She has been clutching it to her front, but with a big sigh, she tosses it back down in front of my hut. "Wennin Roahm."
MARI
So this must be what it's like to live on a nudist beach, I think to myself as I sit on the shore and watch T'chai spearfish. There's a lot of breezes, the potential for heinous sunburns, and sand every-freaking-where it shouldn't be.
At least the view is nice.
I wrap my arms around my knees and watch as T'chai remains perfectly still in the hip-deep water. It was a little startling when he waded in and shifted colors to match the rippling waves. I made a terrified croaking sound that made him race back to the shore, and it took a few minutes for him to calm down again before he headed back out. I'm learning all kinds of things out here on Nude Sushi Beach. I'm learning that these people are buck naked all the damn time, probably because of the heat and humidity. It makes sense, I suppose. Why put on heavy leather if you're just wading out into the waters? I learn that T'chai changes colors like a chameleon and camouflages to his surroundings—or to his mate, which makes me blush with an odd sort of pleasure. And I learn that T'chai has these impressive little dimples just above his rounded backside, which are pretty fascinating to stare at.
I also learned that if it comes down to me or his people, T'chai chooses me. That's pretty heady stuff, considering we barely know each other. Even so, I saw how he confronted them earlier. I couldn't understand what they were saying, but the tones and facial expressions were obvious. His friends were acting like sullen jerks and T'chai put them all in their places and defended me.
My khui has chosen wisely. Not only is my guy an absolute smoke show, but he's got a protective streak. I'm so grateful for that protectiveness, because I'm absolutely terrified of this situation. I don't know where I am, I can't speak the language, and Lauren is missing. I'm not the decisive, leader-y sort. I'm more of a cowering sidekick. I wish I was more brave like Lauren, but it's just easier when someone else is in control. T'chai glances back at me on the beach and I wave absently.
Much easier when the one in control has cute butt dimples.
He's not much of a fisherman, though. We've been out here for a few hours and he hasn't caught anything. I waded on the shore earlier—the waters are crystal clear and surprisingly warm, which worries me. This is supposed to be an ice planet, not an island paradise. Either I've left the planet or something's really wrong here.
I suspect it has something to do with the constant plume of smoke on the horizon, or the fact that the warm water looks kind of like a circular bay. I'm no scientist, but I'm pretty sure I've read enough books and watched enough nature shows to suspect there's some sort of volcanic activity going on here.
I wonder if T'chai and his people realize that. Did all the others leave ahead of them and T'chai and his friends are the only ones left behind? They're just handling some business before they get the hell out of Dodge? Except…no one seems to be in a hurry. I've been watching T'chai spearfish for hours and the man is incredibly patient. He barely moves a muscle, even when my cootie starts to sing so loudly that it's making me squirm on the sand.
That's another problem. I'm getting so many problems that they're all running together in my head. With a stick, I start to write in the fine-grained sand. Problem One—resonance. I scratch out “resonance” promptly and replace it with “volcano.” Priorities, Marisol, I chide myself. Remember all the history books you read about Pompeii and Herculaneum? Smoking volcano takes priority over whether or not you have to sleep with a hot guy and make a baby with him.
Problem Two—Lauren. I don't know where she's at. There's no one else on the beach and earlier, when I headed toward the trees, calling her name, T'chai herded me back toward the beach. I've got to find her.
Problem Three—Home. This one feels less “clear” than others. A volcano has an easy solution—get the heck away from it. Lauren has an easy solution—go find her. Home? I don't know where “home” is anymore. Do I mean the icy beach