Between the Land and the Sea - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,8

both curious and guarded. The boys were posing with their chests thrust out, trying to seem tough. The girls looked openly hostile. I followed Cruz’s lead and started to walk faster, giving the group a wide berth.

“Hey Cruzie boy,” a girl’s voice called called out as we passed by, “Who’s the new hag?” I spun around, uncharacteristically confrontational. Startled, most of them looked away or down. One tall blonde met my gaze with hard eyes and a defiant jut of her chin.

“Let’s just go Marina,” pleaded Cruz.

I held my tongue and turned away. We continued down the street in silence until we were on our own little lane.

“Sorry about that,” Cruz sighed. “Those guys are total jerks.”

“Were those the stoners or the surfers?” I asked.

“Those were the stoned surfers,” Cruz replied. We burst into laughter and joked about them the rest of the way home.

I fell into bed that night, drained from the events of the day. I could hear the surf pounding away on the beach like a distant war being waged between the land and the sea, and I had the strangest feeling that my life would never be the same. My father and I were no longer a pair of intrepid adventurers, charging out to save the world side by side. Destiny was taking us on separate paths, and it felt frightening and liberating at the same time.

CHAPTER TWO

EYES

I opened my eyes and for a moment I didn’t know where I was. I had the sensation of floating in a warm sea, buoyant and weightless. A scratching sound brought me fully awake and I looked up to see Charlie sitting by the door, staring at me with golden eyes.

“You want out buddy?” I swung my feet onto the cool bare floor. Charlie had demanded to be let in late last night and refused to leave my room; I finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, listening to his rumbling purr drown out the sound of the surf. I cracked the door open and smiled, watching the orange fur-ball slither out.

I felt rested, and was eager to explore my new neighborhood. A little shiver of happiness ran down my spine for no particular reason. I quickly dressed for the cool gray day I saw dawning outside and made for the kitchen. A note left on the table explained that Abby had left early to drive Cruz to work and run a few errands. There was a set of house keys for me and instructions to make myself at home. I opened the pantry doors and found a shelf stocked full of assorted breakfast cereals. I chuckled to myself when I remembered poor Cruz and his dietary woes.

The kitchen opened up to a small living room with a picture window facing out on a riot of flowers in the front garden. There was a comfortable looking denim couch and a small television set perched on a stack of old leather suitcases. A couple of rolled up yoga mats were leaning in the corner, along with several brightly colored bean bag chairs. A rag rug scattered with cat toys softened the hardwood floor. One whole wall was devoted to a brick and board bookshelf, sagging with the weight of hundreds of books. The room had the kind of homey, lived-in feeling that my San Francisco apartment lacked.

I took my new keys, packed a tote bag with some art supplies and set out for a walk on the beach. This time I found the stairway easily and made my way down quickly. As I descended, I scanned the empty stretch of sand.

“Oh dear! Oh dear! Oh no...”

I looked around for the source of the distressed voice. A very small, extremely old woman seemed to be having a panic attack at the bottom of the stairs. She was pacing back and forth at the base of the bluff, looking up into some large clumps of pampas grass that clung precariously to the cliff-side.

“Are you alright?” I asked her as I neared the sand, “Can I help?” She looked up at me with panicked eyes, “I can’t find my Freddy...”

“Freddy?” I asked, thinking she must have lost a dog, “What does he look like?”

“Oh dear...” she drifted off. She was dressed in an odd assortment of clothes that looked like they might have been selected randomly in the dark. Yellow rubber rain boots were topped off with what looked like a square-dancing skirt and a thick knobby sweater. She wore an odd crocheted