Between the Land and the Sea - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,41
equipment in the truck bed. I looked around the cab. It looked like he lived in it. There was a box with some clothes and school books stuffed into it along with a couple of folded beach towels. I bent down to wedge my bag under the seat. My sketchbook was there, the one that got soaked the day I met Lorelei, and I wondered why he kept it. Ethan climbed in and started the truck. We drove along in a nervous silence.
“How long have you known my Aunt Abby?” I asked.
“Me and Cruz went to elementary school together,” he said, “Abby was always really nice to me when I was a kid.”
I nodded, “She’s probably the nicest person I know.”
“Yeah she’s great,” Ethan said, “I used to spend a lot of time at their house. How come I never met you before?”
“We weren’t around much. My dad travels a lot for his work. He always takes me along...
until this time.”
“Why not this time?”
“He thinks Afghanistan is too dangerous,” I paused for a moment, “I think he’s being overprotective.”
“I don’t know about that. What’s he doing there?” he asked.
“He’s working to develop cash crops for the people affected by war and the drug trade. I talked to him after... uh... recently and he’s pretty excited about the possibilities.” I told him more about how my father researched new farming techniques and hybridized crops for people all around the world. I explained how he taught and lectured at the university, but preferred working outdoors in the fields, sun on his face, hands in dirt. I felt like I was babbling again but Ethan seemed genuinely interested. He asked pointed questions that kept me talking until we pulled into a secluded parking lot that looked out onto some grassy sand dunes.
He reached under his seat and pulled out a bakery bag.
“Healthy breakfast?” he said, offering me a doughnut.
“Thanks,” I smiled, “beats Tofu scramble.” We both laughed.
“Abby’s great, but she never has been able to cook.”
“Aren’t you not supposed to eat before you swim?” I asked.
“That’s a myth,” he said as he ate, “I wouldn’t go out after a really big meal but a doughnut won’t hurt you. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you do anything dangerous.”
“I know,” I said.
We took our bags and hiked down a narrow winding path through the dunes to an empty beach with gently breaking waves. It was a beautiful spot, and the sun started to win its battle with the fog, softly lighting the scene.
“Rule number one,” he said, looking at me, “You’re gonna need some sunscreen.” He laid his towel down on the sand and started to pull his gear out of an army surplus duffel bag. He handed me a tube and told me not to forget the tops of my ears. I felt like a little kid, but had to admit that I hadn’t considered it. I did tend to sunburn. Ethan stripped down to his swim trunks and pulled out his wetsuit. His body was lean and muscular, and I blushed, remembering the first time I saw him.
I spread my towel on the sand and stood there awkwardly. I glanced over to see that he had climbed into his suit and was looking at me expectantly.
“Let’s go,” he said, “get your suit on.” When it finally dawned on him that I was shy he turned to face the water.
I hurried to slip out of my clothes quickly while he wasn’t looking. I thought about all of the surfer girls running around in bikinis and realized they wouldn’t feel awkward at all. I squirmed into my suit and was struggling with the back zipper when he turned around.
“That’s a nice wetsuit,” he said, “Let me get that.” I turned and he zipped up the back. His fingers brushed the base of my neck and it sent a shock wave down my spine.
“Aunt Evie just asked the guy at the shop...” I said nervously.
“I thought she was a neighbor,” he said.
“She likes me to call her aunt,” I explained, “But she’s like everything rolled into one. I never had a mom– I think that’s why she spoils me.”
“You’re lucky to have her,” he said.
“Yeah, I’m lucky,” I said, thinking of how I’d be able to talk to Lorelei soon. I looked into his eyes, “Teach me how to swim in the sea,” I said firmly.
Ethan told me the basic rules first. Never swim alone, and never turn your back on the surf.