Page 114 of Catch a Kiwi
“I’m not discussing this,” I said. “Honestly—I can’t. Except that I’ll just say—HarrisonFord?The guy’s eighty! And listen, I think we need to leave today.”
“Today?” Delilah blinked at me and ate a big wedge of mandarin, then followed it up with the truffle-enhanced ice cream. “It’s already almost five, and I’m going out with the new friends in a couple of hours. It’s trivia night at this pub. Not the one with Daryl Harshbarger’s equally evil clone, so no worries. They want me to be part of their team. I know soccer, because there was probably some hero worship of you back there when I was young and less discerning, and I know some genetics and biology, too. I also know movies, and there’ll be more questions on that than astronomy. So unless Roman did—what? Something nonconsensual or whatever? That would be totally uncool, and I’d support you, but—really?”
I didn’t answer, because I was looking at my phone. For some reason, I still wasn’t going down for my robe. I was standing almost naked out here like some kind of declaration, even though I was trembling inside. ProbablybecauseI was trembling inside. I couldn’t manage any more emotion. I was too raw to cry, if that makes sense, and was shuttingdown instead. I could feel the doors slamming shut at this moment, like hatches on a submarine that’s about to dive. It was like my brain was outside my body, like some of the bad times last spring, and I was watching myself disintegrate. It felt terrifying to go back there, and if I had to distract myself by standing around half-naked while Delilah made snarky comments, that was what I was going to do. That, and check flight times.
I put the phone down. “OK, we can’t. No flights. We’re still leaving tomorrow morning. Go do your trivia thing. And no, of course he didn’t do anything like that. Roman is a … a good person. An ethical person.” I sounded eighty years old myself.
“Uh-huh,” Delilah said. “You know—you could come with us. Distraction, right? Also, you could answer all the math questions, and who knows what else, what with your college education and reading habits and all. I don’t know anybody who reads nonfiction all the time except you, at least no women. Right now, you’re reading about the bubonic plagueandthe Lewis and Clark expedition. No wonder you’re depressed. Ever heard of escapist fiction? There’s a reason people like it. You get to escape.”
“I like to be informed,” I said stiffly. “‘Those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.’ Winston Churchill.”
Delilah rolled her eyes. “Come on. You just want to know that other people suffered more than you.”
“Also possible,” I said.
She sighed. “You’re extremely weird, but—hey. Trivia knowledge base. Come on. It’ll be fun.”
If I had to smile for hours tonight, my face was going to crack. I’d spent months—possibly years—wearing a mask, but somehow, my mask had dissolved, and I couldn’t recreate it. I said, “Thanks. I’m going to the movies, I think. Maybe go for a walk first and try to push myself some, though. I’vealways wanted to live on the ocean. Might as well take the chance. I should probably start doing pushups and planks and things, too. Physical accomplishment is supposed to make you mentally stronger. Worth a try.”
“Fine,” Delilah said. “Be all super functional like that. You may want to put on some clothes first, though. That’s a lot.”
50
AGAINST THE CURRENT
Summer
Do you know why I didn’t go to the movies? Besides that the theater was showing Part Four or Part Five or whatever it was of Kung Fu Panda, plus a movie about King Kong fighting Godzilla and the umpteenth iteration of a bro-culture franchise about car crashes. Felipe had watched all of those movies. Multiple times. I wasnotwatching that, and not because I was against escapism, whatever Delilah thought. Because it was stupid.
The non-cartoony film on offer was—wait for it—a Hindi one about Indian football. Which means soccer.
Yes. I could watch a fake dinosaur-slash-monster fight a fake giant gorilla, or an inspirational movie about soccer. There’s a choice for you. So I chose the mature option, despite my physically intense day. I hiked up the mountain.
The track was steep, and my yoga-weary muscles and possibly depressed brain weren’t thrilled. My brain, in fact, wanted to stop. Just stop and make me sit down right here, because everything about my life felt too hard. I pushed myself anyway and repeated,Self-improvement. Self-improvement.Self-improvement,like a mantra. I hadn’t failed. I was moving forward. I’d hit a bump, that was all. I’d …
I’d totally forgotten to get the credit card back from Delilah. I texted her,Do not use Roman’s card tonight.I didn’t get an answer, and was just thinking of calling her when I heard, “Summer. Hi.”
I looked up. It was Matiu, Hemi’s—Roman’s—cousin and Poppy’s husband. The doctor. We were nearly at the summit, but he was running down again while I was still toiling up. He wiped a forearm across his face and said, “Out on your own, eh.”
“Uh … yes,” I said. “Nice to see you.” Why had nobody in this country learned the art of pretending they hadn’t recognized you? I struggled for some social poise and came out with, “You did your childcare duty and are taking some time to yourself now, huh?”
“Something like that. I heard about the hot yoga.” He grinned, showing some very white teeth. “Left Roman in a sweaty heap on the floor, eh. Has he recovered?”
“Uh … yes,” I said. “I think so.” Clearly stiffly, because Matiu peered at me and asked, “Something wrong?”
“Oh, no,” I said. “No, I’m fine. It’s beautiful here, isn’t it? All the green, and the beach and the sea and the coastline and … everything. How many kilometers does the beach go on for? It seems endless.”
“A fair way,” Matiu said slowly. “Too much for Roman, then, all the togetherness? Felt like an outsider? I wouldn’t ask, but Poppy said he broke off pretty abruptly after that class, and here you are alone, so …” When I didn’t answer, he grinned a little sheepishly. “Maori whanau, eh. Kotahitanga. No distance allowed.”
“What?” I was still having trouble focusing, but I seized on that. It was knowledge, and I preferred knowledge toemotion. You could hold onto knowledge. You could sink your teeth into it.
“Kotahitanga,” he repeated. “Togetherness. Sharing the earth. Lifting each other up. Very important Maori concept. He waka eke noa. A canoe we are all in with no exception.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, that’s nice.”
“I think so,” he said. “In that spirit—want to walk down with me? You’re nearly there anyway, and it’ll be dark soon.”
Half of me wanted to say, “No, thank you,” and not just because Matiu was, yes, a very handsome man. Was I doomed to keep bumping up against good-looking men? They were clearly terrible for my immortal soul. The other half, though, said, “Sure,” and turned around. Possibly so I wouldn’t have to struggle my way to the top. It was steep up here, and my obstinate brain was still objecting to my self-improvement program.
