Page 10 of Deck the Palms (An Annabeth Albert Christmas)
Ten
Just a reminder, ohana, that surfing is not a valid excuse for missing class! Catch all those waves on break, and see us back bright and early Monday morning!
NOLAN
The commute to North Shore Oahu was an adventure. I started by taking a bus from the base, then transferring to one heading to the North Shore area. I’d packed a small leather backpack with essentials for an overnight, but what had seemed sporty in New York seemed out of place here, along with myself. Not liking that thought, I let myself indulge in people-watching instead. My fellow passengers heading out of Honolulu included workers bound for the various North Shore resorts, thrifty tourists balancing stacks of luggage, students, and surfers toting boards that took up the aisle on the bus.
As we left Honolulu, the landscape changed rapidly from suburbs and strip malls to lush green scenery and small houses here and there. Then, almost like magic, the ocean appeared on my right, first little glimpses, then more frequent views and public beaches dotted with post-Thanksgiving tourists. And more surfers. Every colorful surfboard made me think of Merry, who was meeting me in one of the little towns along our way north. The weather changed too, windier and chillier, but the sun was out, the sky somehow even bluer than usual, and the day seemed full of possibilities.
The farther north we went, the more rural the surroundings appeared, simpler houses in pastel colors, none of the new construction with manicured yards like around the base. Curiously, there were tons of free-roaming chickens. At first, I thought one must have escaped from a backyard coop, but no, others kept cropping up, and when I exited the bus, there were several milling about like this was simply an average Friday in chicken land.
“Hey there.” Merry’s smile seemed warmer than usual as he greeted me. Barney sat by his side and also offered a furry greeting. “How was the trip? And are you hungry?”
“The trip was rather enjoyable. And I’m starving.” A particularly bold chicken walked right up to a group of tourists collecting their luggage from the bus. “What’s with the chickens? They’re everywhere.”
“They live here.” Merry shrugged. Barney also seemed disinterested in the barnyard fowl roaming around. “And if you find animals interesting, I have the lunch spot for you.”
“I’m intrigued.” I followed him and Barney to his car, where I stowed my bag next to Barney in the backseat. Merry drove us to a large, colorful collection of food trucks that had taken over an old sugar mill. We wandered a bit with Barney on his leash, checking out the different trucks, including one in an old-school bus, but when it came time to pick, Merry directed me to a burger place that not only had chickens lurking nearby but also several giant pigs. They were huge, way bigger than I’d ever pictured a pig, and surprisingly friendly, wandering between the picnic tables. Barney didn’t so much as bark, staying right at Merry’s heels. “Do the pigs live here too?”
“Yep. Don’t try to pet them.” Merry laughed, pulling me into the line for the burger place. “You want the loaded fries here. Trust me.”
“Carbs…” I studied the menu, not seeing many alternatives that would be virtuous.
“We’ll walk it off.” Merry was in a take-charge mood, and I was here for it, letting him order for both of us and relishing the results. Crispy fries. Melty cheese. Perfection. In the end, only a couple of fries were left for Merry to hand to Barney.
After we finished our food, Merry asked, “You wanna see the boys surf? Dad took them out earlier this morning.”
“Yes! I haven’t seen the beach much since I arrived.”
“That’s a travesty.” Merry shook his head, and given our present scenery, I was inclined to agree. I really should have been exploring more. He drove us farther north to a wide beach populated with a lot of surfers along with families with kids in wetsuits toting smaller boards.
“Oh my gosh, yes, I should have visited way more beaches if they all look like this.” I gazed off into the vast horizon, taking in the cloudless blue sky, the tawny sand, scrubby trees, and all the colorful people.
“It’s a bit of a hike to where Dad and the boys are, but it will be worth it.” Merry led us away from the bulk of the crowd, walking easily across the sand while I trudged along. Even Barney was faster than me, especially once Merry unclipped him so he could frolic on an open stretch of beach.
“Ugh.” I made an undignified noise.
“Walking on wet sand is easier.” He stepped closer to the ocean’s edge, and I followed, only to leap back as cool water touched my sandals.
“The water’s coming for me,” I yelped.
“Here, hold my hand.” Merry used a patient tone as he held out a hand. “Don’t want you drowning on my watch.”
“I won’t.” I meant that literally, but I instinctively knew he would never intentionally hurt me or let harm come to me.
“Dad! Mr. Bell!” The twins raced across the sand, followed by an older version of Merry with white streaks in his blond hair and more wrinkles on his tanned skin.
“Nolan, this is my dad, Ari.” Merry made the introductions.
“Welcome!” Ari had a big, booming voice. Where Merry was long and lean, his father had more of a barrel chest and broader torso, but they had the same mischievous grins as the twins and the same captivating eyes. “Are we going to get you on a board?”
“I doubt it.” Merry cast a skeptical eye over me. “A boogie board, maybe?”
“I’m happy to just be a spectator,” I said brightly.
“Okay, you watch us. You too, Dad.” The boys dashed after their grandfather, picking up surfboards and paddling out into the ocean farther than I would have thought feasible.
“Wow. This is incredible. Look at them swim.” And if I thought the feat of swimming was remarkable, the boys and their grandfather actually stood up on the boards, catching a wave and riding back toward us. “And surf!”
“You’re almost more fun to watch than the boys.” Merry chuckled.
It hadn’t escaped my notice that despite the fact that we were now seated on the sand, a safe distance from the edge of the ocean, he continued to hold my hand. His hand was warm and solid against mine, giving me a cozy feeling that started in my stomach and radiated outwards.
After the boys did a few more rounds, the twins rushed back toward us, wet, sandy, and happy with broad grins.
“Can we show Mr. Bell Pop-Pop’s house?” Ryder’s chin jutted out like he was prepared to beg.
“That’s the plan.” Merry tussled Ryder’s hair.
“And you can call me Nolan when we’re not at school,” I added.
“Cool.” Ryder’s eyes went wide, evidently liking this privilege. “I’m riding with you and Mr.—Nolan.”
“Okay.” Merry took charge of the boys’ boards as we all made our way back to the parking lot. Merry’s dad and Legend loaded into a battered Jeep while Ryder rode with us and Barney.
Merry’s parents lived right off the main road, behind their Silver Surfer shop. The shop looked older than the house beyond it, perhaps 1960s in origin, but both appeared to have been added onto in random decades in haphazard ways. The property had a certain rustic charm. The side of the surf shop had a huge mural of a grandfather-aged person surfing, while the house was pale blue with white trim. Rather than the vague Mediterranean styling of Cara and Craig’s subdivision, the overall aesthetic could best be described as simple and beachy. Towels and swimsuits hung from a line in the yard that was more sand than plant life. Various yard ornaments in bright colors added to the eclectic vibe.
“Merry! Introduce me to your teacher friend!” A woman with a long gray braid with auburn streaks, wearing a hibiscus print apron over a swimsuit and cutoff shorts, came onto the porch.
“Geez, Mom. Give us a minute to get out of the car.” Merry gave a good-natured laugh before making a fresh round of introductions, complete with hugs from his mother.
“I heard you like pie.” Merry’s mom, Sharon, ushered us into her kitchen. Like the house, it reflected different time periods between mismatched appliances and counters, but there was an overall hominess I dug. And beyond the kitchen was a living room with not one but two indoor hammocks.
“I shouldn’t have told her you love pie because she made more today.” Merry shook his head fondly. “Hope you’re hungry.”
“I could eat,” I said gamely.
“Excellent.” An older man with snow-white hair leaning on a green cane with a parrot on top strode into the room. Despite not looking much older than Merry’s father and having the firm handshake of a much younger man, he was introduced as the grandfather of the family. He had a mischievous grin identical to the one Legend used. “You can call me Grandpa. I could eat too.”
Several pieces of lemon meringue, key lime, and pineapple chiffon later, I was stuffed to the gills. However, the boys dragged me for a long walk through the neighborhood, which was a mix of housing and stores, and down to the beach. The more I saw, the more I liked this little community. It was an entirely different feeling than I was used to, almost like landing on a different planet compared to Manhattan, but I liked it.
When we returned, Merry’s dad grilled us yet more food for dinner while his mother played classic rock and broke out a stack of board games. I liked his family immensely, so much that I almost forgot the question of where I was going to sleep.
“Can Mr. Bell sleep in the bunkroom with us?” Ryder asked after I’d let him and Legend win at a card game with a unicorn theme. Merry’s mother had given me a whirlwind tour of the house earlier. The bunk room was a long, narrow room on the first floor with two sets of built-in bunk beds on either side, enough to house a whole crew of surfers or a couple of rowdy grandkids.
“Nah.” Merry gave another of those easy shrugs of his. “He’s too old for bunk beds. He can share with me. Plenty of room upstairs.”
“Splendid.” Merry’s mother clapped her hands together, and I decided that perhaps I did believe in holiday miracles, especially if Merry’s room came with a door that locked.