Baja Zuma

Chapter 12

AMY'S P.O.V.

I woke up Saturday and immediately thought about the fact that it had been a Saturday a couple weeks earlier when Plattertones guitarist Paul had been on the hidden beach. I had a number of chores that needed doing, but when I broke for breakfast and for lunch I lingered at the table contemplating going back to the beach at the same time of afternoon as when he had been there, figuring he might make a regular routine of his beachgoing. The sky was overcast, but not threatening rain, and the westerly breeze was light.

Come mid-afternoon I committed myself to trying for a meetup with Paul. I utilized my recently acquired driver's license, getting in the car by myself, then dragging brakes to keep speed in check down winding Trancas Canyon Road, until my left turn onto the Pacific Coast Highway.

Two miles of driving the highway with residential subdivisions upslope to my left and the ocean and dun-colored sandy Zuma Beach to my right got me to Point Dume. Then it was uphill on the highway driving away from the ocean to the shopping center with its trailhead that would take me to the hidden beach. Before stepping out of the car I sang to myself a line from a song we had been performing in concerts, "I'm on a mission like Double O Seven."

I made my way on foot down the trail to the vegetated spot where Katherine and I had stood on my earlier excursion. I could see individuals walking on the sandy beach, as well groups of three or four going by as I stood watching. Twenty minutes went by, and I saw someone getting closer who looked like he could be Paul. Yes! He was here.

I glanced down at my white tube top and really short cerise shorts, thinking it was more revealing than what I normally wore in public, but then realized it was substantially more covering than what Paul had on, which like my last time at this place Katherine had taken to calling Baja Zuma, was nothing but a baseball cap. Thus reassured, I strode out onto the open sand of the beach in what I hoped was a casual manner that wouldn't look like I was trying to ambush Paul. Dani—"a classic ESFP" personality type, my psychology-minded sister Christina likes to say—was always urging us sisters to "Loosen up, live a little, don't worry so much." It was hard for some of us to take risks like Dani constantly did, so I think she would be impressed if she could see me now.

I steered my feet on a course over the beach sand to bring me to the point where it looked like Paul would arrive at in another half minute, trying not to look over at him in an obvious way, as though this were purely a chance meeting in time and space.

"Hey there, you look familiar," his friendly voice called out as he got within easy speaking-distance of me.

I stopped and turned toward him. "Oh, hey, you do too. Is it, uh, Paul?" I asked though I darned well knew who he was. I took off my sunglasses as if to scrutinize his face, but it was also to let him see the bronze eye shadow I apply once in a blue moon—special occasions only. My secret weapon.

"Yours truly. I'm in a band you've seen," Paul said.

"It's nice you recognize me," I said. "At your band's concert performances I sometimes see you look right at me." I had a sudden worrying thought and added, "I mean, unless there was somebody sitting behind me that was catching your attention. I hope I didn't misinterpret things."

"Oh, it's you I was looking at all right. I asked around and heard your name is Amy."

I smiled and got brave enough to do a quick scan up and down Paul's toned body. Did he blush at that, or had I not noticed his skin had already been reddening in the diffuse sunlight that penetrated the thin clouds?

"I am in a band too. With my sisters," I told him, and he nodded, making me think he already knew that about  me. He pointed toward the water and started walking in that direction. I kept pace at his side. To my surprise he reached for my hand, barely clasping it as if to give me a chance to pull it away if I didn't want to hold hands. But I did want to, and I gripped his hand tightly.

When we got to the ocean-wetted beach sand we stopped and talked about how our bands were doing, and then chatted about hobbies and interests for several minutes.

"I'm going for a wade in the surf," Paul suddenly said, letting go of my hand. "Do you have a swimsuit on underneath your outfit?"

"No, I didn't think to bring one. Didn't figure I would be getting wet today."

Paul walked out waist-deep in the water. We tried to continue our conversation, but the crashing waves made it hard to tell what was being said. I set my sandals and sunglasses on the dry part of the sand and took enough steps to get to calf-deep water. I still couldn't hear everything Paul said.

He cupped his hands around his mouth to yell out, "I'd hate to see you get those clothes wet!"

I'm sure I had that deer-in-the-headlights look for a moment. Then I made a brave decision. I walked back up to the dry sand to strip out of my clothes and set them down. I braced myself, then turned back toward the water and walked slowly toward Paul, just as naked as he was.

He held out both hands toward me. I clasped them and we smiled at one another. "I could fall hard for you, Amy," he told me.

I hummed the melody to the part of that song Paul sang with his band, the part that goes, "Never knew what a kiss could be," and  paused to see if Paul would take the hint.

In a heartbeat Paul hummed the next part of the melody, where the song continues, "until I kissed you." Then he broke his hands loose from mine, in order to put his arms around my waist. He pulled himself into me. His tall hard body slid down against my soft body until our faces were at the same level. He kissed my ear, then my cheek, and met my lips with his lips.

l didn't know if anybody else walking around the beach was watching us. Didn't really care. I enjoyed our closeness. But I couldn't stop myself from remembering that my band was unanimous about wanting to leave California and start fresh somewhere else, probably a thousand miles away.

Normally I don't like the feeling of kelp rubbing against me in the surf. But as a wave-propelled strand of kelp twined itself around the two of us, I felt there was something symbolic about it. We were after all forming a bond right here, embracing in the water. I resolved to say nothing about my family's impending move out of state. Let's enjoy this moment, I decided, and put out of mind for now any worries about where this was headed and how I was going to deal with it.

Live for the moment!