said
cheerfully, not the least affected by the ominous feel to the weather. He led
me up to the edge of the lot, where gravel and ground changed abruptly to
irregular mounds of lava rock. Ahead of us was a spit of land that led far out
into the ocean like a pier, and which already hosted a couple pickup trucks and
some locals with fishing gear. The view from the end would be fabulous
indeed—nearly 360 degrees of ocean, with the mountains of the windward side
clearly visible in the distance.
Unfortunately, it was starting to sprinkle.
"Check this out," Matt said, tugging my
arm to the left and leading me out onto one of the lava mounds closer to the
car. I kept my eyes down as we went; the surface was like walking on mangled
iron—full of pits, sharp curves, and jagged edges—and my flip-flops were less
than ideal for the task. But before I could sprain an ankle Matt stopped and
pointed out toward the ocean. "Isn’t that cool?"
He pointed to a long ridge of rock several hundred
feet offshore, which rose from the ocean to tower an indeterminate number of
stories in the air. Right through its center was a giant, gaping hole.
"Tsunami punched that out," Matt explained. "All in one day. Wham .
Wind and water have got some pretty serious power out here, huh?"
I hugged my jacket tighter around me. The view was
beautiful, but I couldn’t shake a certain apprehensive feel about the place.
Maybe it was the violence of the churning water, or the clearly impending
cloudburst. Maybe it was just the shadows. There were an awful lot of them
here, which made them harder to ignore. Over Matt’s left shoulder, a man in
overalls and no shirt perched precariously on the edge of the cliff, reading a
letter. Half a dozen fainter people in Polynesian garb milled about all over
the rocks, and some hippie types were making out on the land spit, right next
to the secret service guy.
I blinked. The latter was Zane, of course, taking in
the view. As I watched, he glanced back at me, then gestured dramatically out
toward the open sea. I looked in the direction he pointed, and my heart
skipped. "Look!" I said excitedly to Matt, pointing myself. I had
only seen the movement for a split second, but I had watched enough nature
programs to recognize it. The flash of bold black and white that had appeared
above the churning gray water was nothing less than a breaching whale.
The animal disappeared again for several seconds,
then treated us both to an encore. The fluke of its tail rose high above the
surf, then crashed back into the water with a mighty flick.
"A humpback!" Matt said excitedly.
"Wow. I’ve never seen one of those before!"
"Really?" I asked. "Are they
rare?"
"Oh, no," he answered honestly.
"Other people see them all the time. I’ve just never gotten lucky. Thanks,
Kali. That was pretty cool." He threw an arm around my shoulders and gave
me a friendly squeeze.
"You’re welcome," another male voice said
flatly.
Zane was standing right behind us. "Rain’s
coming, by the way," he muttered.
The words were hardly out of his mouth before the
deluge began. Rain poured down in a sudden torrent as if the sky had opened up
like a sieve, and Matt and I couldn’t help laughing as we hauled back over the
lava rocks as fast as we could—which was not fast at all—to get back to the
relative safety of the car. We arrived dripping wet, but fortunately our
jackets had taken the brunt of it.
"Don’t worry," Matt assured, starting up
the car again and turning on the heater. "The sun will be out again before
we get to Chinaman’s Hat. Promise."
I smiled. Seeing the whale had changed the
atmosphere of the place considerably. Perhaps, in sunlight, I would have found
La'ie Point perfectly pleasant. It was hard for me to tell, sometimes, which
emotions were my own and which I was picking up from something—or someone—else.
The fact that I could feel what the shadows were feeling was an aspect of the
curse I had always resisted, and at
cheerfully, not the least affected by the ominous feel to the weather. He led
me up to the edge of the lot, where gravel and ground changed abruptly to
irregular mounds of lava rock. Ahead of us was a spit of land that led far out
into the ocean like a pier, and which already hosted a couple pickup trucks and
some locals with fishing gear. The view from the end would be fabulous
indeed—nearly 360 degrees of ocean, with the mountains of the windward side
clearly visible in the distance.
Unfortunately, it was starting to sprinkle.
"Check this out," Matt said, tugging my
arm to the left and leading me out onto one of the lava mounds closer to the
car. I kept my eyes down as we went; the surface was like walking on mangled
iron—full of pits, sharp curves, and jagged edges—and my flip-flops were less
than ideal for the task. But before I could sprain an ankle Matt stopped and
pointed out toward the ocean. "Isn’t that cool?"
He pointed to a long ridge of rock several hundred
feet offshore, which rose from the ocean to tower an indeterminate number of
stories in the air. Right through its center was a giant, gaping hole.
"Tsunami punched that out," Matt explained. "All in one day. Wham .
Wind and water have got some pretty serious power out here, huh?"
I hugged my jacket tighter around me. The view was
beautiful, but I couldn’t shake a certain apprehensive feel about the place.
Maybe it was the violence of the churning water, or the clearly impending
cloudburst. Maybe it was just the shadows. There were an awful lot of them
here, which made them harder to ignore. Over Matt’s left shoulder, a man in
overalls and no shirt perched precariously on the edge of the cliff, reading a
letter. Half a dozen fainter people in Polynesian garb milled about all over
the rocks, and some hippie types were making out on the land spit, right next
to the secret service guy.
I blinked. The latter was Zane, of course, taking in
the view. As I watched, he glanced back at me, then gestured dramatically out
toward the open sea. I looked in the direction he pointed, and my heart
skipped. "Look!" I said excitedly to Matt, pointing myself. I had
only seen the movement for a split second, but I had watched enough nature
programs to recognize it. The flash of bold black and white that had appeared
above the churning gray water was nothing less than a breaching whale.
The animal disappeared again for several seconds,
then treated us both to an encore. The fluke of its tail rose high above the
surf, then crashed back into the water with a mighty flick.
"A humpback!" Matt said excitedly.
"Wow. I’ve never seen one of those before!"
"Really?" I asked. "Are they
rare?"
"Oh, no," he answered honestly.
"Other people see them all the time. I’ve just never gotten lucky. Thanks,
Kali. That was pretty cool." He threw an arm around my shoulders and gave
me a friendly squeeze.
"You’re welcome," another male voice said
flatly.
Zane was standing right behind us. "Rain’s
coming, by the way," he muttered.
The words were hardly out of his mouth before the
deluge began. Rain poured down in a sudden torrent as if the sky had opened up
like a sieve, and Matt and I couldn’t help laughing as we hauled back over the
lava rocks as fast as we could—which was not fast at all—to get back to the
relative safety of the car. We arrived dripping wet, but fortunately our
jackets had taken the brunt of it.
"Don’t worry," Matt assured, starting up
the car again and turning on the heater. "The sun will be out again before
we get to Chinaman’s Hat. Promise."
I smiled. Seeing the whale had changed the
atmosphere of the place considerably. Perhaps, in sunlight, I would have found
La'ie Point perfectly pleasant. It was hard for me to tell, sometimes, which
emotions were my own and which I was picking up from something—or someone—else.
The fact that I could feel what the shadows were feeling was an aspect of the
curse I had always resisted, and at
Similar Books
