Breathe me Home | NaNoWriMo 2016

Chapter 12

Okay, no one told me that I'd be signing up for shop class this spring. I've never so much as whittled a branch for roasting marshmallows. Before I can voice my protest, though, Uncle is speaking again.
"Let's get started." But instead of grabbing one of the tools off the shed wall, he leads us back outside. We walk past the car and out onto the road.
"Where are we going?" I say.
Uncle plods along the old asphalt road in front of us. "To get started."
Well okay then.
Jonas only shrugs as he walks beside me. Cars pass us as we stay to the shoulder. The sound of surf grows louder in my ears.
We don't travel far before we're at a beach. One I've never been to before. We cross a small dirt parking lot that holds a couple cars and one pickup truck. I glance at the windshields. No Navy base stickers. All locals.
Uncle climbs a set of stairs to the top of a small dune and we follow. The surf crashes and the wind hits us as we come into view of the ocean. It's different than the beaches Dad normally takes us to. It has sand and water, of course, but somehow, it looks more...
Natural. That's the best way to describe it. It's just beach. No snorkel gear rentals. No food vendors. Not a single beach umbrella. In the water, four or five guys float on surfboards, waiting for their next wave.
"Let's sit here." Uncle points to a spot where the dune slopes down toward the flat sand.
The three of us sit, the sand squeaking beneath our bottoms as we wiggle out a comfortable spot. And then we do nothing.
For five minutes, we watch the ocean and the surfers. They're pretty good. They take turns catching the waves and riding them until the wave flattens and they dive off their boards. No whooping or hollering like I've seen at the more popular beaches. It's like they do this every day and it's as much a part of their lives as eating and breathing.
Also, I notice one of the guys is actually a girl. She's surfs like the guys, maybe even a little better. But I may be a bit bias. Her tan skin and light brown hair glisten in the sun. She looks like she was born on a wave. But even when she has a great ride, she doesn't pump a fist or yell back at the guys. She just does it, then paddles back out, duck-diving under the incoming waves, and waits for the next ride with her friends.
After a few more minutes, I finally say, "What are we doing?" After all, I do have more homework to do. As much as I enjoy watching the surfers, I can't sit here all afternoon.
"Listening," Uncle says.
All I hear are waves. I glance at Jonas, who only shrugs. He's not much help.
So I shut up and listen to the waves. Watch the surfers. Figure out how late I'll be up doing my other homework.
After about an hour, Uncles says, "Okay. Lesson over for the day. Let's go home."
Lesson?
Jonas flashes a questioning look at Uncle. "Shouldn't we start on the board?"
Uncle stands and brushes the sand off his pants. "Always in a rush. We don't start on the board until we know what the tree is saying to us."
Talking trees. Great. My project is a crazy man.
The walk back to the car feels longer, but we get there and me and Jonas climb into the rumble seat.
"This was a bit weird," I whisper to Jonas once Uncle is in the driver's seat.
"He's always been a bit off," Jonas says. "To be honest, this is the first time I've really spent any time with him."
"But he's your uncle...I mean your real uncle, right?"
Jonas nods. "Yeah. But my dad doesn't much care for him. Uncle is my mom's brother. Much older brother. After she died when I was six, we didn't hang around the rest of the family much."
"Your dad's not Hawaiian?"
"No. He's from Ohio."
"You're kidding?" I tried to imagine someone living in the middle of the U.S. up and moving to Hawaii.
The engine fires to life.
"Nope." Jonas raises his voice. "He's a hotel manager. He came here to help start one of the big hotels in Honolulu, met my mother, and never left."
"How sad. I mean...that part's not sad. But she died so young."
"Yeah. And now he's managing a tourist hotel, which makes him not very popular with the natives. Including Uncle and that part of the family." Jonas grabs the side wall as the car bounces toward the gate.
The car stops and Jonas hops out to open the gate again.
I watch him as he swings it open. How sad to live in a place where your only reason for being here is no longer around. Was Jonas an outsider like his dad? Or does his Hawaiian half make up for his mainlander half?
It occurs to me that Jonas' dad, maybe even Jonas, is a lot like me.
Trapped in a place that you can't call home.

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Thanks for reading, guys. I wanted to pass along some exciting news. Scorpion Summer, the first book of this series, is under consideration for publication by a major publisher. Which means I've been busy going over that book all weekend to make sure I didn't miss any mistakes. I'll fall behind my NaNoWriMo word count, but that's okay. I'll keep you posted on Scorpion Summer's progress. The publishing industry moves slooooow, so don't look for it any time soon. But this is a big step for me! You guys helped, just by voting and leaving comments. You're my best beta readers. Thanks again and I'll get back on track with Stacy this week.