Page 5 of Barefoot Chaos
That all came to a screeching halt with my parents divorcing when I was in high school. My mom moved back to California, where she had grown up, bringing me with her. I went from tropical beaches to traffic and smog. Running on the beach after school became my way of processing all the anger I felt about the things I couldn't control.
Moana (ocean) was moana, wherever you go. The ocean calmed me so I made sure to incorporate her into my life, even though I now lived on the mainland. Hell, my own name was Kai, meaning the water of the ocean. We were one.
No matter how long I ran, I always ended with meditation. The sun had usually already dipped into the ocean by the time I walked out onto the sand. I'd find a spot near the water's edge and plop down, hands on knees, eyes closed. I'd breathe in the salty air, listen to the waves roll in and recede, feel the wind blow across my skin. Time slowed down and I let my mind wander.
I had a routine. Think about all the things I was thankful for, then shift into all the ways I wanted to live my life, focusing on the feeling, not the material things. Every damn time I would feel my attitude shifting, a sense of calm taking over my body. It was like a hit from a drug, but a hundred times better with only positive side effects.
My lifeguard buddies all thought I was a little weird with my meditating habit, calling me a hippie, but I didn't care. One day, they'd join me and realize what they'd been missing out on. Till then, I'd continue to get my hit of happiness and laugh about how stressed out everybody else seemed to be.
Tonight, I wrapped up my meditation early and headed back to my truck. I didn't want to bother making dinner at my place, so I stopped by Maui Bowl and picked up a salmon poke bowl, extra avocado. You can take the guy out of Hawaii, but you can't take the aloha out of the guy.
As I was heading out the door with my bowl-to-go, a redhead snagged my arm as we passed. I stopped when I looked up and realized it was a girl I'd seen at a friend's housewarming party not too long ago. Jasmine? Jade? Crap, I couldn't remember her name. We'd had a nice chat at the party, but I wasn't interested in anything further so even though she's seemed open to it, I moved on and hoped she got the message.
"Kai? How are you, stranger?" She remembered my name. And she was leaning in for a hug, so I obliged by hugging back, but disengaging quickly.
"I've been good. Just tired after a long day. How about you?" I was taught not to be rude, so I'd carry out a friendly exchange and then get the hell out of there. I'd gotten some red flags the first time I met her that made me feel like she was a clinger and needed to be avoided.
"I've been good, but I'd be better if you'd called me after Ivan's party." She smiled coyly, fishing for a phone call or a date, most likely.
Unfortunately for her, my good manners didn't extend that far. "Hey, I'm all about being up front and honest. I'm not looking for anything right now, so I didn't call. I'm sure you can understand that." I flashed her a smile and turned to leave.
"Your loss, asshole!" she shouted after me.
I didn't even bother looking back. Dodged a bullet with that one. Glad to know my instincts were still in working order.
As I let myself into my one-bedroom apartment, I glanced around at the mostly empty rooms. Contrary to what I told psycho-girl, I was indeed looking for a relationship. I was thirty-two years old. I wanted to have a partnership with someone who got me. I wanted to have kids and a house full of laughter and warmth. But I'd seen the devastation from my parents' divorce, and I didn't want that for me. I wasn't going to settle. I would wait. I would find a woman who wanted me, in sickness and health, rich or poor. She'd understand my need to be outdoors, she'd want to travel to various islands with me, she'd meditate with me in the sand and enjoy the simple life. And she had to like my VW...deal breaker right there.
She was out there. I could feel it.
So tomorrow, I'd meditate again and I'd send out my request to the universe. It was time. I was ready.
3
Hessa
Our entire student body was crammed into the main gym's bleachers. Today was Career Day and we had several speakers lined up to present and then the senior class would go around from booth to booth talking to professionals about potential career options. As you could imagine, it was total chaos, each kid trying to talk over the others, meaning everyone was shouting and no one was listening.
I settled back into my chair on the gym floor, my thick reading glasses in place. Teachers sat on either side of me waiting for our Principal to start the presentation. I had a notebook out on my lap and a fresh pen. You never knew when inspiration would strike and since I was the one coordinating all the Care Dares, I kept my mind open for dare ideas that might help my students.
I kept shifting on my chair, trying to find a comfortable spot. After last weekend's run-in with the pack of lifeguards, I went a bit crazy. I'd met them looking my grungiest, and when I looked through my wardrobe, I realized I didn't have much of anything that seemed sexy or racy or even halfway interesting. How could I possibly show up to a Wednesday night Chocolate Dreams hang-out of hotties when I had nothing but schoolmarm clothes to wear!
That observation obviously led to thoughts of undergarments. And my granny panties. Which led to a quick trip to Fashion Island to get my hands on some lacy thongs. Which I was wearing right now and quickly realizing was a big mistake.
The lace was scratchy, rubbing against some delicate areas that had never experienced sandpaper, I mean, lace. And there just wasn't enough material to keep it from flying right up the crevice like a slick piece of floss cutting into your gums. Except, you know, in my unmentionables. The more I shifted, the higher they went.
Was it possible to chafe from thongs so badly you bled?
I was cut off from this terrifying train of thought by our Principal finally taking to the microphone.
"Settle down now." He raised his hand and gave the look of death to our student body, signally he meant business. The kids quieted down and gave a good show of listening.
"As you know, today is Career Day here at Surf City High. For our seniors, this is especially important as we prepare you to head off into the real world and hold down jobs to support yourselves. I expect all of you to listen with respect to our presenters here today. They are here, donating their own time, to talk to you about potential career paths that may be open to you. Without further ado, please join me in welcoming Kai Kane from the Huntington Beach Lifeguards."
There was a louder than normal smattering of applause, probably because this was one of the lifeguards that worked with the Jr. Lifeguards over the summer, like my student James had said. I looked over at the man approaching the microphone and promptly dropped my pen on the wood floor, along with my stomach.
I was gobsmacked.
That was my lifeguard. The one who bought me hot chocolate. The one that made my insides feel like they were on fire. The one who prompted the ill-fated underwear purchase.
