“I to the world am like a drop of water

“I to the world am like a drop of water
That in the ocean seeks another drop,
Who, falling there to find his fellow forth,
Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself.”

-William Shakespeare

I was walking down the beach, barefoot, my slippers in my right hand. The ocean lapped and called at my feet, but I felt a familiar fear choke up my chest and throat, and pushed away the yearning that was kindling in my heart. My hair flew past my shoulders; it was odd that I didn’t have it in a ponytail, but my hands didn’t feel like moving at the moment.

Hungrily, the ocean continued its ceaseless pleading, and I looked out into the horizon. The morning sun was already up in the cobalt-blue sky, and the banzai pipeline was already being ridden by several daring surfers. Idiots, I thought, as I watched them.

Secretly, I was jealous. I used to be a surfer too. But now, I’m afraid. I can’t go into the water anymore. Not after what happened.

“Amaryllis Catherine Lehman!” someone shouted behind my back, and I turned around. I saw Sadie (best friend and cousin) walking furiously up the beach towards me, slightly red in her tanned face, her ebony hair flying behind her in the daybreak breeze. She caught up to me, and bent over, hands on thighs, panting like she had just run a marathon.

“Don’t call my full name,” I said, and patted her back.

“It’s the only way to get your attention!” Sadie complained. “You were in a daze again.”

“Well…I’m walking next to the ocean,” I offered, and we started walking down the beach line.

“I guess you’re right, but you should wait for your favorite cuz!” Sadie said, playfully punching my hand. I mocked agony.

“You’re my only cousin! Besides, since when you do you ever wait for me?” I laughed.

“You don’t count,” she chortled. I noogied her head fiercely, and she let out a squawk of displeasure, much to my satisfaction. Sadie stood up, face creased into a frown. She patted down her black hair (which would straighten with so much as a stroke), and glared at me viciously with those slanted eyes of hers.

Sadie hated noogies. I looked her over, and reminded myself how much my cousin looked 100 Hawaiian. Unlike moi over here.

“So, Amy,” she continued, breaking my train of thoughts. “Have you given any thinking about decorations for the dance? A name, maybe?”

I sighed. Sadie had been constantly pestering me about this dance my grandparents were holding at their beach lodge. We needed to come up with a name and decorations.

“No, I haven’t thought about it,” I said, flicking a wrist dramatically. “I was too busy being narcissistic about myself.” I paused for effect, and Sadie gave me a puzzled look. “Of course I’ve been thinking about it, dope – head!” and I bonked her firmly on the skull.

She gasped. “You turn to violence? My dear Amaryllis, you shame me!” she put a hand to her forehead in a thespian manner, and then snapped back to reality. “Now, about the dance.”

“Ah, I was thinking about something like ‘Under the Sea’, or ‘Splash’,” and I emphasized my ideas by putting out my hands, as if imagining the banners. Sadie gave me a dull look.

“Tsk, tsk, Amy, you disappoint me, ma cherie,” she clucked, shaking her head sorrowfully.

I gasped in fake anger. “Well, let’s see you do any better!” and I put my hands on my hips. We stared at each other for a while, and then burst out laughing.

“And this is only the beginning of summer!” Sadie pointed out, putting a lock of hair behind her ears.

“Oh, God, I don’t even want to think about midsummer!” I groaned, and buried my face in my palms. Suddenly, my world turned upside down as I went head-first into the sand. I heard Sadie cry out in righteous anger, and my shoulder started to throb. First thing I knew, my shoulders were soaking wet.

I couldn’t stop the wave of pure terror washing over me. I shot up like a bolt, trembling and trying to dry my dripping head. Water rushed into my nose, and I coughed; this feeling was all too familiar. I was wet from my head to my shoulders. I silently thanked God I wasn’t wearing a white T-shirt. I scrambled backwards desperately, trying to get away from the water as far as possible.

Sandy dashed to my side, and I felt her pull me up.

“Amy! Amy!” she called, a hint of urgency in her voice. She turned to the offender, and I felt her glare harden. “You idiot!” she growled. I flinched; Sadie’s temper was not to be trifled with. I was still in shock, thus, my voice hadn’t crawled up my throat and out my mouth yet – in a nutshell, I simply shut up.

“What’s your problem?” a male voice answered. I was still in a stunned state from my fall in the water. “She just got wet.”

Sadie’s grip on my upper arm tightened. “It’s not that, you ignorant galoot!”

“What did you call me?” he snarled.

“Aw, did I bruise your ego?” Sadie smirked. I rolled my eyes mentally. Why did she have to pick a fight with everyone? Then again, I wasn’t much better than her.

“Hey, Scott, are you coming?!” another voice shouted, from down on the beach. The boy that had sent me tumbling into the water looked back with a glare in his dark eyes. “Leith’s coming up soon!”

The guy (now known as Scott), yelled back. “I’m coming!” He shot us a last glare and ran off to his friend down by the beach. Immediately, I gained my voice and tried to stop the urge to hack my lungs off. I coughed, all the same, and Sadie’s attention was brought back to me.

“You okay, Amy?” she asked, hauling me up. I gave another frame racking cough and nodded.

“I guess,” I answered, sounded less than halfhearted. Sadie rubbed my arm comfortingly.

“I know it’s hard,” she said, patting me. “Hey, want to watch the competition?” Sadie asked, obviously trying to cheer me up. I nodded again, this time feeling a bit better.

“Sure,” I said, and I picked myself up. “First, let me go get another t-shirt.”

“See you in a few?” Sadie said, checking the watch on her slim wrist.

I flashed a smile. “See you in a few,” I confirmed. Sadie ran off in the other direction, her flip flops making sand fly up in the air. I, on the other hand, ran uphill to the beach house.

The beach house was my home, and Sadie’s, too. I lived with my maternal grandparents and Sadie’s parents. I ran up to the blue door and swung I open. The smell of home made French fries assaulted my nostrils, and reminded me of the twitching hunger in my stomach. Well, it’d have to wait until after the competition. I looked up at the clock. Perfect, it was twelve o’clock. Just enough time to go watch the surfers, come back and eat.

Grandma Mimi surprised me by suddenly shooting out of the living room.

“Ah, Amy!” she said, spreading her hands wide. Then, she spotted my soaking head and shoulders, and her blue eyes widened. “What happened?”

All my family was well acquainted with my fear for water, and I am so glad to have them there for me. I shook my head to reassure her. “Nothing, Nana; a stupid guy just pushed me halfway into the water.”

She gave me a frown. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, yes.”

“Go change, then. I bet you want to watch the surfing down at the beach,” she said, smiling and showing her dimples.

“How is it that you can read my mind, Nana?” I asked, incredulous.

“My dear, I raised you. Now, off to your room to change!” she said, and wrung her hands in the direction of the stairs. I gave her an appreciative (if not wet), hug, and dashed upstairs, nearly killing myself in the process. I opened my closet, and hastily took out a checkered shirt which I put on, and then tied the ends around my midriff. Perfect!

Down the stairs I tramped again. Grandpa Phillip was reading the newspaper, sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee. His eyebrow went up as I shot past him, hands already tying my elbow-length hair in a high ponytail.

“In a rush?” he asked, his voice shaking with laughter.

“Har, har, Grandpa,” I said, and determinedly fixed the ponytail in place. “Going to watch the surfing competition. Be back in a snap!” I waved and raced out into the porch, putting on my flip flops as I went. Grandpa shouted something about not losing my appetite, but I didn’t hear it because I was halfway to my destination.

I jumped onto Sadie, startling a scream out of her; several people looked at us as if we were nuts, but Sadie looked at me, glowering.

“Don’t do that!” she said.

“Aw, were you scared?” I asked, patting her shoulder. She shot me another glare, but it was replaced with a look of utter joy. I followed her gaze over my shoulder and to the crashing of the waves.

The famous banzai pipeline was forming, and I could see a shimmering silhouette inside the wave, surfing as if it were second nature. Yep, it paid well to live in Oahu. The wave crashed in on itself, and the shore, and the person that had been inside the pipeline came zooming out.

I raised an eyebrow; this guy was pretty good. I couldn’t see very well, but I saw that he had brown streaked hair. He was wearing a pair of black jams (could you get any more obvious?) and was evidently showing off. He rode up to the top of the wave, did a (really) showy flip, and landed back down, causing raucous cheers to erupt from the crowd standing on the beach.

Soon, he rode in on the surf, and walked to the beach. Two people ran to him, jumping on the guy and shouting stuff like : “You did it, Leith!” or “All the practice paid off, man!”

I rolled my eyes so hard that they hurt. I looked back to Sadie. After looking her over, I was ready to whack her. I looked around for something to bonk Sadie over the head with. She never ceased to amaze me with her mood swings. One minute she’s poised for the kill and the next she’s gawking over a guy’s abs.

I cuffed her upside the head resolutely. She gave another squeal, and rubbed her head.

“What was that for?” she whined.

“Man, Sadie, make up your mind! You’re either with them or against them,” I said, balling my hand into a fist and shaking it in her face.

“Can’t I be both?” Sadie asked, and looked hopeful. Honestly, she’s like a kid sometimes.

“No, you can’t. I, for one, am against them,” I stated, and turned to look at the celebrating males. Where had I heard the name Leith before? It had something to do with the guy who pushed me over…Oh, yeah, his friend! The surfing one. So, a friend of that ‘ignorant galoot’, eh? (Insult courtesy of Sadie.)

I looked at him closer. Yep, brown streaks in dirty blond hair and green eyes. Not much to write home about. But his surfing moves…Cue amazed whistle. I felt Sadie nudge me.

“Oh, you have to admit, he is blush-worthy,” she whispered, sounding like an old gossiping lady. I let out an exasperated sigh.

“I take it that means you’re with them,” I frowned. Sadie nodded vigorously. “One day, your boyism is going to get the better of you,” I warned, pointing my finger in her face. She laughed.

“Yes, and when you’re a spinster, I’ll be spending cozy nights with my husband in my picturesque house,” she cackled. I gave a gasp.

“I didn’t say I was a man-hater, Sadie,” I deadpanned, “I just am not as crazy as you. And FYI, I won’t be a spinster.”

“Oh, really?” Sadie gave me a playful shove, and ran off in the other direction. Boys, abs and single women forgotten, I raced after her, totally ignoring the strange look the ‘Leith boy’ gave me as we passed.

I caught up to Sadie, being the one with longer legs, quite quickly, and tackled her to the ground. Sadie gave a cry, and we both tumbled into the sand. It was a game of tag really soon, and by the time we reached the house, we were all dusty and white from the pearl colored sand.

“What happened to you?” Grandma Mimi asked, as soon as we walked through the front door.

“Sadie’s boy craziness,” I said, before my cousin could have a say in it. Sadie faked and shocked expression.

“Oh, Amaryllis, what a vulgar thing to say!” she exclaimed, and we laughed at each other. Sadie’s mom, Lauren, came into the living room, carrying with her a steaming plate of French fries and steak.

“Come on, guys, stop talking; let’s eat!” Lauren said, and we all followed her into the kitchen. The meal was pleasant. Sadie was sitting between her parents, Lauren and Jim. I sat to the right of Grandma Mimi, and to Nana’s left was Grandpa Philip.

I felt a little isolated from the cheery atmosphere Sadie and her parents radiated, when I felt a hand on my own underneath the table. Grandma Mimi patted my hand, and gave me an understanding smile. I answered her with my own grin, and continued eating my food.

I decided to take another walk at the beach; the little southern inlet I had discovered should be abandoned by the time we finished eating. My thoughts spun around aimlessly until Sadie snapped me out of it. Damn, this piece of steak wouldn’t stick to my fork.

“Hey, cuz!” she said, and clapped her hands in front of my face. I nearly catapulted backwards, but Jim caught my chair. I thanked him with a relieved sigh.

“What is it, Sadie?” I asked, and righted myself.

“Dad is going to drive Mom and me downtown. Do you want to come with?” she asked. I shook my head. I felt like I was intruding; besides, I didn’t really want to go that much. “You sure?” Sadie asked, for the second time.

“Positive. Go and have fun. I’ll just wonder over here,” I said, flashing a bright (fake) smile. Sadie gave me a weird look, and then shrugged.

“Your loss.”

She and her parents were out the door in less than a second, and I let my mask fall. Gosh, I always felt like I was meddlesome when I was around Sadie’s parents.

“Dear, why didn’t you go?” Grandpa Philip said, and started rounding up the plates.

“I didn’t really feel up to it,” I sighed, and helped him with the dirty dishes.

“It’s a beautiful day outside,” Grandma Mimi suggested, turning on the kitchen sink. The sink soon filled up with apple-scented bubbles and suds.

“I’ll just go for a walk down the beach,” I said, and piled the dishes into the sink. I gave a nod, and left, closing the door gently behind me.

Grandma Mimi exchanged glances with her husband, and shook her head in my direction. “You used to be bonded to the ocean closely, Amaryllis. Please do not lose your spirit…”

But, of course, I didn’t hear that, so I kept walking along, not too merrily. I was in a bit of a sullen mood. I walked to the south of the beach until I came to the inlet I had discovered. It didn’t have much water, but it was a small corner of the island that I could claim as my own. I sat down in the sand, and toyed with it a little bit.

The sun hid its face behind gray clouds. This only made my mood dampen further. I let out a sigh, and crossed my legs. I looked down at my right thigh, and wished I hadn’t. Whenever I see the inside of my right thigh, I flinch. I straightened my foot out, hiding the ugly scars away from my sight.

It was too late; images were flashing before my eyes. Being dragged underwater, a crimson cloud gently rising above me, veiling the world in scarlet. The sun sparkled tantalizingly just above the surface, telling me of the world above the surface of the water.

I remember the splinters of my surfboard floating around me in crazy patterns, and my eyes stinging from the impact of jaws on my right foot.

I shook my head. What was wrong with me? I used to be one of the best surfers on this part of the island, and now I couldn’t go as much as two feet within the range of saltwater. It made me simply want to cry. Cry and cry everything away. I had tried doing that with my parents. Didn’t work so dandy, so I gave it up.

I brought my knees up to my chin, and buried my face in them. Bravo, Amy. You have just succeeded in making yourself feel miserable in under thirty seconds. A new record, I thought morosely.

Yeah, one of the best surfers. My family couldn’t get me away from the beach. Winter waves, summer waves, it made no difference. I always managed to squeeze some time for surfing no matter how busy I was.

What have I been reduced to? I wander the beaches, and ride my horse instead. I don’t swim in the summers anymore. I simply watch others having fun instead of taking the step and doing what I truly want.

I touched my right ankle, and my contact trembled at feeling of the chunk of flesh missing. That was a part of me that I’d never get back.

I sat on something hard, and fumbled around in my pockets. When I looked at the instrument, I smiled. It was small, but had a wonderful sound. My ocarina was the only link I had to my mother. I didn’t have the heart to play it now, no matter how quaint the little instrument looked in my hand. Lackadaisically, I put the ocarina back in my pocket and leaned backwards.

The sand was getting cold around me, a result of the sun hiding too long. The surface of the water didn’t look azure anymore; instead, it was a dark, silvery color.

If the sea were the reflection of my mood, it’d be spot on. I sighed, and ran a hand through my hair. Another link to my mother. Strawberry colored hair. Dad was Hawaiian, and I assumed he looked the part. I’d never seen him, and the memories I have of him are blurred – kind of like an aged tape.

Mother, on the other hand, died when I was barely two. Cliché, non? How? Heart failure. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve seen pictures of her, and Sadie is right when she says that we could have been mistaken for sisters. It’s true; I have the same steel, gray eyes. Sadie says I can pass for Frankenstein’s wife in the morning. That earns her a smack or two. Plus, who else in my family (which consists of black haired, black-eyed people) has strawberry blonde hair?! I feel like an albino in a group of brown rabbits.

There was this picture Sadie didn’t want to show me in particular, but I took it from her one night anyway. It was a photograph of my mother holding me, while sitting barefoot on the lawn. She looked so happy, it made my heart swell. And then, I remembered she was dead, and down my heart sunk again.

I was jerked back into the real world as a harsh wind blew some spray into my face. I blinked, and wiped away the stray droplets that had accumulated on my face.

“Are you alone?”

The tentative voice nearly startled me straight into the firmament above, but, being bound to the earth by the laws of gravity, I simply bolted upright; nearly cracking my neck in the process, I may add.

I looked up, and well, well, what do you know? That surfer guy Sadie had been drooling over at the beach.

“From what you see,” I replied, my voice dull.

“Oh…well, do you want any company?” he asked, sitting down beside me.

“Go ahead,” I gestured, but he had already taken his place. There was silence. I had no idea why the hell he had come, and I sure didn’t want any ‘company’. But, what’s done is done. I sized up the situation in my mind’s eye. Now, how to get away? Eh, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

“So…you like the ocean?” he said, getting more comfortable. I groaned internally. No, I traipse about the beach just because I feel like it.

“Yeah, I do,” I answered, slightly pokerfaced.

“Do you surf?”

“No.” The answer had come so fast I even surprised myself. He looked at me queerly, and laid back.

“Okay, then…Well, what’s your name?” he asked. Man, this guy was bold.

“Isn’t it proper to introduce oneself first when barging in on someone else’s privacy?” I said, restraining the urge to clench my fists.

“I guess you’re right,” he said, smiling. “The name’s Leith.”

“I’m Amy,” I answered. Unique name. I didn’t say that, of course. But yeah…since when do parents call their kid ‘Leith’? I mean, wouldn’t it make sense if they called him ‘Leif’ instead? Ah, well, can’t think about all these useless things all at once. My poor head will burst.

The wind brushed past us; a few strands of straight hair fell from my shoulders, and his brown blond fringe was blown backwards, exposing his green eyes. I stared at him for a while. Nah, I was right when I said nothing to write home about…okay, you got me. He is little cute, but I’m only grudgingly admitting that.

“Do you like what you see?” Leith said, a smile tugging at his lips. My jaw set. Not a good sign.

“Arrogance is never a good thing,” I reminded him, and turned away. I looked at my watch. Wow, time flies when you’re despondent. I needed to go back and get Dante out for a ride in the afternoon and get him back in the stables in time for his nightly meal.

“Gotta go,” I said, jumping up. Maybe I was sounding too eager. Heck, I didn’t care. I was getting away! I took a step forward, and he grabbed my wrist. “Hey!”

He looked down at his own hand, like he wasn’t sure he had just done that. “Sorry,” Leith mumbled, and looked downwards.

“S’alright,” I said, and walked away, adjusting my flip flops so I didn’t trip and fall flat on my face in front of him. Especially in front of him. Don’t get my wrong, the guy seems nice, but I got the ‘I’m full of myself’ vibe from him. I tend to stay away from people like that.

The wind blew in my face, carrying a very tantalizing scent with it. Here in Waikiki, almost everyone knew everyone; it was a pretty tight-knit community. That could be a bad or a good thing, depending on the situation. The downside, rumors and gossip spread like wildfire. On the upside, though, everyone was like one big family. I enjoyed that a lot.

I screeched to a stop in front of Mrs. Koena’s stall, intently eying the freshly baked mango bread. Mrs. Koena came out, her hair in a neat bun at the base of her neck. She looked was a little older than Grandma Mimi…basically, Mrs. Koena has been there ever since anyone can remember.

“Why, hello, Amy,” she said, her voice raspy. How does she do that? She remembers every single customer’s name.

“Hi, Mrs. Koena! Could I have a slice of mango bread?” I asked, looking hopeful. Mrs. Koena cackled (in a good way), and gave me a slice.

“I’m spoiling you, though, Amaryllis. Now, off with you, before I charge you twice the price of that bread!” she laughed, her eyes disappearing in smile wrinkles. I gave her my own appreciative grin, and then I was on my way.

I ran back to the house (I’m doing a lot of that today), and flung open the door.

“Hi, darling,” Grandpa Philip said. He was anchored in his main spot on the couch, with another coffee latched in his hand.

“I’m taking Dante out for his evening ride,” I informed him, and Grandpa Philip simply slurped at his coffee. “Grandpa, how many coffees have you had today?”

He looked at me as if I was accusing him of something, and then his eyes flashed with guilt. “This is the third.”

I gaped at him. Not even Sadie could have that much without going completely hyperactive.

“But it’s decaf,” he said, taking another gulp.

“It’s just as bad as alcoholism. You want caffeine? Have tea instead. It’s healthier, too,” I said, and bounded upwards for the fourth time today. Well, I wasn’t completely sure that tea was healthier, and it did have more caffeine than coffee…Oh, well. I put on my ankle boots and took my helmet with me.

Down the stairs I go again, and out the back door. I trek towards the right, and open a door into the small building, which leads to the two stalls we have on our property. I pass the small corral, and walk into Dante’s stall.

I love Dante; he’s of my best friends. I got him when I was thirteen, and Dante was now four years old. A very lively, black, Friesian gelding, and almost as crazy as me. He was spunky, and had a bit of an attitude when I first got him, but I eventually warmed up to him as surfing faded away from my life.

Dante shoved his face into mine, attacking my cheeks with tickly whiskers. I snorted in laughter, and soon I was going into hysterics. I gasped for air, and slid the halter above his ears. He grunted in pleasure, and chewed a bit of my hair. I snatched it away from him, still getting my breath back.

“My hair isn’t hay,” I repeated, this time aloud. Dante didn’t understand, obviously, and kept chewing on my hair, obliviously. I grabbed it and tied it into a ponytail frustratedly, jamming on my helmet afterwards.

The next two minutes were a battle of wits. Dante dodged as I tried to put the saddle on him, and when he didn’t stay still, I tied him by the halter to the door of the stall and tacked him up without any hassle. He looked like he was pouting, but I knew that he was enjoying this.

I swung myself into the saddle, and yet again, felt a bit ‘on top of the world’ when I saw the view. Dante was tall, about fifteen or sixteen and a half hands tall. I urged him into a walk, and he complied, if not willingly. Dante was the complete opposite of me. He liked to canter through his surroundings whilst I liked to take my time and relax.

Yet again, I was drawn down to the sea, and Dante obliged. He trotted over the sand, leaving deep impressions in the soil. The edge of his black tail was coated with little granules of sand, and he flicked it, dispersing the flakes hither tither.

“I didn’t take you for the type to be horseback riding,” a voice said.

Schizzle my nizzle, does this guy follow me around?! I scowled, and turned in my Western saddle. “Do you take pleasure in stalking people?”

He looked a little stupefied for a moment, and then regained his equanimity. “No…I just came here to surf.”

I mentally slapped myself. Duh, idiot. You’re next to the sea. I refused to let him see my own stupidity, so I just hardened my face and gave him a straight answer. He shrugged, and seemed satisfied. Then, he turned around and careened straight into the rolling waves of the ocean. A small wince escaped me, but I turned Dante around and galloped down the shore, his hooves kicking up dust devils.

I was frustrated. With myself, with Leith’s confidence and assurance about the water, with my parents, and anything I could think of. Dante seemed a little uneasy, so I leaned over and patted his firm, black neck. He gave a small snort and slowed into a walk. I didn’t object. He calmly padded through the small dunes, and I retreated into the swarming thoughts of my brain.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” someone shouted. I was thrust out of my reverie, and suddenly, I was looking down at that pushover (literally), Scott. Dante was a little flustered at the magnitude of his voice, and he jerked backwards involuntarily.

“Look, it’s the jerk who pushed me into the water,” I commented, mostly directed at Dante.

“It was an accident, okay?” he fumed; it looked like he was walking down the way I came from. I gave a small sigh.

“You didn’t seem to think so at that moment,” I said, softly. Scott frowned, and continued walking. He muttered incoherently as he passed by me and Dante, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

I clicked my tongue and gave Dante a nudge, and we were galloping down the fringe of the beach again. The afternoon was clouding over further, and I was thinking about this morning, trying to figure out what the forecaster said this morning about the weather. Damn the morning haze. I can never seem to walk straight early on in the day.

How I haul my ass to school is a wonder during the school year. The memory is still blurred in my mind, but I vaguely remember something about ‘heavy rain’, and ‘exceptionally strong winds’. Great. And I had to take Dante out now.

Dante loped his way up the hill and onto the roadside, his hooves clattering on the asphalt. I turned around once again, and looked out to the sea where I could see two black specks swimming. Idiots… I thought, like I had in the morning. It was going to start raining soon, anyways, from what I had gleaned from my memories, so it’d be best if I started to head back now.

A huge roll of thunder cut off my thoughts, and on instinct, I spurred Dante into action. He leapt across the road to the other side, and I turned him in the direction of home. A flash of lightning forked through the sky, and I felt Dante’s breathing turn erratic.

Great. Absodabalutely – freakin - great.