let's go surfing now; everybody's learning how [Freddie]
[Dated 2-23-11]
Trixa had never worshiped the sun the way her brother did, but then he'd always been the odd duck of the family. In truth, she'd never really given the beach life a second thought, unless she was visiting Kimano - and then only to resign herself to the fact that she'd be sleeping on the sand unless she made other plans. Room service was not in her little brother's vocabulary.
But since coming to the island, she'd started to get a glimpse into that life that he'd loved. First during her daily early-morning runs (human metabolisms were a bitch) and later, after the island had given her a new year's gift (after she could look at it without wanting to break it). Pulling the windsurfing board and sail pieces from their blue nylon carrier, Trixa ruefully had to admit that the ocean had quickly become one of her few sources of solace. Trapped as she was, riding the waves was the closest she could get to flying. And being in the sun, feeling the wind on her skin, it was the closest she'd ever get having her brother at her side again. She could hear his laughter in the surf, the mischievous glint of his eyes reflected off the water.
I never would have managed this place without the joy you showed me, little brother. Which didn't mean that she wasn't planning on raising any hell, but it made the down time easier to bear. Speaking to the sand, she murmured her thanks to the dead, "Mahalo, Kimano. Mahalo nui loa."
With a smile, she finished laying out all the pieces before turning to her companion, standing a little way off.
"C'mon, Freddie. Lesson starts here. How are you with a screwdriver?"
Trixa had never worshiped the sun the way her brother did, but then he'd always been the odd duck of the family. In truth, she'd never really given the beach life a second thought, unless she was visiting Kimano - and then only to resign herself to the fact that she'd be sleeping on the sand unless she made other plans. Room service was not in her little brother's vocabulary.
But since coming to the island, she'd started to get a glimpse into that life that he'd loved. First during her daily early-morning runs (human metabolisms were a bitch) and later, after the island had given her a new year's gift (after she could look at it without wanting to break it). Pulling the windsurfing board and sail pieces from their blue nylon carrier, Trixa ruefully had to admit that the ocean had quickly become one of her few sources of solace. Trapped as she was, riding the waves was the closest she could get to flying. And being in the sun, feeling the wind on her skin, it was the closest she'd ever get having her brother at her side again. She could hear his laughter in the surf, the mischievous glint of his eyes reflected off the water.
I never would have managed this place without the joy you showed me, little brother. Which didn't mean that she wasn't planning on raising any hell, but it made the down time easier to bear. Speaking to the sand, she murmured her thanks to the dead, "Mahalo, Kimano. Mahalo nui loa."
With a smile, she finished laying out all the pieces before turning to her companion, standing a little way off.
"C'mon, Freddie. Lesson starts here. How are you with a screwdriver?"