Heat Wave (13 page)

Alas, Logan clears his throat, a signal to keep going. And so we do.

And the trail starts to get a little more extreme. I would have thought that the parts where the trail follows the outermost near-vertical cliffs would have been the hardest for me. I mean, I get dizzy with great heights and there’s nothing but sheer drops for hundreds of feet until it meets the ocean. The roar of the wild waves smashing against the rocks far far below is deafening even from all the way up here.

But actually, the worst parts of the trail are when they switchback and head away from the coast. Here the jungle is the thickest, there’s a fine mist in the air, and everything is dripping with humidity. I don’t think these nooks and crannies get any sun to dry them out, and the path turns into a rust-colored mud bath. I watch Nikki eat shit and slip right on her ass, then Daniel almost do the same. The hikers up ahead of us also bail as they round a corner where the path disappears and becomes slippery rocks you have to scale over. I try not to laugh because I know that’s going to be me in a minute.

Everyone else is using the wooden poles to help them but I wouldn’t trust anything other than my own body, even as we come to a stream that cuts across the path, more slippery rock to navigate on both sides.

The last thing I want to do is fall, so I’m going as slow as I can, and while everyone is stepping over the rocks and sliding around, I’m using my hands to balance, going across like a crab. I don’t care if I look like a fool and my hands are covered in red mud, every part of me is a mess by now.

“Here,” Logan says.

I cautiously look up from the rocks to see him holding out his hand for me. I’ve paused on the top of one slick rock and have spent the last few minutes trying to figure how to get down without killing myself. I mentioned early that I didn’t have good balance, right? Well it’s really being put to the test here.

“Take my hand,” he says, more like an order than anything.

I want to push him away and insist I can do it myself. I think he knows that too, that’s why when I look into his eyes I see a wariness in them. He expects me to reject him.

So I don’t. I nod and give him my hand and put all my weight on him as I step down off the stone. When my feet hit the slick ground beneath, I slide but he’s got me. He’s as solid as a tree and he’s got me.

I blow a wet strand of hair off my face and look up at him. “Thanks.”

“No worries,” he says as he gradually let’s go of my hand. He then looks to Daniel and nods. “Keep moving. I have a feeling a system is moving in.”

Daniel and Nikki start moving up the trail as it heads back alongside the cliff, and to my surprise, Logan stays with me, walking just a foot or two ahead. I’m staring at the wall of his sweaty back, his shirt clinging to it. It’s a shame he’s not taking it off. I mean, that can’t be comfortable.

“How can you tell a system is coming in?” I ask. “Weather report said it was supposed to be partly cloudy. Least that’s what my phone said.”

“Never trust your phone here,” he says. “I can just tell. You pick up on the changes.” He breathes in deep and I watch his back rise, mesmerized. “Smell that? That’s rain. Somewhere up in Waimea Canyon, but it’s coming here and soon.”

“Well I don’t think this trail can get any more wet.”

“You’d be surprised,” he says just as my feet slip. I yelp as I reach out and grab onto his waist, my arms wrapping around him.

“Easy now,” he says, sounding amused.

I swallow hard and take in a deep breath, carefully moving my feet so I’m back upright. “That was close.”

“And if you fall, you fall,” he says. “If anyone gets back up, it’s you.”

There’s a strange tenderness to his voice but I’m not sure if I’m hearing things. My blood is whooshing in my ears pretty loud, my breath erratic. From the exercise, not because I just had a good feel of his abs, abs that felt as firm and hard as the rocks beneath my feet. Abs you wouldn’t mind running your tongue over.

“You’ll just have a permanent stain on your shorts,” Nikki yells over her shoulder. I snap out of it and look around Logan to see Nikki wriggling her tiny butt at us.

I laugh. “Well by the time this is over I’m pretty sure I’ll be covered in mud head to toe. I’m going to look like Rambo or something.”

“Rambo?” Logan asks. He stops suddenly which causes me to nearly run into his back, then he turns around. With a sly smirk on his lips, he reaches out for my face. I stay absolutely still, my breath in my throat, as he runs his cold, sticky thumbs under my eyes. “Now you’re Rambo,” he says rather proudly before turning back around.

I don’t need a mirror to know that he’s just rubbed red mud under my eyes like some tribal war paint. My skin tingles from his touch.

Fuck. That was an oddly intimate moment. I’m not even sure how to process that except give off a soft, albeit awkward laugh.

“Maybe I’ll clean off at the beach, I packed a bathing suit,” I say.

“
No
,” Logan, Daniel, and Nikki say in emphatic unison. It’s like I’ve just suggested we ride mountain goats on the way back home, clicking coconuts together with our hands.

“The number of people who have died at that beach is…well, you’ll see. There’s a marker,” Logan says.

“Even the stream crossing can be dangerous,” Daniel says from in front of us.

“We have to cross a stream?” I ask, feeling the panic swirl through me. “I nearly died back there on a bunch of wet rocks.”

“I’ll carry you across,” Logan says.

“You fucking better.”

He eyes me over his shoulder, frowning as always, though his eyes are twinkling.

The rest of the trail is a combination of the steep cliffs and stupendous views which I take a picture of every second, and those muddy, slippery switchbacks. It feels like we’ve been hiking forever and it’s not getting any easier. I’m about to complain and ask how much longer we have to go when I see a family with two young children march past us, the kids in goddamn flip-flops!

“Oh my god,” I say, breathless as we round yet another steep bend. “Flip-flops? Here? On the muddy death trail? Let me guess, they’re locals?”

Logan shakes his head. “Locals would rather do this barefoot. Easiest to trust your own toes. Those are tourists and they’re lucky they’ve gotten this far without incident. One wrong step, one slip at some parts, well, you’ve seen it. You’re dead.”

Sweet. I feel so lucky we get to do this whole thing over again on the way back.

“Almost there,” Nikki shouts from up front.

We round yet another bend and finally there’s a glimpse of a rocky beach way down below. In the valley below the mountains, clouds descending over the sharp peaks further inland.

“Are those clouds coming our way?” I ask Logan. Where we are, the sun is strong and hot as hell, turning the ocean a deep azure and making the red dirt glow.

He nods grimly. “They’re moving slowly right now but the weather is unpredictable. I’m afraid we’ll just have to look at the beach, have some water and turn back. Believe me, it’s not a fun hike in the rain.”

“It’s not a fun hike in the sun either,” I tell him.

“Here,” he gestures to a wooden sign that reads:

Hanakapiai Beach Warning!

Do not go near the water

Unseen currents have killed:

And then beneath it there are a bunch of notches marking how many deaths there have been. I’m quick to count at least eighty.

Eighty!

“Holy shit, eighty people have died here!?” I exclaim, looking at Logan.

He shrugs with a sigh and wipes the sweat off his brow. “Not sure how accurate the count is, but it’s a lot.”

“So tell me, why are we going to this beach?”

He gives me a half-smile. “Because it’s fun, Freckles.”

“Fun?”

He turns and starts walking as the trail starts leading downward. “Admit it, you’re having a fucking blast.”

I roll my eyes and hurry after him. The ridge we’re walking on is exposed to the sun, so at least there’s no mud. “Yeah, walking for nearly two hours, covered in mud and sweat, with dangerous cliffs, rocks, and now killer beaches, is a lot of fun.”

“At least you’ve been able to stare at my ass this whole time.”

And just like that my eyes trail downward. Because, yes, I have been staring at his ass when I haven’t been looking over the edge to my imminent doom.

“You wish,” I tell him. “You’re just mad that I had a good idea during the staff meeting.”

He stiffens a bit at that. “You keep having your good ideas and I’ll keep shooting them down.”

“You didn’t shoot the first one down about the seating by the window. And it’s worked.”

“I was just being polite with that one.”

“Yeah right. You being polite for the sake of being polite. Now I’ve heard everything.”

“Are you guys done bickering?” Nikki’s voice comes from down around the bend.

“Have you ever known me to stop bickering?” Logan yells back as we catch up to her and Daniel. “You guys call me the
habut
for a reason, I have to keep my reputation.” He glances behind at me. “By the way, you can still ride me if you like.”

My skin grows hot and it takes me a moment to realize what he’s talking about. Further down the path, where it finally levels out, is the stream.

It’s pretty wide but it doesn’t look too deep. There are a bunch of people already crossing it, including the family we saw earlier with the kids in flip-flops. They at least have the sense to take off their shoes as they hop across the rocks, while the mother wades into the water, about thigh high. I think that’s going to be my option. If I took either of the rocks, I’d slip and end up in the water anyway, and probably damage my phone.

“This is it,” Logan says.

“I’ll wade across,” I tell him.

He looks across to the woman who has reached the middle of the stream and nods. “If the stream was any higher I’d say no. You’d be surprised at the current. Especially with this wind picking up. Things change fast.”

I look at the water. It doesn’t look anything but inviting and I can see the current with my own eyes—it’s moving steadily but fairly slow, snaking past us until it meets a bunch of rocks at the end and drops down into a few more pools until it finally reaches the beach and spreads out for the ocean and pounding surf.

“I’ll take my chances,” I tell him, determined.

Nikki and Daniel hop across the rocks with ease, balancing only in the middle for a beat or two before arriving on the other side.

Logan is waiting for me.

“Go ahead,” I tell him as I undo my sneakers, taking them off along with my socks.

He grabs the sneakers and socks from me. “I’ll hang onto these.” Then he nods at the water. “I’ll be right behind you.”

I nearly roll my eyes. Nothing is going to happen. Even if I did slip on a rock under the water, I wouldn’t fall down. And even if I fell down, I wouldn’t be swept away in two feet of water.

Yet there’s some sort of reverence in Logan’s expression, so I take my time. And the rocks are slippery and hard against the soles of my feet.

But Logan is right behind me the whole way and I can feel him, tense and poised, as he follows me through the water, like he’s prepared to catch me at any moment. I hate to admit it but I kind of like the feeling, like I’m being watched over. Like someone cares.

I make it. It’s not as triumphant as when I finally got up on the surfboard, but it is a relief to know I didn’t make a fool of myself.

Once Logan comes across, walking through the water with ease, we head down toward the beach, a small stretch of sand and rock between two sheer cliffs. I can see why it’s so deadly. The waves are absolutely pounding the shore, scattering the rocks and boulders. The wind is picking up more, sending the sea spray flying.

We find a spot to sit down at the edge of the vegetation. I perch on an uncomfortable rock and bring my quinoa bars and fruit out of the backpack, letting my feet dry before I put my socks and shoes back on.

“Ten minutes, then we’re heading back,” Logan says before he downs a bunch of water. I watch his neck as he swallows until he catches me looking. I quickly avert my eyes back to the shoreline.

There’s a lot of people on the beach and since half the beach is being swallowed up by waves, it feels strangely crowded. Quite a few are down by the shore and few of them are almost swept away from a rogue wave that reached in further than anyone expected. They shriek and run away from the surf playfully, like they have no idea how close they were to being sucked out to sea.

“Holy shit,” I say. “Those people are crazy. Didn’t they see the sign?”

“Ignorance heeds no signs,” Daniel says, trying to retie his hair back into a ponytail, the wind making it difficult. “If they did, we wouldn’t have people dying here all the time. Have you heard of Queen’s Bath? Guide books won’t even post about it because of all the people who die there. People just don’t listen. They think the waves can’t be that big, the current can’t be that strong, that their swimming skills are better than the average person.”