Bluehour (A Watermagic Novel) Read online

  Bluehour (A Water Magic Novel)

  Copyright© 2012 by Brighton Hill

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  Bluehour

  A Watermagic Novel

  Brighton Hill

  ~Dreamspot Publishing, Inc~

  Full Moon

  “Okay! Enough already,” my mother said with narrow eyes. “You can go to the beach party, but whatever you do, don’t go in the ocean.” She was setting a plate of macaroni and cheese on the kitchen table before my seven-year-old sister, Lucy. The kitchen was a mess with stacked up dishes in the sink.

  “I’m not going to go in the water, Mom,” I huffed as I tucked my brown, straight hair behind my ears.

  My well meaning friend, Agatha Obrien, who was standing beside me, wearing only a bathing suit interjected, “We would never swim in the Pacific Ocean, Carolyn. The waves at Santa Monica Beach are so lame. You don’t have to worry at all. We just want to roast marshmallows.”

  I rolled my eyes at Agatha finding her statement ludicrous. It was so obvious she was planning on swimming considering how she was dressed. All my mother had to do was look out the window and see Agatha’s surfboard tied to the roof of her Volkswagen Bug.

  “Agatha,” my mother laughed. “I don’t mind if Grace swims. It’s just that her father will kill me if he finds out.”

  “I know all about that,” Agatha continued as she repositioned her thick glasses on her round face. “Grace told me how Mr. Waters is paranoid about the ocean ever since that fishing boat he was on years ago wrecked at sea and most of his shipmates drowned.”

  My little sister, Lucy, turned to me in protest. “You’re not supposed to tell people about that!” Her brown curly cue ponytails bounced as she complained.

  I shrugged my shoulders and tried to ignore her. She was right. My father was overly sensitive to any mention of the shipwreck. We never talked about it around him and he would be furious if he knew I had discussed it with others. I should have known better than to tell Agatha. As endearing as she was, she had a big mouth and very little sense of proper social etiquette.

  Apparently my mother didn’t mind that I had confided in Agatha because she nodded her head agreeably and appeared unfazed by Lucy’s reprimand. “Go on girls. Just leave before Max gets back from Catalina and has a fit that I let you go to the beach in the first place. If he catches you, you better tell him I knew nothing about it.” She was plaiting her brown bobbed hair with her acrylic nails. I noticed her jeans were a little too tight, but they looked good on her slim figure.

  “Thanks Mom,” I laughed lightly and kissed her on the cheek as she shooed us out of our apartment.

  I was making light of the situation, but I knew that if my father ever caught me swimming in the ocean I would be in serious trouble. He was a big, hulking man with superior strength from his many years of commercial fishing. Certainly, he wasn’t the kind of guy you wanted to anger. Just his sheer size was intimidating enough and when he was inflamed with rage, his presence overwhelmed.

  “Can I drive?” I asked Agatha eagerly.

  She tucked her frizzy brown hair behind her ears, but it kept falling back in her face. “Sure thing.” To my great thrill, she threw me her car keys. “Now if we make it there alive, we won’t have to buy tickets for the rollercoaster,” she snorted in her playful, goofy way. “Who needs an amusement park when we have a speed demon behind the wheel.”

  Now I laughed. She knew I was a devil on the road and I appreciated her acceptance and even encouragement in my reckless behavior.

  We got in the VW and in no time I was tearing up the road. I was an intensity junkie. I loved thrills.

  “Hey, hey!” She squealed, throwing her hands in the air. “Take those turns a little slower or you’ll lose the surfboard.

  “I thought you tied it down?” I put the gear in neutral and rolled up to the stoplight. Just to rile her up, I revved the engine as I stared at the red light anxiously.

  “I did tie it, but I didn’t bolt it to the roof.” From the corner of my eye, I saw her shaking her head in disbelief. “Don’t get into an accident. I might be a geek, but I still want to live.” She was a geek, but that’s what I loved about her. Agatha was entirely genuine and the kind of friend I could count on. And I especially liked that she let me drive her car even when all logic should have warned her against it.

  After a few close calls on Wilshire Boulevard, we parked alongside the amusement park and headed out to the sandy beach. We were on our way to the yearly end of the summer bash before our junior year started on Monday. It was an open party, so everyone was invited.

  As we approached, I saw lots of kids from Santa Monica High School where we attended celebrating on the shore with loud music. The sun was setting on the ocean’s horizon. It was a beautiful sight. The graying sky was lit with orange and pink pastels.

  Agatha and I weren’t popular, so after we said hello to a few people, we laid our towels on the sand off to the side by ourselves. As I looked around, I noticed some of the cheerleaders and jocks were playing volleyball in a makeshift court behind us, some student council members were kicking around a soccer ball near the shore, and some band kids that Agatha was friends with were building a bonfire to the side of us.

  I waved to a cluster of my teammates from my swim team who were playing cards on a big blanket they laid out on the other side of the fire. They waved back, but didn’t call me over. As usual I didn’t fit into any social group, but to me that didn’t matter because I loved being at the beach. For me, the ocean was paradise. And at least I had Agatha.

  As I noticed a full moon in the dimming sky, Danny Williams, a tall, lanky boy with sandy blond hair from my biology class last year, came over. “Hi, Grace.” His cheeks blushed lightly.

  “Hi,” I said as I wiggled out of my shorts and shirt exposing my bathing suit. I was anxious to get in the water.

  The warm evening wind blew through his short hair. “How was your summer?”

  “Boring as usual,” I laughed, wondering why he was talking to me.

  He smiled nervously as he sat down on the edge of my towel without invitation. There were perspiration marks on his t-shirt under his armpits. “What did you do?”

  I did so many boring things—I didn’t know where to start. “Mostly I just babysat my little sister and studied for my SATs.” I was searching through my pockets for my ponytail holder.

  “That’s right.” He nodded in approval. His eyes were blinking kind of fast. “You’re trying to get into Berkley, right?”

  Now I smiled. I was surprised he knew where I was dreaming of going. “Yeah. There or UCLA.” I noticed his two front teeth overlapped. I liked unique qualities in people, but he wasn’t my type.

  “I hope you go to UCLA.” He puckered his lips slightly like he was trying to subdue a smile.

  His statement irritated me. I wanted to go to Berkley more. “Why do you want me to go to UCLA?” I asked wondering why he cared. I looked at Agatha who wasn’t pa
ying attention to us at all. She was rubbing sunscreen all over her fair skinned body even though there was no way in the world she could get a sunburn in the evening.

  “Cause that’s where I plan to go. I want to go to UCLA too.” He blushed even more now as he watched me tie my brown medium length hair into a ponytail.

  “Oh,” I said in a sort of sarcastic, but playful tone. I didn’t want to go to the same school, but I also didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He was a nice guy, even if I wasn’t interested in him. Some girls might find him cute.

  A bunch of people were gathering around the bonfire the band kids built now. The music was louder and some girls were dancing barefoot on the sand.

  “Did you hear about the new exchange students from France?” Danny asked as he repositioned himself on my towel.

  “Oh, yeah,” Agatha blurted out as she turned to Danny. “Somebody told me about them.” She looked excited by the turn in the conversation.

  He blinked several times again. “Yes, yes. They are all in advanced placement. We’ll probably have them in our classes.” I could tell that he felt more confident now that Agatha was interested in what he was saying.

  “I heard they speak perfect English and hardly have any accents at all,” Agatha continued. “I think that’s kind of strange considering they grew up in France.” She looked at me.

  “I don’t know anything about them,” I said, wondering why she was looking at me for information.

  “They’re supposed to be coming to the beach party tonight,” Danny added in a quieter voice as if he was telling us a secret. “They are kind of weird.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “Did you meet them?” His statement peeked my curiosity because I liked unusual and different people and situations. Curiosity was my Achilles Heel and unique experiences flamed my desire for excitement.

  Danny wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and smiled. Apparently, he was happy that I had taken an interest in his conversation too. “I can’t explain it, but there is something frightening about them.”

  “You’re afraid of them?” I asked, surprised by his admittance.

  He looked uncomfortable. “Oh, no—I guess not.” He looked around like he was concerned someone might be listening. But, nobody seemed to be paying attention to us. The music was drawing people to the bonfire and now more kids were dancing under the now black sky. Danny continued, “They eat several times a week at Sea View Chateau where I bus tables…”

  Agatha and I turned to him in greater interest now. The smell of smoke was strong in the night air. “Go on,” I encouraged, trying not to seem as eager for information as I was. It seemed like I knew everyone around town and new and different people fascinated me.

  “There are six of them and we call them the ‘très beaux’ which means ‘lovely ones’ in French. They are Marcel Paradis, Laurent Moreau, Pascal Beaudoin, Brigitte Couture, Marine Thibault, and their chaperone Ms. Josette Bellerose. They dress in fine clothing, are unusually attractive, and dine on the most expensive delicacies we offer…”

  “Really?” I asked, finding the information interesting. Most kids I knew just ate fast food. There were students at Santa Monica High who had parents in the music and movie industries and those kids ate in fine dining restaurants, but not several times a week. And they weren’t ‘unusually attractive’, as Danny described the French exchange students or the très beaux (pronounced tray boo), as he called them.

  “Yes—really,” he nodded. His expression was animated. “Most often they make special requests for raw meat or raw seafood with gourmet sauces and embellishments, but nobody minds catering to their specific tastes because they spend a lot of money and they tip BIG!”

  Agatha tried to push her frizzy hair behind her ears, but the locks fell back into her round face as usual. “That’s bizarre that they eat raw meat!”

  “Isn’t it?” Danny responded enthusiastically. “They like the meat to be bloody.”

  I wrinkled my nose, but Agatha started cracking up in hysterical laughter. “Crazy people!” She was kicking her suntan lotion globbed legs in giddiness.

  Her laughter was contagious. Danny and I started snickering too. The idea of eating raw meat was so outlandish, but mostly I was chortling at Agatha.

  Finally, after the laughter waned, Agatha asked excitedly, “Tell us more about them.”

  Danny looked down at his hands, thinking. His lips were still in a half-smile. “They have a sort of formal way about them, not like American kids.”

  “What do you mean by ‘formal’?” she asked, lifting up on her knees and leaning closer to him.

  Danny’s eyes widened. He thought about it for a moment before continuing. “They sit up straight and have perfect dinner manners. Teenagers aren’t usually like that.”

  “That’s so strange,” Agatha said with a contorted smile on her face.

  Nodding, he continued as he sat up on his knees in a similar position to Agatha. “And their voices are different.” For a second, he looked up at the stars as if he was trying to figure out how to explain. His lower lip quivered a little like he was nervous.

  “How are their voices different?” I asked as I repositioned myself on my towel away from him. I tried to not let it bother me, but I felt slightly uncomfortable that he was sharing my space so intimately with me.

  My question seemed to agitate him. “It’s subtle, but there’s something off about the sounds they make and I can’t quite figure out what it is.” It seemed as if he was frustrated because he didn’t know how to describe their vocal qualities. “I guess their voices are sort of musical.” He shook his head. “Yes, I think that’s it...” he paused, “…though not exactly. Maybe that’s what all French people sound like.” From his irritated expression, he didn’t seem satisfied with his depiction. Then he looked at me with dreamy eyes and that bothered me.

  Even though I had more questions, I got up abruptly. “Can I use your board?” I asked Agatha. I loved to surf at night.

  “Yeah, sure…okay.” She turned back to Danny. “You want to go with me to get a snow cone? They sell them on the dock at that snack bar by the rollercoaster.”

  He looked hurt that I was ditching him for the water, but he agreed to go with Agatha.

  “I won’t be long,” I said to her looking out at the frothy waves rolling on the shore.

  “Don’t worry about it. I don’t feel like surfing anyway.” She smiled her goofy smile and pulled Danny by the sleeve toward the snack bar. He kept looking back at me as she pulled him along through the warm night.

  Once I got out into the ocean and onto the board, I felt at home. I loved being on the water and I loved breaking rules. It felt good knowing that I wasn’t succumbing to my dad’s unreasonable fears. It was such a peaceful feeling paddling out in the cool dark water.

  The full moon was lighting up the black sky in the most glorious way. When I glanced back at the shore, the bonfire looked big and raging as the dancing grew more wild and hypnotic in the flickering firelight.

  But, while I was still paddling out, anticipating the great rush I feel when I ride a killer wave back to shore, someone on a surfboard paddled up alongside me just a short distance away. I thought it was a girl belly down on her board just as I was.

  She was in a wetsuit, so I couldn’t make out the shape of her body. But, her hair looked light brown with sun streaks, long and wild. Under the moonlight, her face was the same beautiful color—golden bronze; yes, that was it. And maybe it was my imagination, but her eyes seemed to sparkle a clear blue like the Caribbean Sea. She was unbelievably stunning. I felt a tingling sensation rush through my body that made me very uncomfortable.

  We both turned our boards around and stood up at the same time to take the same impressive wave back to shore. It was like our minds were connected. But when I was in position, balancing myself, I glanced over at her. Now I could see her body. She wasn’t a girl at all. She was a he! This beauty was a teenage boy wi
th strong shoulder muscles and a sleek masculine body. And he was looking at me!

  Now, I noticed that alongside the boy were four other teenagers, two girls and two boys, all riding the same wave as us. The moonlight lit up their long wild hair that blew in the summer wind. And from a distance, my first impression was that they were extraordinarily gorgeous, like magical apparitions in a dream.

  But, before I made it back to shore, something violently pulled me off the surfboard and into the water.

  Blue Sapphire

  I struggled like mad to get away. Was it a shark that had pulled me off the board? There was yelling. My heart was beating extraordinarily fast. It felt like someone’s arms were wrapped around me. My appendages were flailing in frenzy, desperate to break free. In my craze, I must have kicked the surfboard. It wacked me hard on the side of my torso.

  Everything was occurring so fast. I could hardly think straight. I heard my name, “Grace… Now… Get…” The words were broken up in my mind.

  What was happening? I was gasping for air as I was dragged through the water. I tried to gain focus, to figure out what was taking place.

  “Oh, my!” It was my father! He was pulling me through the waves. The leash of the surfboard had been pulled free from my leg.

  I couldn’t believe what was happening. Somehow my dad found me in the ocean and was set on getting me out. He was a lunatic.

  He got me to shallow water where the waves were rolling onto shore. At once, he stood me upright on the sandy ocean floor. The water was at my knees.

  “You’re in big trouble, young lady,” he growled through clenched teeth.

  Everybody was staring at me from the bonfire. I didn’t care what they thought. I knew my dad was crazy about keeping me out of the ocean and I flat out disobeyed him. I was more concerned with how he was going to discipline me. More than anything, I knew I was in for a huge punishment.

  He held me by the arm and pulled me along past the onlookers at the fire. “Where are your things?” he demanded. He was fully dressed, in soaked clothes. He must have seen me from shore and not even bothered to undress before swimming out to retrieve me.