Breathe me Home | NaNoWriMo 2016

Chapter 4

I'd almost forgotten about the beach. Dad and Ricky were already waiting for us at our favorite place. My favorite because it offered the most shade in the late afternoon. It was, however, nearly noon and the sun was high and hot. I can already feel my freckles multiplying like cells in a petri dish.
"Hey girls." Dad is shoveling sand into a plastic pail with Ricky. Both are deeply tanned and seem to consume energy from the sun.
I melt.
We plop down on the old quilt that has become our beach blanket. Mom doesn't believe in buying something that can be found laying around the house. Never mind that our beach blanket has patterns of cute country kitties and yellow birds printed all over it. Not very beachy.
Dad kneels down behind Mom to apply a layer of defensive shielding to her back and shoulders. She, in turn, is doing the same for me. We're like sunscreen applying Russian nestable dolls.
"Any luck with your project volunteer?" Dad still has a Montana drawl, if you could call it that. I could picture him riding alongside John Wayne is some western film, herding cattle out of Helena.
Mom shakes her head, her red hair now in a pony tail and swinging with the motion. "Nope. Our girl struck out. Bombed. Came up deuces."
Have I mentioned that my family has support issues? "Thanks, Mom. I don't get it. I was nice and polite. But nobody bought it."
The sunscreen bottle makes squishy noises as Dad squeezes another round into his palm. We buy them by the case. "Maybe you're trying too hard," he says.
Ricky is obviously bored with our conversation and wanders toward the water. He's a good swimmer. Navy brats have to be. And the water near Diamond Head is calm today. But Mom still issues her warning.
"Do not go into that water alone, Ricky!"
He turns and makes a face. Dad took him snorkeling last time, but that was in Hanauma Bay, where there's no waves at all and lots of coral. He came back with tales of multi-colored fish and a sea turtle. I had my doubts about the turtle. They were only out up to Ricky's chest.
"Ricky!" Dad calls now. "Come back here for a minute."
Well that's different. Dad never worries about his children drifting out to sea. "We can make more," he always tells Mom when she voices her concern. I'm pretty sure he's just kidding.
Ricky slouches back to the blanket. Our backs and shoulders properly slathered, Mom and I pass the bottle back and forth and take care of the parts we can reach. My one-piece suit covers most of my middle, but the one time I left my legs unprotected was a few days of torture I will never forget.
"Okay, family," Dad announces as he stands. This must be important. He takes a few seconds, his face scrunched up as he studies something out in the bay. Then he turns to us. "We have a decision to make."
We have a decision? It must be important. Ricky leans against me, suddenly interested in what Dad has to say.
"I spoke with your grandfather this week, Grandpa Harris." He shoots Mom a look. Her face darkens. I'm guessing they've already talked. "He's not doing well."
Grandpa? "What's wrong? Is he going to be okay?"
Dad frowns. "Hard to say. He's getting up there and his health in general has been failing. It's getting harder for him to run the ranch."
Grandpa Harris is like a rock in my world. He's a true cowboy. Tough as nails. Strong. How can he be sick?
A cool breeze blows in and I pull Ricky in tighter.
"I'm his only son," Dad says. "You're aunts don't want to be ranchers. I can hardly blame them."
Oh no! "Does this mean he's going to sell the ranch?" I can't believe it. I love that ranch. It's the home I dream about every night.
"That's one option," Dad says. "But there's another."
Three boys walk by our blanket, all carrying rented fins and masks. Dad waits for them to pass before continuing. "My enlistment ends this summer, in only three months. That gives me fourteen years in. Six more to retire." He pauses again. Is he sad? "I can reenlist and finish my twenty years, and hope that Dad can hold on for that long. Or..."
My heart speeds up. Something big is coming. I can feel it.
"...or I can leave the Navy and we can all move back to Montana and live on the ranch. It would be ours."
"What?" I practically screech. The people around us turn with curious stares. "We get to live on the ranch?"
Dad grins. "I see that's one yes vote. What do you think, tricky Rick?"
Ricky only stares at the water. "Can we go snorkling?"
"I'll take that as a neutral vote." Dad looks at Mom. "I know we've discussed it, but I want to hear it from you, hon."
Mom sighs. "You left the ranch to see the world. I don't think you're finished."
"But what do you want?"
She follows Ricky's stare out into the sea. "From the time I was eighteen, you've taken me to places I never would have had a chance to see. And now I'm living in Hawaii." Another long pause and a sigh. "But we have to think to the future." She reaches up and takes Dad's hand. "Let's go home."
My scream attracts the attention of the entire island.

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Thanks for those of you who are following Stacy's story. This is a very rough draft. I actually post it to Wattpad the moment I type the last word. So it will sometimes be painful to read (I know it is for me!). If you see something off or just don't like a scene, please tell me. Final novels change quite a bit from the rough draft, though the main story should remain intact. By the way, the scene above is from a beach near Diamond Head. It was one of my favorite places when I lived in Hawaii between 1969 and 1973. And yes, I did snorkel when I was five. I'll have to do some research to fill in some holes here, but I still remember it. Ricky, you'll note, would be my age at the time. And I loved Checkers & Pogo, which ran in Hawaii through the 60s and 70s. I even got to be on the show. Somewhere my mother has a photo. I'll have to dig that up.