The Atua Man: A Novel

The following morning, Jason and David had raging hangovers. They had just finished washing down Mata‘i when Larry arrived. His car was filled with boxes of fresh food that would take them through the first ten days of their trip. The boys brought the provisions onboard and Larry gave them their orders for the day; stow all the food, grease the eggs – coating the shells with Vaseline kept the air out and preserved them for over a week without refrigeration – and had David catalog all the canned goods stored under the floorboards. David now saw the side of Larry that Jason had complained about. Wasn’t there already a chart that had been made when they’d first stowed the goods? There was, but Larry wanted David to make his own so that he would know where everything was in case they were in an emergency situation, and Larry suddenly needed a can of beans.

The boat was a mess. Jason was still greasing eggs. David had all the floorboards up in the cabin and half the cans out so that they could be put back according to type, something that hadn’t been done originally. In the middle of all this Byron arrived. He was right out of Miami Vice—silk shirt and pastel colored pants, loafers without socks, gold chains around his neck, and a tan that was as much from a salon as it was from the sun.

Larry introduced the boys to his brother. After their “hellos” Byron said, “See you tomorrow.” With that he disappeared.

Larry ducked back below and demanded, “What have you two been doing all day? I expected everything done by the time Byron arrived. Now he has to spend the night in a hotel. I want everything squared away by five o’clock so Byron, Helen and I can have our cocktails and watch the sunset. You two need to be gone by then, and don’t come back until after eight.”

As Larry stomped off the boat, the boys heard Byron say, “You said the fucking boat was going to be ready.”

“Well, excuse me,” Larry replied sarcastically.

The pals looked at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing. They had Mata‘i shipshape by early afternoon, and David took Jason’s car for one last tour around the island. He’d heard about a good Mexican restaurant in Haleiwa and needed one last fix before they sailed to the South Pacific.

Late that afternoon, as the sun approached the horizon and people gathered to watch the “green flash,” Jason and Lillian dined together at the at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel’s beachside restaurant. Jason couldn’t take his eyes off the surf. Lillian didn’t really mind. After a class like the one Elizabeth had just given, she loved that Jason could feel the silence and let her digest the new spiritual food she’d been feasting on. They both enjoyed being at the edge of the sand, under a pink umbrella, watching the people on the beach as if they were part of a grand play. People on holiday, especially in a resort like Waikiki Beach, seemed to forget that others can see what they’re doing. Perhaps they felt freer to do things they wouldn’t do at home because nobody knew them here. Sometimes Lillian and Jason would laugh at the same time, look at each other, and then back to the person who had caused their laughter.

A nice-sized set of waves carried dozens of surfers and outrigger canoes toward the sand. A beach catamaran also got a lift from one of the waves and raced toward shore. A crewman on the bow blew a conch shell horn and shouted for the swimmers to move out of the way. The setting sun turned the whole picture into a post card.

“Do you wish you were out there steering that catamaran into the beach?” Lillian asked him.

“Not really. When the waves are up and the beach is packed, it’s kind of hairy.”

After drinking in the scenery, Lillian said, “I couldn’t live here.”

“It’s too beautiful. All I’d want to do is sit around looking at the sea.” Lillian realized at that moment that she hated the sea. It had never been part of her life and if she were to lose the one she loved to the sea, it would be medieval.

Jason felt the mood change. “What about Mom’s book?” He hated always having his mother linked to Lillian.

“It’s coming along.” she answered. Lillian felt awkward. She was distracted by a very white family parking themselves on the sand in front of them. She wished Jason were truly free—free of Elizabeth, free of Larry, and free to be her lover. Yet she and Jason had not made love. “Your mom’s not a very good writer. She’s a wonderful teacher, but to put her teaching into a book is a challenge.”

“Will you be here when I get back?”

“I don’t know.”

“You think I’m being selfish, don’t you?” Jason said.

“You know how I feel.”

“Do you know how I feel?” Jason continued. “I don’t want to leave you, either.”

Jason looked away, out to the ocean, and Lillian sensed his dilemma. She took his hand. “I love you, J.J. Let’s get a room here. Who’ll know?”

And before he knew it, he was on the bed in the last room that the hotel had available that evening, waiting for Lillian to come to him. Was she as excited as he was? Jason wondered. He hadn’t expected Lillian’s spontaneity. Then he began to have second thoughts. Was this the right thing to do? Should they do this the night before his trip? But this was the only opportunity they had. For the first time he doubted himself. Lillian was his soul mate. He knew that, but he also knew he had to wait until the time was right for marriage. He couldn’t bind Lillian until he was fully prepared for their life together. Was he being fair? Would this night ruin everything?

Then Lillian walked into the room and into his arms. Everything changed. They explored each other’s bodies tenderly and completely. They couldn’t stop giggling. Jason took his time, making sure Lillian felt as much pleasure as he did. She opened a new world for him and took him where he hadn’t been before. They exhausted each other and awakened as new people.