To the Depths of My Heart

Voyage

Tom and Cora arrived at the island in the late afternoon, exhausted with road weary eyes. Unsure if she knew or remembered how to operate a vehicle, Tom drove the entire way, stopping before the ferry dock only for a quick bathroom break at one of the rest stops along the highway where they stretched their legs, got free coffee from a kindly old woman who sat behind a cashier's-type window and relieved themselves. 

To their relief, the ferry was relatively empty, save the company of only a half-dozen of tourists and a handful of island residents. He wanted to stay in the car for the short voyage across the strait, but before he could make his wishes known, Cora was out of the car and heading up the stairs to the main deck. After climbing out of his seat and locking the doors, he followed her, calling after her to wait for him, his only answer from her was a giggle.

Cora was at the front end of the boat when he found her, her body pressed against the railing as she leaned over and watched the water as it broke against the hull. "It's so beautiful here," she exclaimed as she leaned back to greet him with a smile.

"Have you ever been up here before?" he asked before realizing that if she did, she had no memory of it.

She scowled. "At least I'm here now," she shrugged. The smile reappeared as she caught sight of a seagull as it drifted in the wind over their heads, a simulation of suspended animation as its extended wings held it in stasis with the ferry. Turning her attention back to Tom, she observed, "You feel a kinship with the sea, don't you?"

He nodded. "I do," he replied. "It's a second home of sorts. In fact, maybe more than that. More than my real home, at least."

"Tell me about your home," she prodded. "What was it like."

Tom chuckled. "Well," he sighed, "I loved my mum to death, but she wasn't the best mum." He explained to her the circumstances of his upbringing, trying his hardest top defend his mother. It wasn't until he got to Kama, though, that Cora showed any more than a fleeting interest. "Kama is the Father, Grandfather, Uncle, Brother, that I never had as I grew up," he acknowledged. "When all was said and done, he was my greatest mentor and and even greater friend."

"Have you called him?" She asked. "I mean, since we've been gone."

"I did," he replied with a smirk. "I called from the diner and told him about you. He told me to trust my lizard." The cryptic message from Kama made him chuckle and, in turn, Cora grinned. "I have no idea what that was about, but Kama, he's a bit of an eccentric old man."

She smiled. "He sounds like a wise old man to me," she said. "Did he really say 'lizard'?"

He shook his head. "Yes, but no," he shrugged. "He said mo'o, but that's Hawaiian for lizard."

Cora looked astonished. "I have a feeling he knows more than he's letting on."

"Yeah, me, too."

There was a queer way she looked at him, just then, like she knew something more to the story he told, like she was one of the narrators and he the only audience, clueless as to what was coming. When he raised his eyebrow at her in question, she only gave him a mysterious smile and shook her head in resignation. Her eyes stayed on him, though, studying him, moving over his features as though she was memorizing each divot, each pore, each fine like around his eyes that, given time, would deepen with each smile and each laugh with distinguish.

Tom watched her back, his throat suddenly dry as he swallowed. He could have sworn he saw the sea in her eyes, reflected back at his own, teeming with life. In his fascination, he stepped closer to her, bridging the gap between them that was already minimal. His movements were not his own, but rather the automatic responses made by a man under a spell. Magic, witchcraft, influence, motivated him and propelled him forward, animated his hands to reach out and grasp her shoulders, grip soft but firm, and pull her the rest of the way to him. And then his lips were upon hers, sweeping in a gentle motion, just barely grazing.