Soul Heist - The Missing Mentor

Chapter 2 - Popup Cinema

During the three hours on the rusty old shuttle bus, Danian had time to ponder the Balinese gods he'd learnt about over lunch with Kavi. The locals believed in them as he believed in surf forecasts: You'd mostly get what you expected, but sometimes they were in for a surprise.

He jumped off at Ecco beach in the south of Bali. Easily one of the hippest parts of the island. Danian stretched his limbs and untwisted his spine. His back hurt from falling asleep, crammed between bags and legs. The latter had belonged to Marionette, the cute French surfer.

The shortboard under his arm, wearing a long navy-blue surf poncho covering his trunks, Danian steered straight to the beach bar. A mixed young crowd of locals and tourists let the day end with sundowners and chill out music blasting towards the sea. After a bit of cheeky banter with the Balinese girl behind the bar, Danian got a Mexican beer. A lime wedge perched on its tip. Mindlessly, he popped it down the neck of the bottle. A seemingly benign incident that caused a chain reaction with life-changing consequences.

First, bubbles formed, then foam thrust out of the bottle and poured over his wrist. The bartender chuckled, and Danian swung around, slightly embarrassed. It was in that sweeping motion that he saw her for the very first time.

The girl in question stood maybe two metres apart from him, breathtakingly beautiful, her flower-printed summer dress loosely flowing down to her ankles. A gust of wind blew in from the sea and wrapped her dazzling dress neatly around her slim body, her curves luring Danian like the perfect wave. The outlandishly orange-red melange of the setting sun gave her an angelic aura. As she pushed a strain of her long, curly red hair back behind her left ear, she briefly smiled at him.

"They burn the bloody forest again, those creeps," a voice said next to him.

Danian looked to the side to see a slim guy in a tank top. "What?"

"Why do you think it's so red? It's the ash carried over by the wind from Borneo. They burn the freakin' jungle to create more sodden palm oil plantations."

Danian turned back again, not in a mood to vent over the irresponsible practices of globalisation.

But like a mirage, she was gone.

He bit his lips. How could he let her get away? You fool, croaked a voice, this time in his head. Maybe she hadn't been there in the first place, and he'd just dreamed her up?

Danian let his glance wander to the sea, watching the mellow waves for a while as he strolled along the beach. Far ahead, gloomy in the dusk, he saw an elephant emerging from the sea. Anywhere in the world that would have been an unfathomable sight but not in Bali. It was a magical place. The island of gods. And one ginger goddess.

Not far from the bar, a popup cinema had been set up, right on the beach. Hand-painted posters advertised the latest Star Wars trilogy. Tonight, they screened The Last Jedi. Perfect choice! Danian had probably seen it five times already but didn't mind making it half a dozen. Several rows of bean bags were neatly lined up in front of a sizeable screen. And there, in the second row, he spotted the girl who'd just turned his head upside down with a single wink of her almond-shaped eyes. She shared her bean bag with a pretty local girl in baggy jeans and a black tank top who wore an orange bandana around her upper arm. The bean bag left of the two girls was still empty, which Danian interpreted as a sure-fire sign from the universe.

When you found something beautiful, hang on to it; you never know how long it lasts. That was what his mum used to say, melancholically, when she flipped through one of their old family photo books.

But what did that mean for him? Should he just walk up to the girl? What was he going to say? Danian looked up into the sky, where he saw the faint image of a rising moon—a romantic setting. But doubts prevailed. He felt a lot more confident on a ripping surfboard than with solid ground on his feet.

Yet, every tantalising ride started with a small step.

He took a deep breath, dropped his backpack and surfboard in a designated area filled with boards and beach bags, then slandered nonchalantly over to the empty bean bag. And cannonballed into it, which was silly in hindsight. The bag practically swallowed him. He managed to climb out, stretch and look for any reassuring reactions. The redhead looked slightly startled.

"Hey bro, what do you think you're doing?" A deep voice barked.

Danian turned to see a big, burly guy with security written all over him, squeezing through the row towards him. Twenty seconds later, just shy of getting his butt kicked, Danian was escorted to a ticket booth. He obediently queued. In front of him were two girls. And a drone that had just swooped in, hovering chest-high in front of him with a credit card dangling from a clasp. What freak would send a drone to buy tickets?

Strange world, thought Danian, whilst keeping an eye on the bouncer. He got momentarily distracted when his princess and her friend were kidding around with a young local boy who passed through the rows selling popcorn—four bags to the two girls alone. On top, he earned himself a set of high-fives and fist bumps. Not surprisingly, he left the scene with glowing eyes and most likely a more favourable impression than Danian had pulled off. A glance over to the bouncer revealed why such a business endeavour that most certainly lacked registration or licensing was condoned. The big guy shoved one of his bear-like fists loaded with popcorn into his mouth.

When Danian focused again on the task at hand, he found himself right in front of the abandoned ticket booth. A handwritten note on display read Sold out. He clawed his nails into his hair, looked up and down the beach before dashing after the ticket girl. Likely experienced with overly committed Star Wars fans, she didn't call his motives into question when he explained with the urgency of someone reporting a drowning victim to a lifeguard that he'd to get a ticket for the screening. No matter what. In fact, she simply pointed in the direction of a Japanese guy with a drone hovering above the most humanly possible messy hairstyle ever.

"That wacko bought the last two tickets."

Danian didn't hesitate and ran over to the guy. The rock music that blared out from his outsized headphones grew louder with every step. Danian had to tip him on the shoulder to get his attention. Hesitantly, he pulled his headphones down.

"Hey, mate. Saw your fancy drone." Danian pointed into the air above his head.

The boy hesitated. "Ok."

"Well..." Danian was wrecking his brain how best to connect. It would've been easy if the guy held a board under his arm. The surf was pumping today. Still stoked. How're you? But a techie? Hang on. Maybe there was an angle. "You don't take surf videos by any chance, do you?"

"Maybe."

"That's great," Danian exclaimed. "We can team up. I'm Danian. What's your name?"

"Naoto." He bowed ever so slightly. "Nice to meet you, I guess."

Danian slapped him on the shoulder and asked if he fancied a drink. On their way to the bar, he decided to inquire casually if Naoto was alone.

"What happened to your date?"

Naoto pulled a face. "The only ticket left was for a couple seat."

By the time Danian and Naoto fell into the oversized, extra-soft bean bag, they looked like old friends, so engaged was their discussion about their favourite movies. About midway into the film, stars sparkling bright in the night sky, Danian overheard the girls next to them fussing about the cold wind that had started sweeping along the beach. He immediately took off his poncho and leaned over to offer it as a substitute for a blanket. It was well received and earned him a grateful smile that made his heart melt like wax on a surfboard in the scorching sun.

Then the girl in the tank top briefly pointed at Danian's black t-shirt, her fingers adorned with fancy glow-in-the-dark nail polish. She leaned into her friends' ear, whispered something, and they giggled in unison.

Danian looked down his chest to see Star Wars in large white capital letters. He rolled his eyes and wanted to slap himself over the forehead. How come he'd totally forgotten about that shirt. What an untimely coincidence. From hero to geek in under five seconds.