Pumpkin Roll (48 page)

“Years ago,” Sadie said. “In Waikiki, when my children were younger.”

“I’m not sure that even counts,” Konnie said with a tinkling laugh. Her wide smile fit perfectly in her round face. Her black hair was in one long braid down her back, only a few curly tendrils framing her face. “Everyone knows Oahu has the worst snorkeling in the islands. Here on K’auai, on the other hand, it’s amazing.”

“I can’t wait,” Sadie said, but her tone was flat. She felt guilty about lying. She was still trying to figure out why she had come. She didn’t like boats or sand or swimsuits, but she’d accepted Konnie’s invitation simply because she’d refused most of the others Konnie had extended on behalf of the Blue Muumuus, a group of local older woman similar to the Red Hat Club Sadie had seen in her hometown of Garrison, Colorado.

“The weather is perfect today,” Konnie continued. “And the tide is just right. You won’t believe the variety of coral you’ll be able to see.”

Sadie nodded, peering over the side of the boat with trepidation. Coming to K’auai was supposed to cure the anxiety that had overwhelmed her after what happened in Boston. Despite three months in this tropical paradise, however, Sadie was no better than she had been before. Only more isolated.

The water was clear enough that she could make out the shape of the coral beneath the shifting surf, but it was unnerving to think of the world hiding beneath the surface of the water. When Sadie had come to Hawaii before with her children, she hadn’t been a big fan of being
in
the ocean, but her
displeasure
then was nothing like the terror she felt now. But she was determined not to let her anxiety get the best of her in front of this woman who was trying so hard to be Sadie’s friend, so she swallowed her fear and forced a smile.

When Sadie had moved into the condominium complex almost three months ago with plans to stay awhile, Konnie had immediately befriended her. She didn’t even care that Sadie was a
haole
—Caucasian—or that she was a newcomer to an island not always open to mainlanders. Konnie was big and loud and wonderful in every way, which was a little bit scary to Sadie right now. Well, everything was scary to Sadie right now.

“It’ll be fun,” Sadie said, but she could feel her sweat glands kicking in despite the breeze that whisked away any rising temperatures. They were only a quarter mile offshore, not far from a small village too far north to be frequented by the tourists who flocked to the southern part of the island, and too underdeveloped to be attractive to those who sought out the North Shore. It would have been a beautiful drive coming up here from the town of Puhi, where Sadie was staying, if Sadie had been able to focus.

“I’m going in,” Konnie said, getting to her feet and causing the boat to rock back and forth. Sadie forgot to breathe until Konnie sat her voluptuous self on the side of the boat and the rocking evened out. “You can lower yourself in if you’d rather not jump.”

A moment later, Konnie put on her mask and fell backward over the side just like an islander who had spent half her life in the ocean—which was exactly what she was. The ensuing wave caused by Konnie’s entry made the boat rock more than ever, and Sadie clung to the side with both hands. Konnie surfaced moments later and yelled for Sadie to jump in. “One of the tour companies brings tourists out here around noon—time’s a wastin’.”

Sadie nodded, hoping she looked confident as she sat on the side of the boat and let her legs dangle over the water. She chose the side opposite her companions—Konnie and five other members of the Blue Muumuus—so that if she freaked out once she hit the water, the boat would hide it from their view. She could then join them once she was sufficiently recovered.

“You’re okay,” Sadie said to herself under her breath, eyeing the water and keeping her breathing even as she double-checked the clasps of her life jacket. She was the only woman who had chosen to wear one. “You’ll be just fine. You’re the youngest and spryest woman here. You can do this.”

She looked over her shoulder, where six backs bobbed in the water, the tubes of their snorkels looking as though they were poking out of their heads. The stillness of their bodies bothered her, and she looked away, pulling on her mask and putting the mouthpiece of the snorkel in place. Another deep breath filled her with just enough courage to finally plunge into the water. She hadn’t considered that the snorkel would fill with water, though, and so her first attempt at breathing was salty and wet. She headed for the surface and spit out the mouthpiece and the water, coughing and sputtering. Her heart was racing, and she felt a wave of nausea as she gripped her life jacket with both hands and went to work convincing herself she wasn’t drowning. After taking another minute to get her bearings, and berating herself for being so dramatic, she put the salty mouthpiece of the snorkel back into her mouth. She practiced breathing through her mouth for another minute. Maybe four.

Konnie rounded the boat, her mask pushed up on her head. “Are you okay?”

Sadie gave her a thumbs-up, took a deep breath, and put her face in the water.

The coral reef was full of fascinating shapes, colors, and textures. Grasslike anemones swayed as though blown by a breeze. The water was clear enough that she could see every detail of the scene below her.
It’s beautiful,
she told herself as her heart rate increased.
Ethereal. Amazing.
And yet her lungs wouldn’t allow her to draw a full breath. She watched a parrot fish lazily moving a few feet away as though she weren’t there. But she was there. In their world, trying to appreciate the resplendence while battling a full-fledged panic attack due to the fact that their world was completely creepy! Some of these things were poisonous, and there were certainly creatures lurking at the bottom ready to pull her to the depths and never let her go. She’d seen
Finding Nemo.

After only ten seconds she had to lift her face out of the water. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t subdue the terror. But with her head lifted, she was aware of her feet now being even deeper in the water. She tried to pull her feet up, but would that really deter the horrible sea monsters lurking beneath her? She’d seen that movie about the surfer who lost her arm to a shark. What did she look like from the bottom of the sea? A Hostess cupcake like in the commercials? She spat out the mouthpiece and tried to inhale, but it was as though her throat was no longer connected to her lungs. She couldn’t get the air in. Why not? What was wrong with her?

She turned toward the boat, knowing she had to get out of the water. Once she reached the side, however, she couldn’t figure out how to get in. The rim was too high for her to grab onto. Her gasps for breath were ragged, noisy. She couldn’t see any of her group. What if she passed out in the ocean? Would the fish eat her before anyone discovered she was gone?

You are being ridiculous,
she told herself, ripping off her mask in hopes it would help her breathe. Over the last few months, she’d read several Internet articles about how to recover from anxiety attacks. None of the advice had talked about being in the ocean, but she clutched the sides of her life jacket even tighter and closed her eyes, trying to pretend she was simply resting on a punctured water bed. Her lungs opened up again. She took long, deep breaths and tried to clear her head. She felt oxygen returning to her brain and felt her body calming down.

Then something touched her foot, and her eyes flew open in renewed panic. She found herself thrashing toward the shore.

She had to get out of the water.

That the boat was right there and Konnie or the other women would certainly help her get in it didn’t cross her mind until she was crawling onto the sand, coughing and sputtering, desperate to get away from the water. The sand turned from wet to dry and was littered with sticks, rocks, broken shells, and pieces of deformed plastic the tide had left behind. This wasn’t one of the groomed beaches where machines cleaned up the shoreline before the tourists woke up. It was natural and messy, and her hands and legs were coated with sand as it stuck to her wet body. Something cut her knee, reminding her that she should stand up. But she didn’t want to do anything that would slow down her escape.

Finally, she collapsed, the bulky life jacket keeping her face out of the sand as she once again focused on breathing like a normal human being. It felt like forever before she felt safe. Then her thoughts turned to how she would apologize to her new friends who must think she was absolutely bonkers. She wasn’t so sure they weren’t right.

The nightmares that had plagued Sadie in Garrison had led to insomnia and too many late-night infomercials that provided her with more kitchen gadgets and exercise equipment than she could ever use. When her friend Gayle, her son, Shawn, her daughter, Breanna, and her boyfriend, Pete, had sat her down for an intervention, they told her she needed to get away for a little while. Unwind. Relax. She’d been optimistic about the change of environment, and who wouldn’t want to go to Hawaii? But although she was no longer ordering useless items off QVC, she stayed inside most of the time, and the only people she interacted with were the Blue Muumuus. She slept through the afternoons and was up most of the night, double-checking the locks every hour. The only time she left the condo was to clean the additional seven condos in the complex that were rented out by the week. The housekeeping job was her way of paying rent to her friend Tanya, who owned the complex but preferred her husband’s ranch in Arizona this time of year.

“I need help,” she admitted out loud to herself as water dripped off her hair, which was now past her shoulders, longer than it had been in decades. Before leaving Garrison, she’d had her stylist lighten it in hopes that she’d have more fun as a blonde. But she hadn’t kept it up, and the color had faded to a brassy grayish-yellow. Two inches of gray roots had grown out since her arrival. The climate seemed to accelerate how fast her hair grew, and she lacked the courage to go to a salon. Most days she tied her hair back with a bandana and avoided mirrors.

Her senses began reorienting her to where she was, and she could hear the wind though the palm trees around her and the chirp and buzz of a million critters. The admission that whatever she was dealing with was more than she could handle on her own washed over her and filled her with both fear and relief. “I need help,” she said again, wondering if it would be more powerful a second time. It held the same heavy certainty. She
did
need help, and she needed it soon. Things had happened to her, scary things that were obviously taking their toll on her mental health. She needed to get back to who she once was; she needed to feel whole again. While she regularly talked to her family and friends, she’d kept how bad things were to herself. She didn’t want them to worry. What would they say if they knew the truth?

Finally she opened her eyes and flipped onto her back, staring up at the blue, blue sky and wondering how her life had gotten so out of control. Control had always been Sadie’s foundation. It had gotten her through her husband’s death more than twenty years ago. It had helped her raise her two children by herself. It had led to her being involved in several police investigations. But she’d lost her confidence in the wake of Boston, and her world had been spinning out of control ever since.

She got to her feet and looked out at the water that seemed so innocent now that she wasn’t in it. The Blue Muumuus were back in the boat, coming toward her, and she felt overwhelmed by embarrassment and shame while grateful she wouldn’t have to consider swimming back to them. They had always been so kind to her, and she had so little to give back. Now she’d ruined their adventure. Konnie waved her arms, and Sadie waved back to indicate she was all right. The salt water was beginning to dry the sand to her skin, making her feel gritty.

A small boat dock had been built into the rocks along the beach, and Sadie headed toward it so that the boat could pick her up. The floating dock moved gently beneath her feet when she stepped on it, and she froze for a moment, afraid she might fall in.

Konnie pointed the boat in Sadie’s direction, and Sadie walked slowly down the weathered boards, dreading the explanation of her bolt to the shore. What could she tell them other than the truth? Hi, my name is Sadie, and I’m losing my mind. Congratulations on winning front-row tickets to the show.

When she reached the end of the dock, she waited for the boat like a penitent child, watching the water lap against the sides of the wood, black with barnacles and other sea life that gave Sadie the chills. Long strands of dark seaweed flowed alongside, like the hair of a mermaid from some long ago fairy tale. Sadie watched it move, looking so fluid and graceful, and tried to draw calmness from its easy motion. After a few seconds, however, she realized the seaweed was black, not green. Despite her misgivings, she bent down to get a closer look into the water and was soon on her knees, peering at the underside of the dock, where what she thought was seaweed was actually hair connected to a human head.

Scrambling to her feet as fresh panic descended like a hammer, Sadie screamed for help at the same moment that she lost her balance and plunged headlong into the sea that had already claimed one victim.