet of sunflowers for the hostess.
Ruth had sunflowers growing along her back property line. “Those are lovely,” Toni told him and he nodded.
Mishael’s royal composure melted away when he saw not one but two cars with a surfboard strapped atop sitting in Ruth’s driveway when they pulled up. The Cliff’s were there and Billie’s friend, Rick Salerno. They went in and full introductions were made. Ruth could make a pork chop comfortable in a synagogue and in a way she did when the future king of D’Almata entered her modest clapboard home. But then, she didn’t know Mishael was a prince.
Eventually, Billie and Rick talked swells, boards and offshore winds to Mishael’s delight. Dianna had taken Rifta outside to show him Ruth’s garden and then the chicken coop behind the garage and finally, her bees. Rifta said he wanted to see them but Toni stayed inside in the relatively cool house; the air conditioners were running full tilt. Behind her at the kitchen table, she could hear Ruth speaking quietly to Hugh about the morning’s sermon. Toni was dishing up homemade cherry pie for everyone. She couldn’t quite catch the complete conversation but Toni did hear a phrase or word ever so often. She was taking her time cutting the pie. Hugh was asking questions. His gift of sunflowers spilled upward from an ancient blue glass Mason jar atop the windowsill above the metal radiator. Toni prayed under her breath.
The anticipatory atmosphere vanished when the backdoor opened. Dianna questioned noisily, “Are you still working on the pie? Here let me help. I’ll dish the ice-cream.” And then turning to Rifta before he could get away, Dianna said, “Get the forks from the drawer there and take these into the other room. Come back and we’ll have the others ready.” Toni looked over to Hugh and Ruth but the spell had been broken… The subject had changed; Ruth was thanking him for the flowers.
Merry called Toni that night to tell her it looked like there was going to be a swell in the morning. Toni told her that the surfers had said the same thing over lunch. In the morning Mishael and Toni would be in the water.
Since graduating from her brief but intensive course with Red at Silver’s Studios, Toni had redoubled her arm exercises. Like most women, her legs were stronger than her upper torso. Surfing required a lot of arm and upper chest-shoulder strength. Toni wasn’t planning on actually surfing although she would be in the water paddling about trying not to get scrounged by the incoming battery of waves. When she was a kid, Toni didn’t mind getting tossed about by the unrelenting surf. That playful aspect of ocean swimming had changed with her age.
After maneuvering into her swimming suit, Toni eyed herself critically in a full length mirror. She turned to get a side view. The exercising had firmed her and she certainly felt a lot more energized since she began her routine the summer before. She hadn’t donned a bathing suit in a decade and yet, she decided she looked “exceptional” for her age. And then she turned around… ! It wasn’t a pretty sight.
Walking and sprinting should have taken care of that, she thought. Hmmm, I think I found those 15 pounds I lost.
Toni pulled on a pair of board shorts to conceal the back forty. Swimsuit and shorts didn’t match but she didn’t care, she wasn’t going to change again.
The sun was at the horizon. The ocean sunrise was stunning when Mishael and Toni headed toward the water. There was a slight offshore breeze according to a small decorative banner fluttering on the back deck. The air was warm already but not as humid as it had been.
There was a small swell – less than three feet. It was the kind of perfect day that Toni hope for to work with Mishael. She didn’t foresee him getting up on his surfboard today but he might, she thought.
Toni had Mishael stretch and sprint up and back on the wet sand as she fast-walked. They got into the water, and then paddled out past the break without too much trouble.
Toni worked him for a couple of hours. Mishael was an agreeable student with dogged patience. Toni realized before they went out that the waves weren’t surfer friendly but there was something to learn, even so. They came in for breakfast when the wind shifted.
Hugh was reading.
Rifta was sleeping.
Mishael went up to shower as Toni began breakfast. Hugh setting his book and reading glasses aside came over to the counter and sat on one of the waist high barstools. Toni asked if he had eaten.
“No, and I am exceedingly hungry,” he said matter-of-fact. He already had coffee but at this point he was ready for breakfast.
“How about some pancakes? That is what Mishael is having,” she said.
Hugh nodded and then said, “Pancakes, a cheese omelet with potatoes… whatever you want. We are not picky.”
With but a glance at him, Toni returned the pancake mix to the pantry closet. She would make omelets.
Cooking was therapeutic for Toni. She was a relaxed hostess after years of fellowships, dinners and impromptu gatherings at her house. So, when Hugh drew her into an in-depth conversation about their church outing from the day before, Toni was unperturbed as she worked.
Before either of them realized it, the food was on the table and their discussion had covered the Bible from Genesis to the maps.
Toni found that Hugh knew a lot about the Christian religion but not as much about Christianity as a genuine lifestyle. Yesterday, the doorknob to his soul was rattled.
Hugh said no more, only listening and nodding at the appropriate intervals, as Mishael explained in detail his experience in the water that morning. It was a cheerful breakfast after the morning in the water, with first Hugh’s candor and now, Mishael’s lighthearted chatter.
Toni thought this the right time to take Mishael to the boardwalk and Beachcomber surf spot. There would still be surfers in the water and typically, some would be out discussing the morning conditions.
Toni left the dishes for later. Hugh exchanged his slippers for sandals and Rifta remained, sleeping.
Billie Cliff stood at the boardwalk rail. His greying mustache lifted slightly in the wind. He rode a long board and needed more wave than what was offered this morning. His friend Rick was still out in the water along with several other people, sitting or laying on their boards. The swell was washed out by the wind change but diehards continued bobbing about hoping for a decent set; a set being usually three waves that are surf worthy.
Mishael went over to Billie like they were conspiratorial school chums. Billie greeted him and with a shake of his head acknowledged Toni and Hugh. Toni realized Billie was the perfect surf mentor for Mishael and she made a mental note to expose them to one another as much as possible.
There was a bench at the bottom of the steps off to the side, but Toni knew it would be unbearably hot already...
At sunset the spot would be pleasant. She suggested to Hugh, that they go inside the Beachcomber and sit at the viewing windows. Toni would order a cup of tea – hot tea as was her norm.
Hugh was agreeable. He got bottled water and after the tea was set down, he said, “Mishael is uncommonly content. I had hoped that this Tour-before-Duty would be a reference point of joy and largeness… No, what I mean is, it would be a pleasurable initiation into the world beyond our magnificent nation.” Hugh glanced at Toni but her return stare prodded his face toward the water. When she followed his gaze, Toni could see a set on the horizon moving toward the shore. The surfers were too low in the water to see it yet. He continued, “For almost
ten months we traveled, Mishael and I… and Rifta too. I introduced him to my friends and to their children and grandchildren. Some wonderful people, let me say that. There were parties and much fun, especially for the young ones like Mishael. I had an uncommon time, as well. I love the horses and we do not have polo on D’Almata… Wait, yes! Horses!”
Toni pulled her eyes away from the incoming set to meet his twinkle. Lifting his lips, Hugh was content to see that his words captured her attention. He was smiling, a significant smile. “It comes together now… the water, the horses. But certainly, you have never been to D’Almata.”
Toni thought, “the water, the horses… and… and… I should tell him. Hugh interrupted her thoughts, “No, it wasn’t you. That was a long time ago… I am the one mistaken this time. You have never been to D’Almata!” He was affable but Toni was annoyed.
Toni glanced at the water to check on the set and then back to Hugh, saying, “Yes, you are mistaken… not me! I haven’t been mistaken and no, I have not had the pleasure of visiting your interesting little country.”
Hugh repeated, “Interesting little country? Yes, it is interesting but that is a bit of, what you westerners call an understatement. On the map, it appears smallish yes and yet it is extremely large when your shoes are on the ground.” He added quickly, “You infer you have never seen me before?” It was a question. Toni remembered standing in the river cooling her bare feet when Hugh rode proudly by unbeknownst to either of them how connected they were through the Nelsons – through Mishael. Ill at ease, she could feel her face going red. She looked away. All else forgotten, grabbing at his forearm, she cried out excitedly, “Oh, look!” The set had arrived.
A surfer attempted to catch the first of the three waves but he barely got up before abandoning his board. The others lost their chance on the first one but when the next wave arrived, a guy positioned himself with precision, and dropping into the wave as the water began to peel. He carved the liquid wall for twenty yards or more before kicking out as the wave closed out. Toni thought the third surfer was a woman. As they watched she paddle energetically but missed the final set wave.
Cynic, Surfer, Saint (Scenic Route to Paradise #1) Page 11
