Page 38 of Turbulent Fires

We’re gliding along the east side of the Catalina coastline near Frog Rock, the blue-green water so clear I can see schools of fish darting beneath us. We maneuver through kelp beds and along jagged cliffs where pelicans are perched like feathered sentinels. After the stories Wolf’s told me, I don’t trust the huge birds either.

Wolf’s been pointing out different areas to me, and though this is more of a pleasure excursion than work, I’ll include it in my blog so I won’t feel quite as bad about wasting a day. I don’t know why I’d feel bad anyway. I make money from my blog, but I do it out of love, not because I need to make money. I also don’t have a deadline or a timeframe to meet. I could stay down here for a month straight, or even longer. Chloe might be a bit upset about that, but I have nowhere I have to be. I need to simply enjoy every moment of this.

I love all of the sea caves carved out by centuries of tide and time. We paddle inside one, its opening narrow, the interior dark, echoing with the sound of dripping water and our own subdued voices. I look for bats, but don’t see any. I’m not afraid of bats. They fascinate me.

“This is Pirate’s Tunnel,” Wolf says. “Rumor is, smugglers used this to store contraband in the early 1900s. Then again, there are many stories like this around the island. It’s always drawn adventurers and rogues... and people who want to disappear.”

As we float inside the cavern I look up, trying to take it all in. “I can see why. It feels like a whole other world inside here.”

“Are you planning to disappear?” Wolf asks with a chuckle.

“Maybe. I wonder how long it would take to be missed.” In reality, it wouldn’t take long at all. Not only would my mother and father call in the military if they couldn’t find me, but Chloe would have a search party bigger than the Revolutionary Army on the hunt within a day. It’s rare we go a single day without at least a few texts. The echo of my words bounces off the stone walls, making them seem ominous and mysterious.

“You’d be missed within seconds,” Wolf says. I’m starting to believe him when he says things like this.

“Race you,” I say before shoving off and paddling as fast as I can. He lets me have a head start, but even with the lead, it doesn’t take him long to catch me, give me a splash from his paddle, then quickly overtake me. I’m pushing as hard as I can, and he still leaves me in his wake. I’m going to have to secretly practice so that the next time we do this I can splash him and quickly escape. Where there’s a will there’s a way.

We get back to the docks at eleven, have a healthy lunch, then take a long hike. We head out to Hermit Gulch campground and then go up and up and up. I thought I was in good shape, but I’m breathing heavy as I try to keep up with Wolf along the Hermit Gulch trail that seems to never end. When we reach the top, it’s all worth it, though. We can see both sides of the island, showing just how narrow it truly is. I’m fascinated.

I gaze down at the sparkling water and the rooftops of homes in shades of coral, apricot, and gold. What a different world this island is. We sit on the bench and eat some granola and guzzle water.

“This is another of my favorite views,” Wolf says. “When I was a kid and needed to burn energy, I’d come up here, sometimes a couple of times a week.”

“Are you trying to show off right now?” I say with a laugh. I’m still breathing a bit heavy, but also feeling pretty dang accomplished. I work out regularly, but this is next level.

“You get used to it when you’ve been here long enough,” he assures me.

“At least I don’t feel guilty for all of the food and liquor I’m consuming.”

“Yes, you burn a lot of calories on the island. But if someone wants to be lazy, they can. I use the golf cart at times, but I try to walk more than ride while I’m here. You certainly don’t need a gym.”

I laugh. “That’s for sure. I love that I’m not afraid of a mountain lion jumping out and getting me. That’s my biggest fear when hiking in Washington.”

“Don’t forget about the bears,” he says.

“Trust me, Ineverforget about the bears. I’m shocked you think about them, though. You always seem so fearless.”

He meets my gaze. “I’m not fearless. Anyone who says they don’t have any fear is certainly lying. I simply choose to run toward the danger before it gets the chance to chase me.”

I nod at him. “I guess we’re always chasing something. Maybe it’s simply a purpose. I’ve gone through many jobs, having a difficult time finding satisfaction in any one thing. I get bored and move on. I love my blog, though. I love writing. I’m always inspired by everything around me, and I feel like I have to get it on paper. Maybe blogging will stick.” I shrug my shoulders. I know it frustrates my parents at times that I seem so lost when I have the world at my fingertips.

“Maybe it’s simply about living your story, which you seem to be doing.”

I blink, then smile at him. “I like that. Maybe I am.”

Wolf reaches down and picks up a pebble, tossing it down the hill. “That’s how I feel when I fly. It’s freedom for me. It also makes everything else feel temporary. I can land in any city or country, but I’m only there for a brief moment. There are very few places that feel like home, that keep me grounded.”

“Maybe that’s why you come here so you don’t feel so untethered.”

“Exactly,” he says. It’s crazy how much we seem to understand each other.

“Maybe you simply need to find more places to land,” I suggest.

He smiles. “Or maybe I just need a partner to make every place I land the right one.”

I don’t know what to say to this. I look out at the view as we sit in a comfortable silence while the breeze brushes across our skin, our hearts caught somewhere between restlessness and recognition of something special.

It’s getting late, and we have a ways to go, so we begin the trek back down the mountain, going a new way. I’m delighted when we come out in the Botanical Gardens. We’ve made a giant loop.

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