Chapter 3

I awoke with a start. 

The alarm, off station, hissed menacingly at me. I turned it off and sat up. Argh. Work. I dragged myself downstairs and poured a cup of coffee and headed for the shower. 

Contrast. Without it, the universe would cease to exist. Psshh. what-ever. I sighed, wondering why conflict and contrast had to keep spoiling my good time. Yes, I know… if I were to really think about it, if I wasn’t faced with something I didn’t like, I couldn’t very well figure out what I do like. But at times, like now, the contrast felt so ‘in my face’ I couldn’t think of what it is I really want. 

Not that I ever knew. What do I want? Each time I ask myself that question it was easy to conjure all kinds of material things I wanted; a new laptop, maybe one of those new Apple tablets… oooh what about that house in Hawaii? No, I needed to find out what I really wanted as in love, peace, and harmony. Sure, I want all those things, and yet… how to define them in terms that I could quantify. What does peace mean to me? What does love look like? How does harmony feel? I had a vague notion, but I couldn’t traverse the chasm of imagining myself in a perfect state of being.

I wasn't really feeling a perfect state of being at 3:05 pm while I sat there in the coffee house, with a gross tasting cup of coffee served by a surly emo kid who doesn’t have the first clue of how to make an Americano. All I’d wanted was the comfort that a tasty coffee could bring, to soothe me into feeling better. I’d had a really lousy start to the day at work, getting a ‘talking to’ about not following procedures I had no idea had been instituted. I really disliked getting into trouble unjustly. I sometimes thought working at the art store was not for me, but it was pretty great getting all my art supplies at a discount. I smirked then, realizing I had already found a better feeling thought about what moments ago had been some major contrast. Huh. I am getting better at this. Taking another sip of coffee, I frowned, right back in yucks-ville. Meh, it can’t all be happy and good. Okay, what is it that I do want? I want good coffee. Okay, imagine yourself drinking a really good coffee, just the way you like it. I saw myself at home, in my beloved leather chair, sipping the rich creamy goodness from my favourite mug, feet up on the ottoman… I want a job where I am happy and feel appreciated. I thought of all the people I work with, how we felt like family, where we worked together and accomplished our jobs and managed to have fun at the same time… There, that’s much better. And the coffee’s cheaper at my house too! I got up, leaving the mug of grossness behind, and headed for home.

When I got there I no longer had a desire for coffee, it had been soothing I needed, and I managed to do that thinking of what I wanted and imagining myself having it. I plunked down on the couch, turned on the TV, but instead of watching, I found myself pondering. It had been a month since my trip to Ucluelet. The events following my chance encounter were blurry, as if I’d gone through the motion of being on vacation, but hadn’t paid much attention. I did not run into him anywhere for the remaining six days, I hadn’t really tried, but I had hoped. Then the day came to pack up and go home and I’d reluctantly left, feeling as though I was leaving piece of myself on that beach. I couldn’t bring myself to return to Florencia Beach, though I had spent no more than a few hours with him, it seemed too weird to go back.

I had a photo of him, much of his true radiance lost in the digital translation of him, plus his face was small in the image, and when enlarged, it became a mass of pixels. If I squinted at the small likeness, I could picture all the wonderful expressions his face could make.

 I kept his note and his plaid sleeve in the bottom drawer of my nightstand. I am sentimental as a rule, and I maintained a futile dreamy fantasy of meeting him again one day. As I moved through my days, I sometimes pretended he was watching over me, not like a stalker, no, but like in the movie, ‘City of Angels’ where the angel kept vigil over the human woman he fell for. Yearned for. I found myself getting all romantic and mushy often in these past few weeks, which was totally unlike me, yet, I didn’t mind the change, although some of my friends and coworkers disagree. ‘Why are you so mopey?’ ‘What’s up with you?’ ‘You’re weirder than usual Alexis.’ They would say, not trying to be mean, but attempting to make me act more like myself, or get me to talk about what was bothering me. I never told anyone what happened on that trip. It was too personal, too private, and too unbelievable to share with even my closest friends. Besides, if I had told anyone, and was actually believed, they would probably confirm what I knew in my heart - I been an idiot for running away. In reality, some may have thought it might have been good for me to get laid, likely thinking that is the way of the world. But not in my world. I was not at all attracted to the idea of having sex with a total stranger and feeling okay about it. Yuck!

I know, I am different from most everyone, but I just could not do that. I had done that very thing - once. I still felt like I had betrayed myself. I’d been drunk, which in itself is amazing as I rarely drink, and it all happened so quickly, and afterwards it was so... disgusting. Totally unsatisfying and embarrassing. No. If I was going to get intimate with someone, there had to be mutual feelings between us, time to get to know each other. I guess I did not have sex. I made love. So, if there was no love... This was probably the reason I was single, the guys I met didn’t seem interested in ‘getting to know each other’ and because I wouldn’t ‘put out’ after a couple dates, they usually stopped calling.

In reality, I was fine with that. I did enjoy my solitude. It wasn’t forced on me; I chose to have only a few close friends, and I spent much of my time creating and playing. I created art in innumerable forms and various media, loved photography, tried to play guitar, loved books, loved travelling, hiking... I sighed.

Journaling was one way I knew would always soothe me more than anything else. I didn’t spend a lot of time talking anything through with my friends, and whenever I did I rarely felt better, usually because I’d start bitching and complaining and that seemed to compound the negative energy. I realized I had aimlessly wandered into my studio, and was seated at my work table, the TV still mumbling in the distance. I pulled out one of my favourite journals, one I had created and hand stitched with my own two hands. I rarely wrote words in my journals, instead using acrylic paint, creating new and different colour combinations and textures, which gratified my tactile senses. I might add images clipped from various sources, or draw or paint my own. I flipped slowly though the pages, few were complete, most were at varying stages waiting for inspiration to carry them further. I stopped briefly at each page, running my fingers delicately across the surfaces, noting my internal reaction, feeling for the right page to work on. Ahhh... there you are. I felt a shift in consciousness at a particularly sombre blend of deep reds, browns, and bronze tones with a wash of walnut stain over top, which darkened the mood of the pages, causing them to appear old, worn and forgotten. Deep inside, I felt similar. I knew this time, on these pages, with these feelings... words were going to be necessary.

I hovered briefly over the top left corner with my pen, waiting. I felt the words well up to the surface, pen meeting paper and words flowing freely. Soon they were pouring out of me wanting to become real, solid, lasting. It was if I’d opened a faucet as they spilled onto the page, creating an interesting pattern on top of the deep colours. When I reached the bottom of the first page, I flipped the journal sideways and continued, now writing crossways across what I had just written. This created a visually striking and intricate pattern of horizontal and vertical script overlaid. I was not writing to record thoughts, emotions, regrets, confessions to be read and re-read later, I was writing as a release, a way to get all of it out of me, to free myself of feeling clogged up.  By the time I completed the one full page of criss-cross writing, I felt a huge sense of relief. I knew this was the first step in letting go and moving on.

 The days ran into each other, weekends began to rush by, only to be replaced by another chunk of workdays, which started to drag as my interest waned. I was starting to get excited, as my spring trip back to Ucluelet was getting closer. I felt trepidation at the thought of dredging up sad feelings, but I couldn’t wait to get back to the rainforest, to breathe it all in, to immerse myself in nature. If I was lucky I would get to experience some storms, there was nothing like storms along the west coast up there, they were magnificent in their sheer force and spectacular imagery.  Waves crashing, wind whipping, rain pelting, no wonder the landscape there was so striking. This trip I had booked an extra side trip to go up to the hot springs at the remote northern end of Clayoquot Sound.  I would stay in my usual cabin for a couple nights; I would then stay up at the springs for two nights before returning to Ucluelet for three more nights. Eight days and seven nights!  I packed all I think I might need for the cool March weather, much cooler than last September been up, bringing extra batteries and flashlights as the cabin at the hot springs had no electricity. The more I thought of my trip, the faster the workdays flew by.

It was still dark as I crammed things into the back of my FJ, I was eager to be on my way. I loved to get up early as a rule, but on days like this, I got up hours earlier in anticipation. I was off! As the FJ climbed the Malahat summit on the winding Trans Canada highway, I wondered where my first stop might be. Sometimes I got so excited I forgot to stop at all, and arrive at my destination sick from hunger and overloaded bladder. I decided on Coombs, my mouth watering at the thought of having breakfast at the market restaurant, they have the perfect breakfast consisted of one pancake, one sausage, one slice of bacon, two eggs, and hash browns. Yum! I could never eat it all, but I got to have a taste of all of my fave breakfast items. The market was also great for getting some food for the cabin; they made awesome breads, and had unusual cheeses and other deli items.

A couple hours later, after finishing nearly the whole breakfast this time, my hunger sated to near bursting, I was on the road again, headed to Port Alberni and beyond, where the road twisted, turned, and occasionally hugged cliff sides on its way to the Pacific Rim. I drove into Ucluelet’s quaint little village, if you could even call it that, after 11 am. It was much too early for check-in at the cabin, but a perfect time to find a good Americano and take a walk around. I pulled into a spot near the government wharf and slid out of the driver’s seat, stiff and sore from the drive.

My eyes caught the back end of an old classic FJ40, and I tore my eyes away and started walking to the wharf. Of course I’d seen many more FJ40s in the past six months, none of which been his, as this one was not his, wrong colour, wrong year. Stop it. I told myself.  I didn’t want to mope and yearn, I wanted to live and have fun! Part of me wanted to run back, look inside the truck, maybe he changed the colour... oh jeepers... five minutes here and you’re already losing it. I halted in my tracks. I shook my head. I was going in the wrong direction. I had meant to go get an Americano first, so I could stroll, sip, and smoke. A most delightful pastime in my opinion. I turned around to walk in the direction of the bookstore where they made killer coffee drinks. “Hey, Hi!” I heard a deep voice call. I kept walking. “Hello.” The sound was close now. I looked up. A native man was looking expectantly at me as he stood in the middle of the road. I felt a tiny pang of  frustration at the idea of having to use my ‘No, I’m not here alone.’ line so soon after arriving. I always said something along the lines of I was on my way to pick up my husband who was out fishing – except that one time... –  and formed the words I would use this time in my mind to block out the memories. “Hi!” the man said again, and I wondered if he might be inebriated... uh oh... why am I such a magnet for odd people?             I thought idly... “Hi.” I said politely.  Always polite, I could never walk away, nope, that would be rude, and I didn’t want to be rude... “Hey, did you just get into town?” he talked as if we were good friends. “Uh, yeah, this morning, early.” “Nice, so good to see you.” Huh? Do I know this guy?! “My name is Larry. I’m the chief’s son, from across the bay.” I decided he was not inebriated, I did not know him from Adam, but he was a nice, friendly chief’s son. “Hey, that’s really cool. Uh... I’m Alexis, it’s nice to meet you.” “Welcome!” he said heartily. “I hope you enjoy your visit!” and at that he turned, waving at me as he walked away. Huh. That was nice, being so warmly welcomed by the chief’s son. I continued to the bookstore, walking right past the FJ40. I slowed as I passed, looking at the licence plate. Trying to memorize it, knowing it would slip from my mind a in few minutes, as did almost anything else I tried to memorize did.

I was walking back to the wharf, Americano and cigarette in hand, feeling the carefree sensation of ‘being on vacation’ creep into me as the corners of my mouth turned up in a happy smile. The mixture of low tide, tar, diesel and fish boats assaulted my nose as I strolled along the wharf, looking for a place to sit and enjoy the view. These smells - they might not be appealing separately or in combination, but it was a smell I’d known all my life, and it was familiar and grounding.  I sat and basked in it all, warm sunshine, great coffee, deep drags on my smoke, the subtle sounds of the docks creaking, waves washing up the beach, seagulls flying and cawing, and inhaled another deep breath of the wharf smell. Bliss was beginning to return. I put out my cigarette, stuffing the butt in my back pocket, stinky bad habit I know, but I was not a litterbug. I looked at the newer building above the wharf and saw a sign saying ‘Gallery’. Mmm – art. Yes, next on the agenda that was not an agenda was browsing an art gallery. I walked into the small gallery, looking around at all the paintings on display, noticing colour, texture, various mediums. My own art was not gallery worthy, not meant to be. It was more just for me, as a release, my own self-satisfaction of creating. I liked sharing it with my few art friends, but that was all it was ever intended for. “Hello.” A man said from behind a small desk in the corner. “Hi, how are you today?” I asked brightly. “Very well, thank you - and you?”  “I am great!” and I was. “I have a coffee, should I leave it outside?” “No, try not to spill, you’ll be fine.” was his jovial reply. People were so nice I mused.  As I looked at the paintings, he followed, not in a rude, policing way, but to tell me the various artists of whose work I was seeing. Speaking not in a pushy, salesperson way, but in a friendly, informative tone, he was obviously proud of each artist and their progression through their various pieces. We had nearly made our way around the entire gallery when I came around a corner and I gasped aloud., before me, was a painting of beach! Our beach! Oh my god, what is it with you?!  It was large, at least 3 feet by 5 feet, expertly done in acrylics, realistic and clear, not impressionistic or making use of bright tones. This was my favourite style of painting, like a photograph but with a magical, ethereal edge. I remembered I should breathe which I did as I took in the beauty of the image. The gallery owner noticed my reaction to this particular piece. “Isn’t it stunning?” I nodded, speechless. He continued. “Yes, I think this might be Daniel’s best piece...” What?! What?! Did he just say... “...he hasn’t been around lately; I don’t think I’ve seen him for more than five months...” he stopped when he saw my expression. “Uh... are you okay? You look pale...” “I....uh... I feel... dizzy...”  I stammered as my mind reeled. It has to be a coincidence; it’s not him, not him... I reasoned with myself. It’s some artist whose name happens to be Daniel, who happens to have painted our beach... my mind was swimming, I was drowning... “Excuse me, I need some fresh air!” I all but shouted as I rushed outside, heart hammering in my chest, I didn’t stop until I was safely ensconced in my FJ, taking deliberate deep breaths – innnn – ouuuut.– innnn – ouuuut, all the while telling myself it was some cruel coincidence... calm... zen... relax... okay, that’s better.  Well, so much for my bliss returning...

I sat trying to collect myself, and this time I refused to panic and revert to old thought patterns, instead forcing myself to look at things with the eyes of my many teachers. I reasoned with myself. Yes, you were feeling blissful, wonderful. You were happy. You were feeling very good, as you had felt when you first met him, it make perfect sense to have another encounter somehow involving this mysterious man who has haunted you for six months. It doesn’t mean he is going to leap out of nowhere and carry you off in to the sunset. It means as long as you work at feeling good you can get closer to him if it is what is meant to happen. The more time you spend feeling unhappy, worried or freaked out, the less chance you have of anything pleasant happen. I continued to breathe deeply, calming myself, looking for things to feel good about. For one, I was in my favourite place, it was a beautiful sunny day, I had many more glorious days of freedom ahead of me, I had a new adventure to the hot springs to look forward to, I held a delicious coffee in my hand, I could do anything I wanted to do. I sighed, feeling much relief, and much better. See, it just takes practise, I told myself.

I decided to pay a visit to the local Co-op grocery to pick up the things I did not get in Coombs. I filled up the cooler in the back of the FJ and made my way to the cabin. It was still early, but they were usually good about checking me in early. I suddenly felt weary. I put the last of my gear on the floor in the cabin, and set about my routine of putting things away in the fridge and unpacking some of my gear and clothes. I grabbed a book out of one of my bags, threw my travel pillow on the bed, flopped down, and opened my book.

I sat straight up in the bed, looking around frantically with a feeling of complete disorientation. Ah, yes, the cabin, okay. It’s okay. I lay back with a sigh. I’d fallen fast asleep while reading. No wonder, it had been a busy morning. I looked around some more, realizing this was the same cabin I stayed in six months ago, and I found this fact comforting rather than distressing. I got up to boil water for coffee, and enjoyed my coffee and smoke out on the deck, breathing the forest in and feeling anxious to get out into it. It was still early afternoon. I packed my back pack, and headed toward Tofino, just over 40 kilometres north of Ucluelet.

I stopped at the Wickaninnish Interpretive Centre parking lot, used the washroom and started down the trail heading to South Beach. The signs clearly stated bear and wolves were about, and to use extra caution when hiking. Never hike alone. Well, rules were made to be broken. I’d always been stubborn, especially around silly rules regarding not doing things alone. Sure, I see how it would not be wise to walk alone in the back alleys of downtown Vancouver at night, but I couldn’t figure out how walking on a trail in the woods alone would be so frowned upon. I’d lived my entire life on this island, much of it spent in the wilderness. I always used common sense and listened to my instincts when it came to wildlife. I’d come across bears many times, and heard wolves in the woods around me now and then.

They weren’t on a mission to stamp out humans, and besides, I am different from most humans. I always held on to this crazy and childlike idea I had a special relationship with animals. I felt they would never harm me intentionally. I knew it sounded ridiculous, thinking I was some female ‘Beastmaster’ but it was a fact that all domesticated creatures were drawn to me, cats would come across an entire field to say hello and weave around my legs. Dogs strained with all their might against their leashes to try to come over to me. Even some wild forest creatures seek me out, against their instinct to fear humans. I could stand quietly; making tiny chirping sounds, and soon little birds, nuthatches and chickadees would curiously come nearer and nearer, chirping back at me, daring to come within a foot or two.  I had practised various raven calls, and persuaded them to talk with me, sometimes swooping low to see who was in their territory. And of course there was that day in the woods with him, when the little squirrel came to check me out... I’ve been so lucky to have seen many animals in the woods, usually not seen by humans, and could not imagine I would meet my demise at the paw or jaw of a wild creature.

I was already at the beach. I came down the last of the stairs and stepped on to the pebbles of the beach. I walked towards the huge rocks to be the signature features of South Beach.  It was now cool and overcast, but the heat radiating off the dark pebbles was noticeable.  I sat, propping myself against one of the huge rocks, my butt warming on the pebbles, my back on the warm rock. ‘So,’ I began musing to myself. He might be a painter, an artist like me, only far superior. This possible fact did not bother me in the least. I was not a competitive type.  Maybe if we... maybe I could learn from him... I sighed, deciding on a different approach. Well, he has a similar vehicle to mine. His was a classic original form of my modern, retro styled truck, a Toyota FJ Cruiser. He had green eyes too, although his were a pure, unusual green seeming to change hue depending on his mood. I recalled the deep emerald eyes that looked at me with such desire after he held me. He really had held me, although sometimes it was like a dream in a far away past, in this moment, it felt like it had just happened, and I could imagine him looking at me in that indescribably breathtaking way. I exhaled, not realizing I been holding my breath. Feeling light-headed at the vividness of this memory, I continued... His hair was the same colour as mine, he loved the outdoors, he... I stopped, simultaneously realizing I’d run out of similarities and wondering why I was trying to come up with them at all. It did feel good to think of him, and I was trying to think thoughts that felt good...

Besides, it didn’t matter. People did not have to be exactly the same to be compatible, to be friends, to be...  lovers. As the word drifted in from the back of my mind, it was as though it was a completely new word to me. Yes, in the past six months I romanticised our time together, danced on the surface of what passed between us that day, analyzed every word and action, relived the touches, the feelings... but never ventured into the territory of imagining him as my lover. Perhaps here, in this place I felt free, free to be myself completely and do whatever pleased me allowed me the ability to take it to the next level.  My lover... I rolled those words around in my mind, as I let my imagination run with it.

It wasn’t graphic, more like impressions flashing and sensations rushing by; his hair brushing my face as his lips moved across my chest, feeling his skin on mine, his arms holding me close, his breath hot and fast in my ear, my fingers exploring his body... oh my god...wow, this was exciting, letting your mind loose and giving in to your deep desires.

I decided to rein myself in for now, feeling embarrassed although no people were anywhere near. I looked around again to be sure. I saw a familiar bird, a stellar’s jay sitting on the end of a log eyeing me suspiciously, as if he ‘d read my thoughts and reaffirmed to himself humans were odd creatures, not to be trusted – unless they had food. He studied me a moment longer, determining I did not have food and therefore was of no use to him, and he flew off squawking in a gruff manner. I heaved a huge sigh, running my hand across the top of my breasts where his imagined lips kissed me, and stood to walk off whatever remained of my erotic little diversion. As it was too chilly to go barefoot, I continued down the beach above the waves. I began to take in my surroundings, when I first arrived I was focussed inwardly and hadn’t noticed the beauty around me. Relief and joy flooded through me as I realized I had so many days to play. Complete freedom. I glanced up and noticed a young bald eagle on a tree branch not far from where I walked. I stopped, pulling my camera forward and switching it on. I could tell he was young as he was a motley brownish colour, dishevelled, probably losing his baby feathers, of which I’m sure there was a much more scientific term for – maybe moulting – , which would reveal his sleek black sheen with a striking white head. As I zoomed in on him, I thought soon he would learn to leave when humans approached, as most of his adult counterparts. Eagles, in my experience, always kept the farthest from humans. I had gotten close a few times, and had them come to me on rare occasion, but always at a greater distance than other creatures. I always wondered why, as they were a protected species, and people didn’t hunt them or go out of their way to harm them as far as I knew. And this young one was letting me get close, he continued to flex his powerful talons on the branch, move his head this way and that, it was like they learned at a later age to stay away. Animal behaviour was as interesting to me as human behaviour. I backed up quietly and gave him a large berth to allow him to stay where he was.  I continued down the beach, knowing if I kept going for some distance I would arrive at Florencia Beach. Our Beach. I did plan to return, but not today. I checked the time using my iPod and realized it wouldn’t be long before sunset and I should start back. It was one thing to be stupid and hike alone when the sign said not to, and a whole other thing to stumble along a trail in the dark alone. I could be stupid at times, but I am not an idiot. I laughed to myself as I turned back down the beach. I decided to walk along the beach towards the parking lot instead of using the trail. 

Chapter 2a

He drove around aimlessly, not even sure why he had gotten into the truck. He realized then that he was looking for her, hoping to run into her again. Oh sure, he thought to himself, and then what?! He’d just walk up to her and say “Hi, remember me? I freaked you out a couple days back… Can we hang out?” Or “Hi, will you go to dinner with me?” Yeah, sure, like any of those would work. No, he had screwed up, and screwed up big time. There was really no point in hoping to see her; nothing to fix what had gone wrong.

He pulled into the Schooner Cove parking lot. Shit! A silver FJ Cruiser was parked there. It had to be hers, there were not many trucks like hers around. He admired the looks of it, knowing it was like his, only all new and retro, but he smiled despite everything, thinking of yet another similarity between them. He blew out a breath feeling like a fool, why was he even thinking about things like that. He pictured her face, as he had done so many times. His heart tightened at the idea of never seeing her again. Knowing he would regret it later, he pulled into an empty spot and headed down the trail to the beach. His thoughts of her continued... What if he ran into her on the trail, what if she saw him? She would know he had followed her and dislike him even more. She might even phone the cops, he was really acting like a creep, he’d deserve to be arrested. Clenching his teeth, he continued down the trail to the beach. He was momentarily blinded as he came out on to the sunny beach from the dark woods. He kept to the edge of the tree line to stay out of sight, feeling like a criminal doing so. Wishing he had never come, he looked down the shore as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. Seeing no one, he walked down the beach a ways, and stopped to sit on a log, lighting a smoke to calm his nerves.

The wind began to pick up, blowing the clouds over the sun. He could feel the rain in the air, knew it was coming soon. Butting his smoke, he stuffed the butt in his back jean pocket as he decides to leave; he sees how ridiculous he is acting. As he stands and turns, his eye catches a head of curls far down the beach. He squints, trying to pick up more detail. His breath hitches as he realizes it is her.  Her head is down; she is walking away from him, farther down the beach, down near the water. It is low tide. She seems to be looking for something. She stoops, picking something up, replacing it closer to the water, turning towards him she squats down, holding her camera low, close to the sand.  She stays that way for some time, moving to sink one of her knees in the wet sand, she shifts position and takes pictures from the new angle. 
Again he is entranced by her, standing there watching her every move, unblinking. As he looks on, she throws her head back, lifting her face to the sky as her body heaves with a huge sigh. Her curls float around her head in the increasing wind, giving her an ethereal quality. As he feels the first drops on his back, he sees her face change.  Her other knee drops to the sand, she tosses her camera back behind her arm, under her coat and wipes her hands across her face. He longs to go to her. The gesture agonizes him; he can’t help but think she looks so very sad. Did he do that to her? He shakes his head, dismissing the thought. No, he’s just projecting his feelings on to her, she’s probably just enjoying the weather. 
As he tears his eyes away from her, embarrassed that he has gone to such lengths to see her, something blurs in the corner of his vision. A large dog is bounding toward her. His jaw tenses as he feels protective of her, and she does not notice the dog. It’s a big male Rottweiler, and he begins to move in her direction as it continues running at her. He stops, seeing her rise up slowly and deliberately, turning towards the dog. She seems to be looking at the sand in front of her when he sees the dog slide to a stop a few feet away from her, almost exactly where her eyes were looking. The dog sits, looking submissive with his stubby tail wagging slightly. She looks up at the dog, turning her head to the side, he sees her smile and hold her hand out slightly from her body, palm down. The dog goes to her dipping his head and dropping his tail. She puts her hand on the dog’s large head and holds it there momentarily. As soon as she lifts her hand, the dog trots away in the direction he came from.

He stands in awe of her, knowing she did not know that dog, knowing that Rottweilers can be quite intimidating, yet she showed no fear, instead she seems to control him with graceful ease. It was fascinating to watch. He realized she does not need his help, she was quite able to take care of herself.

He walks towards the trees, and when he is between them, he stops. He turns slowly almost against his will and his eyes move towards her. She is now standing, her face tilted up to the sky, the rain drenching her. She looks so beautiful standing there. He wonders why she is not running for cover from the rain, as most females do. A little itch in the back of his brain reminds him she is different. He shrugs it off. Yet, there she is, dripping wet, looking like she is totally enjoying it. She looks like an amazon warrior woman, tall, proud, and fearless. He feels another urge to go to her. No! He shouts in his head. Not going to happen. He turned back to the trees and not following the trail, he walked through the quiet woods back towards his truck. There’s nothing he can do to fix this. He’s just got to stop being a fool, and forget he ever met her. He frowned as he climbed back into his truck, pulling back on to the highway, he decides he needs more paint supplies, and turns off in the direction of Nanaimo.

As he drives, he remembered something his grandfather said to him so very long ago.  “Don’t dwell on the negative Daniel, things will only get worse if you do. There is always more than one side to a story, try to look at another side, try to find the good in everything and everyone.”  He smiled, his grandfather had always taught him so much. He had tried to follow his words, and whether he did or he didn’t, he always saw the truth in them. Now, his thoughts listless, returning again and again to the events of that wonderful, horrible day. If only he hadn’t behaved like such an idiot around her, what had he been thinking letting himself act in such a forward manner towards her. Of course he had freaked her out, maybe she’d even thought he’d meant to... oh dear god, is that what she thought? What had caused him to act like that he’ll never know. He had been so intrigued by her, so incredibly drawn to her, he’d spoken and acted before he could stop himself. It just happened, as if he were in a dream, directed by forces beyond his control. And dammit, it was as if he’d met her before, as if he already knew her somehow. Everything about her was so familiar at the same time foreign. He was so confused. The emotions he felt were so uncomfortable to him.

He tells himself she is better off not knowing him, reminding himself of the other failed relationships he’s had, how the women found him boring, and eccentric, his artistic soul pulling him in different directions than ‘normal’ people. They had wanted material things, stability, partying, flashy cars and to go to the big city. None of them could figure out why he lived out in the middle of nowhere as they called it, with nothing to do. She came from the city, she would probably feel the same over time, bored, wanting. Something tugged at the back of his mind, insisting she was different, that she was so very different from anyone he had ever come across. He shoved that thought away, knowing it was better this way. He reflected on another piece of advice from his grandfather, Not to worry about what other people thought of you, but to just do what feels right, what makes you happy. He had tried to follow those wise words his whole life, but he still felt uncomfortable being different from everyone, sometimes he felt like a freak.

He stood back from the canvas, tilting his head while he scrutinized his work. The painting was pleasing to him, the beach in his mind was coming through well on the canvas, colours and tones just right. He knew it was like putting salt in a wound, but it also felt like a release, to pull the image of Florencia Beach out of his brain, and get it on the canvas, letting it go. Letting her go. It had been a few weeks now, and he was pretty much back to his old self, he still thought of her, but it was easier now, like she had been a great character in a story he had read. Feeling finished, he tossed his brush in the water bucket, stepping farther back and taking in the whole image he had created. Satisfied, he sighed, and taking a smaller brush, signed the bottom left in deep purple acrylic. 

Chapter 2

He scooped up both our pairs of shoes with one hand, keeping hold of my hand with his other. I sat down on the log near my pack, and he dropped our shoes, and gracefully collapsed to his knees at my feet, searching my face his brow furrowed, not understanding. I took a deep breath. “I feel... I... I am completely overwhelmed!” I had trouble forming my thoughts into words. “I’m not sure what’s going on. I... you... it’s all too much!” I finished in a rush. I put my head in my hands, covering my eyes, shaking my head.  My bandaged hand stung fiercely, but it didn’t matter. It was all much too good to be true. It didn’t seem real.

Cool fingers tenderly pried mine off my face and as I looked at him, I knew I was on the verge of tears. “I’m confused. None of this makes any sense.” A single tear ran down my cheek. He brushed it away, tilting his head to the side as he moved his face closer. “I know. I think I feel the same. I keep trying to figure out what is happening...” He paused. “From the moment I saw you, I was drawn to you. You are completely yourself, open and honest, and I find you completely disarming. I’m saying things I can’t believe I am saying, I am behaving irrationally and I can’t seem to stop myself. I just would never...” 


I felt much calmer, more centered, realizing he felt confused as well... I took another deep breath. “Can we just... slow down?” He exhaled a long breath; he must have been holding it waiting for my response. “Yes. Please. Yes. We can.”

“I’d like to walk down the beach to those rocks.” It was why I came here. I was jamming my shoes and socks into my pack, and after a glance at him, I stuck his in as well. He offered his hand and pulled me up. “Let’s go.” He smiled. We walked in comfortable silence side by side near the water, occasional waves washing over our bare feet. We came to a stream coming out of the woods spilling across the sand into the sea. It was even colder than the ocean, and we both shivered as we stepped across quickly. My knee was improving as we walked, the swelling was down, the pain subsiding. We reached the rocks, and I gingerly picked my way to the top, and saw what I had come for. Yes! I started framing a few shots as he came up and stopped dead in his tracks.

A whoosh of breath escaped him as he took in the view. Before us lay the next beach, not as protected as the one we left, and the waves were crashing with great force onto the huge rocks and tiny treed islands jutted out past the point. Our hair whipped around our heads as the force of the wind was much greater here. I took over a dozen pictures, trying to capture the highest wave crashing displays. I saw this next stretch of beach was rockier and less sandy, while noticing my feet were  becoming sore just standing on the rough rock beneath me. I thought of my knee, my hand, and my confused state. I realized I needed to get back to the truck, use my first aid kit, and probably rest and ice my knee if I was to continue hiking all week.

I wondered what to do. Invite him? Gee how exciting, hey do you wanna watch me ice my knee? I chuckled under my breath as I continued to click the shutter. Well? Mmm... Later? Dinner? What? What about after dinner? Where was this going? What am I thinking? Who knows. I guess I will let him decide...
 “Hey... uh. I was thinking I should probably rest my knee and get some antibiotic cream on my hand...” I gave him a sad smile.

He came closer and stood in front of me, blocking most of the wind. A huge rush of his scent hit me and I breathed deeply. His face twisted. “I was wondering... I am... This is awkward. And embarrassing...” I wondered what was coming next. I’m married? I’m over whatever was happening? What? Spit it out! 
I jumped in. “No, it’s fine. I should go. I need to go.” I said it with such finality I surprised myself. Well, maybe I could save him from having to confess whatever awkward embarrassing thing he was going to tell me. Besides, I didn’t want to hear it. I instantly realized why this was all too good to be true. He was married. Everything he had said earlier clicked into place. “oh. .. okay... of course.” He said quietly, looking at the ground. He looked up again. What was that look?!

Sadness? Fear? Hurt? Shame? I couldn’t place it. I felt a tiny tug at my heart, but I took it as a sign to go. I turned slowly. His hand was feather light on my arm for a split second, hesitating, then  he quickly withdrew it and held it tight at his side.

I started down the rocks, and as I reached the bottom, I swung my pack off, unzipping it and pulling out his boots, the socks still stuffed inside. “I’m sorry. This is weird, I know... I just... have to go now.” I said as sat on a log and pulled on my socks and shoes. He sat a ways away doing the same. “I... I understand.” He said softly, not looking at me. I felt a tiny wave of anger. How could he? Why? I tried hard to let it go. I stood, pulled on my pack and arranged my camera. “Thank you very much for saving me, and ruining your shirt, and... How can I put this... confusing the hell out of me.” Wow, shit. I guess I was angry. That was mean. He saved your ass more than once, and you return the favour with accusations. “I mean, oh shit! I don’t know. It was really nice to meet you Daniel.” I turned away, not waiting for a reply.

I made it to the stairs, my knee feeling hot and painful, and looked up and sighed. This was going to hurt. My stupid knee did not like climbing stairs, and I knew as I climbed that it would feel like bone painfully scraping bone with every step. Sure enough, as I reached the top step, it was pure agony. I stopped to catch my breath and rubbed my knee vigorously as if it could help. Three painful kilometres later, I was at my truck. I climbed in. Without warning, tears welled up in my eyes, and soon I was crying in earnest. My knee hurt so damn much, my hand throbbed, and I was not sure if I would be confined to my cabin for the rest of the week. Yet much of my sudden upset was because of him. Why? Why would someone play games like that? I know most people are not as open and gullible as I am. Most would have figured it out before it went anywhere. I guess I was mad at myself for falling for it. What an idiot – as usual.

I opened the car door to pull in the piece of camera strap caught in the door in my hurry, not noticing that the quick whoosh of air caused my cabins' brochure to be sucked out the door from the floor behind my seat. I put my camera securely in the passenger seat only to look up to see Daniel coming out of the trees toward the parking lot. Shit! I started the FJ, and Nine Inch Nails blasted out of the speakers at full volume. Shit! Shit! I pushed the stereo button off, threw it in reverse, whipped my head around and backed out of the spot. As I put it in drive, I looked straight into the sad pained look on Daniel’s face I could not indentify clearly earlier. He was only a dozen feet away, moving towards a classic dark green Toyota FJ40. Oh –perfect! He has a vehicle like mine. Only the cool classic original version.

He looked right at me, right through me. I twisted my head sideways as if in pain yeah, I was in pain! I felt embarrassed of my red, tear-stained face. I shook my head, trying to collect myself, and smiled a sad, slow smile at him before I pressed the gas pedal and drove past him slowly. I couldn’t help but continue to watch him as I passed by, and I saw his chest heave with what looked like a big sigh. Was his face wet? What the?! I could have sworn that as the light hit the side of his face I saw moisture on his cheek. No. Trick of the light. I brushed the thought away quickly. He might have worked up a sweat on the hike. Yeah, probably...

I drove along in silence, not bothering to turn the stereo back on, not wanting to think anything right now. My throbbing knee and hand took some of my attention and I concentrated on the pain. Yes. Feel it. Hurt! I still felt a pang of guilt at the words I spoke. It was unlike me to lash out at anyone. Shit! As much as I tried not to think about it, I could not stop myself. I angrily turned the stereo back on and the subwoofer kicked into gear as its bass thrummed through my body, soothing away the anger coursing through me. A new song came on – Alicia Keys – crooning- ‘Oh Oh, I... never felt this way’ Anger gave way to sadness and I cried the rest of the way back to the cabin. I pulled the FJ up and slid out, taking my gear with me, and rushed to the cabin door, unlocking it, dropping my gear in the chair, slamming the door and flying to the bed. I buried my face in the pillow and sobbed. What is wrong with me? I choked, sputtered, and continued sobbing into the pillow. After a few minutes, it subsided, and I sat up, completely drained of tears and emotions.

Independent, self-sufficient, happy, laid back, these words I normally used to describe myself did not fit anymore. I mean, I am an emotional creature, hell, I cry at some songs or movies for no reason at all, and if an animal gets injured in a movie, I’m practically inconsolable. But this? A few hours spent with a stranger, feeling drawn to everything about him, and believing he was feeling the same crazy way towards me... and I was very wrong.

I have been wrong before, I’ve projected myself on to others countless times, so I needed to stop this and get over it. It’s over. You were mean. What about him? Wasn’t he meaner for leading you on? I sighed deeply, suddenly craving coffee. Strong, rich, creamy coffee is always a saviour in my times of upset.

I sat out on the deck, sipping the hot soothing brew, inhaling the aroma and feeling its warmth slide down my throat. Calmness enveloped me as I placed the steaming mug on the railing and took a long drag of my cigarette. I was surprised, as I normally did not feel any need for tobacco while enjoying the outdoors, but I’d been so upset by the day’s events, pulling out all my comfort tricks to settle myself.  The ice pack stung on my knee and palm as I sat with my palm pressed firmly on the pack draped across my leg. I looked at the plaid shirtsleeve I re-used to wrap my hand after a good cleaning and sterile gauze application. The wound had been deep and I purposely made it bleed again to help clean it out. My eyebrows creased as I remembered him standing there, without one sleeve, his strong arm that had saved me exposed and... Stop it. I chided myself for continuing the self-torture. I butted my smoke and went back inside, putting the ice pack back in the freezer, picking up a book and flopping on to the bed.

I woke up disoriented, searching the ceiling, slow realization dawned I was in a cabin in Ucluelet - my favourite place. A vague remembrance of the day’s events crept back in and these things seemed distant, as if it had only been a dream... I sat up slowly, feeling my hand and knee throb in unison. It was sunset and I realized I was starving. I retrieved my bent book from beneath my arm and placed it back on the nightstand, and opened the fridge to see what I could make to eat. I munched on a cheese and salami sandwich as I repacked my bag with a fleece jacket, a granola bar, and topped it off with my camera.

I pulled on a vest, grabbed my keys and climbed into the FJ. I headed to the parking lot of the Wild Pacific trail, just a few kilometres south of my cabin. I should get some good sunset views from here, I thought blandly as I pulled on my pack and headed towards the lighthouse. Mmm... Where’s the usual me? I felt empty, void of feelings. I shrugged it off, and made my way along the trail, feeling sturdy on my knee and my mood brightened at the thought that hiking was going to be fine. I hadn’t ruined my knee completely.

I gradually felt better and better as I walked, stopping for pictures, or to sit on a bench, feeling lighter as time went by.  The sky darkened as dusk approached, it was still a couple of kilometres before I completed the loop back to my truck. The air was still, the trail was silent and deserted as it wound along the rocky coast through the woods. A raven’s guttural cry broke the silence, and I stopped to locate the direction.

I heard a fast woosh woosh woosh of wings as a huge raven gracefully flew overhead, near enough for me to see his majestic black head turn as he focused his vision on me briefly. Whoa. I shivered. I felt a tingle at the thought of a raven looking at me. Me. I wondered what ravens thought of humans, wondered if they knew the depth of wonder I felt at this moment watching him. I wondered if ravens thought at all…. Oh there I go, projecting again, anthropomorphising creatures as if they had the ability to think human thoughts.  Silly me. I wondered how it might feel to touch his feathers, to feel the smooth power of him beneath my hand. I sighed and he was gone, out towards a small offshore island, probably to find a place to spend the night. I shivered again, this time from a cool chill, and pulled my fleece out of my back pack.

When I got back to the cabin it was fully dark, I went straight to the kitchenette before turning on any lights, and turned on the kettle to make another cup of coffee. I turned back towards the door and saw something white on the floor under the door sill. ? I walked over, and picked up a folded sheet of paper, and as I did, the cabin brochure slipped out and drifted down. It had my writing on it where I scribbled my cabin number and the dates I planned to stay. What the?! I slowly unfolded the paper in my hand... in neat, small printing I read;

Alexis,

The brochure must have fallen out of your truck. I found it after you drove away, and I’m afraid I followed the map and saw your truck and ... I apologize for invading your privacy further, but I can’t help it. I don’t know what I did or said to push you away. I don’t know what happened today, meeting you and completely losing myself. I have never met anyone like you. I obviously frightened you with my inexcusable behaviour, and for that too, I apologize. I feel terribly embarrassed at how I acted. I tried to explain, but as I began to say the words, I knew it sounded unbelievable, and cheesy.

All I know is I continue to feel drawn to you, and I didn’t want you to leave. I wanted to stay near you, be with you. I thought when we agreed to slow down, it would be alright, I could find a way to... 

I realize I sound like a stalker. I don’t blame you for wanting to get away from me. When I was trying to tell you... when I said it was awkward... what I was too embarrassed to say... I wanted to tell you I didn’t want you to leave! I was trying to figure out how I could stay near you, but anything I could say would have sounded stupid, would have sounded like I was a mad man. Now I am following you to your cabin and leaving you notes. None of this is helping my case I know, but please, please know I never meant to frighten you, or to push you away.

I promise I will not trouble you again.

I wanted to apologize, and I have to tell you, you are the most mysterious, beautiful, wonderful creature I have ever encountered. Words cannot adequately describe you or my feelings of today. I will never forget our day together, never forget your smile...

Daniel

I collapsed to the floor. 


What?! What did I do? Ass-u-me. Yes. It was true, he had felt the same as I did, was as confused as I was, felt embarrassed as I did... oh – my-  god... something happened today that just doesn’t happen, and yet... yet it did happen today, two people met, and felt an incredible, impossible, wonderful connection which made them both act out of character. And of course it was awkward and confusing. Of course neither could trust what was happening, I don’t know what was happening. I assumed when he said he had something awkward and embarrassing to say... he was taken, married, gay or something. Because I didn’t want to trust how I felt, how he might feel. Something real was happening. I grasped for an excuse not to... not to trust, not to believe. Hot tears splattered the paper in my hand.

As the weight of my utter stupidity crashed in on me, I recalled all I had learned, and realized I’d not thought of any of it during this day. I have spent many years trying to understand the human condition, trying to grasp what the meaning of life might be, what my purpose was.  With all the research and reading I had done, I made the connection and came to the conclusion all the different teachers and philosophers were all saying the same thing in different ways. Everything that happens to you is directly related to how you are feeling, and what you are thinking. You can go through life complaining and unhappy, and continue to be surrounded by things and events keep you complaining and unhappy. Most people find a middle ground, where they are mostly happy, but still have much unpleasantness in their life, and they have no idea why or how to rid themselves of it. 
Although I learned many and varied techniques and exercises to help me to find my way to ‘enlightenment’, there was still a large part of me that dismissed these notions.

As I came across clues and hints that completely resonated with me, and I knew them to be true and worthy of putting into practise, I still felt stuck in my ways, making changing seem impossible. I had changed though. I’d gone from being fearful of many things, feeling victimized and justified as I lashed out in anger and self righteousness - to accepting I created all of that in my life to try and explain the trauma I experienced as a young woman. I’d given my power away, giving in to fear and anger, but over time I learned to take my power back, to take responsibility for how I felt, and I lived a much more joyful life because of it. No other person was responsible for how I felt. It was only how I interpreted events and people that caused my reaction and emotions. I realized I completely reverted to my old way of thinking today. Instead of interpreting the events of today as something directly related to my feeling of utter freedom, love and joy at the beginning of the day, of course it was the ideal mood to be in, the perfect wavelength to be on, to run into a man who seemed to be everything I ever wished for. How could I have missed it? I understood now. It was all too good to be true, that’s why. I still didn’t feel worthy; even after all my hard work at changing my thought processes.

I sighed, my tears dry and composure in place, trying hard not to be angry with myself, and realized thirty years of negative conditioning could not be undone in a few short years of practise. What now?  There was no way I could ever contact him. All I knew was his first name.

Chapter 1

Walking along the narrow boardwalk, thoughts drifted in lazy paths through my mind.    

Ah peace. Wonderful solitude, peace, serene, in my favourite place... I breathed in deeply of the heady scent of the rainforest, feeling another wave of pure bliss wash through me to my core.

Utter bliss! I watched the boards pass under me as I strolled along, noticing some were old, greyed, worn, and some were newer, still untouched by weather and mosses. Hiking in the woods, on this perfect fall day, alone, not a care in the universe... 

I descended a flight of steps down to a bridge over a small streambed, and barely noticed a small sound up ahead, far away, like soft steps... the sound stopped, and I thought it was forest sounds, and I was indeed alone here, yet the farthest thing from lonely. All around me I heard the high sounds of tiny birds. I sighed deeply again, inhaling the rich earthy scent I craved. I stopped at the bottom nearest the stream, turned on my camera and took a few shots from different angles with a few exposure changes to experiment with the light. I began to make similar bird sounds sucking air through my teeth. One by one I saw them venture near, flitting about on branches a few feet away.

They seemed so curious, twisting their heads to locate the source of attraction. One corner of my mouth tugged upwards. What could be better, alone, not a soul around, in the woods, perfect weather, playing with creatures, no plan, no destination...wandering, the way I love to be... another smaller sigh escaped my lips as I began to climb the stairs up the opposite ridge. I reached the top and continued around the curved boardwalk, which floated ten feet above the forest floor.

My eyes were drifting past salal, wild huckleberry, majestic cedar, sitka spruce and lacy hemlock, absently looking for perhaps a macro opportunity... my peripheral caught a flash of movement and I jerked my head up to see another hiker was directly in my path. What the?

I tried desperately to move fluidly to the side, hoping I could squeeze past without looking like an idiot for not paying attention, at the same time taken completely off guard by their completely silent and sudden appearance... uh...uh...whoa...oh shit...  I started to lose my balance and felt myself in one of those slow motion moments -where you know you’re going to fall and it’s going to hurt and there’s nothing you can do about it.

I felt a hand grip my upper arm, and my world teetered in the opposite direction and I found myself instinctively reaching and I came in contact with a strong arm. I pulled myself toward it, and landed with a soft thud into a solid chest.

I exhaled sharply as I made contact, and keeping my grip I stood perfectly still, besides shivering involuntarily at the realization I’d nearly cut my entire vacation short or worse, yet all was averted in a split second.

I took a deep breath, and looked up to see who had been so quick to change the course of my life. I lost the ability to breathe altogether. The greenest eyes looked down at me, wide with was that amusement or fear or?  I couldn’t place it. As my vision opened up beyond the eyes, I could not help but see hair, the next most noticeable feature, nice bronze tones, not unlike my own, yet swept up all over with chunks twisting in all directions, and the overall effect was literally breathtaking. I glanced down and saw a broad mouth, one side curled up in a most intriguing crooked smile... I must look like such an idiot, not only not looking where I am going, but diving off the boardwalk, and now gawking and speechless.

 I frowned at the spectacle I was making of myself, and at the complete difference between this moment and one only seconds before. “Th...Thanks!” I stammered, only furthering my humiliation. “Mmm... You are welcome. I am sorry if I took you by surprise.” His voice was deep, with a rough edge, and I couldn’t help but detect a touch of amusement behind his sincere words.

 Feeling my face flush as I realized my nearness to him, in fact chest to chest, my hand still gripping his bicep, I dropped my hand. I noticed he still held his hand lightly around my upper arm, and he did not let go. “Are you okay? I think I gave you a scare.” He still held my eyes with his. I felt a tinier shiver run through me at the vibration of his voice. His eyebrow flicked upwards.  “Uh ...yeah, I’m okay, and yes, you did.” I smirked. I shook my head, to dispel the shock and to try and free myself of the spell of those eyes. My heart sounded loud to me. What is wrong with me?  What’s going on here?

“Good...uh... I mean... that you’re okay. Are you out alone?” He spoke the latter softly, lilting up at the end, and I felt completely disarmed... and speechless again. I thought of his question, how it could be dangerous to answer truthfully, how I was very much alone, how absolutely no one knew where I was, how I was only one day into an entire week of complete solitude, how I’d rehearsed a ‘safe’ answer for this question... “Yes.” I answered quietly.

For some baffling reason I spoke the truth. I felt my face colour , and saw his brow twitch again. “I see. Are you headed for the beach?... Yeah, uh sorry, where else would you be going?!” He said the last in a rush, realizing his query silly as this trail led down to a beautiful wild west coast beach, as most all of the trails in the Pacific Rim National Park led. He looked embarrassed; the corner of his mouth twitching as he held my eyes, and again that feeling of - ‘what-I-don’t-know’ - caused me to shiver imperceptibly. I felt his hand loosen its hold on my arm, then unthinkably slowly and deliberately brush down the length of my arm, his fingers lightly making contact with my hand as his arm fell down to his side. I heard him inhale slowly.

His mouth erupted into a broad smile, and his eyes lit up turning impossibly greener, matching perfectly with the surrounding surreal glow of the forest. I took a tiny step backwards.

Before I recovered from his spectacular expression, he spoke once again. “Well... I too am alone...would you mind if I joined you?”  His mouth twisted as he seemed to struggle for words. “I was down at the beach, and it was bea-uti-ful (he drew the descriptor out deliciously) ...and well...I wondered if I could come with you.” He sounded so...so... warm, sincere, and inviting. An odd feeling crept into the pit of my being, nothing fearful, nothing negative, but a distant knowing, a recognition?, something I couldn’t put my finger on, all I knew was it felt warm and familiar.

I could not help but return his smile with one of my own, causing the corners of his eyes to crease as his smile grew broader. “Uh sure, I’m in.” In... yeah, in what exactly? I shrugged and turned to face my original direction towards the beach, and completely unintentionally, my left shoulder brushed across his chest.  Geez this boardwalk is narrow! I shot a quick look up out of the corner of my eye to catch him in a slow blink, his grin twitching on one side. I looked ahead swiftly, rolling my eyes at my idiocy, and lack of space judgement, and began walking forward. I heard him directly behind me and glanced over my left shoulder to find him so near his breath caused some of my curls to drift forward.

My heart skipped for a split second what am I doing?! Why did I say I was alone, and invite this man to walk with me?  Thankfully, I was able to keep my feet moving forward at an even pace, his magically following very closely.

We walked for a few minutes in silence, and I felt my shoulders return to a relaxed state.  I inhaled the sweet damp air and despite the oddness of my current situation, once again revelled in the peacefulness of the nature surrounding me. Yeah, what now?! My thoughts, seeming incoherent, and unable to focus, rambled around for an explanation, something to make sense of what was occurring. Nothing came through, I was baffled. Apart from the tiny sounds of the birds, there was only the soft thud of our feet on the wooden walkway, and my heart. My heart? I don’t remember hearing my heart before this encounter. My heart, audible in my ears, and with his nearness, could he hear as well? No. No way. “Have you found some good subjects?”  My brain struggled to comprehend. His voice was so... “Yeah, I love this place, many great things to capture.” I replied, trying to sound semi-intelligent, and at once realizing what I said. What-ever. “Any you want to show me?”

“Sure, when we get to the beach...uh, are a lot of not-so-great shots...” I tried to convey my total lack of photographic abilities. “I’d like to see them anyways... and oh... if you see something on our way you’d like to –capture- (drawing this word out in a purr) – he doesn’t miss anything I thought ruefully “please feel free to stop anytime.” “KK” I said quickly before I realized I was using leetspeak what a geek. He seemed not to notice and we continued on, rounding another bend between some fabulous cedars with signature west coast windblown branches.

Without thinking, what is up with me? I stopped suddenly closing one eye and framing a perfect shot...he quickly stopped too, but not before his cheek came forward over my shoulder as his momentum carried him forward. This all happened swiftly, but as it all flashed by fast, as his face neared mine, I saw such a look cross his features. Such a look. My God! But what – what was that look?!  Surprise? Pleasure? Like he knew something I didn’t? It was all so maddening, one minute I am completely content, all is well in my universe, and the next minute I can’t think straight, and my world is completely upside-down or at the least reeling... I collected myself with great effort, and did my best not to have noticed any ‘look’. I turned the camera on and started to frame and focus. Lovely branches. More zoom.

 I felt his eyes on me as I pressed the shutter, reframed another angle, changed exposure, feeling him watch, yet, mmm... interesting, I didn’t feel discomfort or embarrassment, no, instead, I felt what I sensed earlier, that warm and familiar feeling... I realized I felt comfortable with him watching me take photographs, how perplexing this all was, why would I feel comfortable with a perfect stranger watching my every move? 

After taking five or six shots, I spied something off the trail, some late ripening wild raspberry, red and bright against all the green. Eyes...so green...  I gingerly stepped off the boardwalk onto the forest floor, which was less than a foot down. I slowly moved toward the berries, careful where  I placed my feet,  trying not to disturb any tiny plants, and knelt down as carefully, switching the camera to ‘super macro’ mode, moving my arms up and out, the strap coming off my neck as I brought the lens to within a few centimetres of my target. Ca-lick my digital shutter noise broke the silence as I wished I shut off all camera sounds as I usually do before venturing into the wild. I made the adjustment with ease, and was able to take shots silently. As soon as I looked up again I came face to face with a tiny red squirrel. I stopped breathing. Without taking my eyes off the little creature, I changed the angle of the lens, began to increase zoom toward it and angle the LCD screen towards me, and pressed the shutter repeatedly making little changes in between. The squirrel went along with it all well, staying still long enough for me to focus and shoot, moving and to give more interest to my shots. I could not hold my breath another second and I tried to silently inhale, but it was too much for the creature and the squirrel began chirping loudly and took off in a flash back into the underbrush, popping up onto a nearby tree, only to disappear again.

I let out a sigh, and as carefully as I knelt, I got up and walked backwards in my original footsteps back on to the boardwalk. He stood there, a look of wonder on his face, unmistakeable this time. “You’re good.” “Uh no, lucky.” I started to shake my head.  “I saw him watching you, as I was watching you, and he was curious, as I am, and it was like he couldn’t help himself, he had to come and be with you...” he trailed off quietly at the end, yet I caught the connotation.  A breeze stirred up from behind him, coming up off the ocean. I inhaled an intoxicating scent that could only be coming from him. I felt unsteady on my feet. Whoa.

 It was as if I was seeing him for the first time; he looked striking, standing with his strong jaw holding that gorgeous crooked smile, those warm, extraordinarily green eyes and impossible hair, perfect in its wildness.           And he smelled so good! I continued staring, taking in his tall lean body, his worn jeans, well-used hiking boots, his long muscular forearms with his hands casually shoved in his jean pockets. His gray plaid shirt had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, open at the front, enough to show a masculine well-formed neck, down to a glimpse of his prominent collarbones... My eyes moved up and met his, I saw his tolerant expression as I realized I been ogling, no, not that, anything but that... I flushed yet again. Whoa, hormones running rampant at my age? I swallowed, trying to think of something to say.

He saved me. A second time. “It looks like you have as much curiosity as I do.” He let out a soft chuckle. Oh-my-god, I felt the vibration of that chuckle travel through the boards and up through my body. Mmm. “Uh, yeah, I don’t know what to say.” sorry, I don’t usually ogle “I’ve always felt like I have a special animal thing...“ There I go again “But I think it’s all in my mind.” Yeah, see, I’m crazy...“I have a good imagination.” Will my badly chosen words ever stop erupting from my mouth? “I... uh...”  I mumbled. He tilted his head to the side expressively. “I see. Well after what I just witnessed, I don’t think it’s all in your mind. You seem to have an affinity for attracting remarkable things.” “I’ll say!” I blurted. Oops. “Mmm...Well, shall we continue?” I added quickly.  He flashed me another magnificent smile. “Most certainly.” He replied, in a most charming manner.  I hesitated, and he noticed my momentary lapse and proceeded to take the lead. I tried to keep step with him, and could not, not as close as he could, so I fell in behind at more of a distance, where I felt like I might not stumble into his heels. After a moment, he slowly turned his and looked back at me, and inexplicably a thrill ran through me and I drew in another breath of him and found myself grinning stupidly as a happy warm feeling welled up.

 I don’t know what’s going on. Out of nowhere a Tragically Hip song softly played in the back of my mind...’I want my life to smell like this...’- yes...exactly like this!

I inhaled again deeply, and the mix of ocean, forest and his scent mingled and created an exquisite atmosphere. Seeing the trees begin to clear, I glimpsed ocean in between the gaps. Ahead the boardwalk turned into steep steps down towards the beach below us. As he began to descend I stopped, captivated by the expanse of ocean. The beach curved off for miles to my left and right, tiny islands and large rocks jutting out into the sea, waves crashing onto them, past them rolling up the beach in a slow hypnotising rhythm. The sun warmed my face and I lifted my chin and basked. And breathed. And wavered. The breeze caused my curls to swirl around my face and tickle my cheeks. I giggled. Giggled? I took a number of shots, left, right, up, down, Down? Yup, I think I caught him on film. I am not a people photographer. Nope. I like taking pictures of anything, except people for some reason. I looked down again, where my camera been aimed moments earlier, and saw him looking up at me. I smiled-no smirked, sheepishly and he cocked his head to one side, as if wondering what I was thinking, or knowing what I was thinking and slowly a smile spread across his incredible face as if beckoning me to him.

I started down the steps without giving it a second thought. I was  caught up to him when my foot landed at an odd angle on the next step and I felt a sharp pain stab in my bad knee and we go again my knee buckled as my hand flew to the railing. I caught the railing and my hand slid down Shit! Ow! A sharp pain shot up my palm and I instinctively jerked my hand back... Oh Shit! I hit a wall.

The pain grew sharper by the second as I made contact with him, and I pressed my face into his shoulder as tears began to run down my face. His free arm flew around my back protectively, comfortingly, as his other hand stayed glued to the railing to keep us both in place. I felt his warm breath on the back of my neck as he brought his face down to rest his cheek on my shoulder. Oh god. How wonderful... Ow!  My hand! My knee! We stood, motionless, except for my tears dripping silently off my nose onto his shirt. After a moment, my heart slowed and he whispered, “Can you make it the rest of the way down?” Again the vibration of his voice, soothing, familiar, moved like a current through me, his whispering tone full of concern. “I think so.” I spoke softly into his shoulder, my words muffled. He gently twisted his body keeping his one hand secured to the railing, and in one slow fluid motion, me turned around, his arm around my waist, supporting with incredible strength. I curled my hurt hand to my chest, not wanting to look at it, took a deep breath, and starting with my good leg, continued down the stairs, letting him take my weight when I needed to use my wrenched knee. 

We made it to the bottom, and in the next moment, in one swift motion he scooped me up, cradling me in his arms. What the!? Careful of my injuries, he started walking towards a grouping of logs. I vaguely wondered how he could be carrying me with such ease; after all, I am five foot eleven, and an Amazonian 150 lbs. I felt foolish... as the edges of my vision blurred, darkened, my eyes became heavy. I felt him gently prop me against a log, deftly removing my backpack and camera, and I think he was asking me something...

I was floating. Floating... drifting. It felt like lying on an air mattress floating on the ocean, undulating, peaceful... wonderful... dreamy. In the distance I heard a long ripping sound, and idly wondered if my air mattress was failing... a scream, steadily growing louder and louder and my eyes shot open without seeing - I felt fire searing my hand  - in an instant I realized the scream was tearing from my own throat. Holy Shit! I sat up sharply and my forehead encountered something unyielding. Ow! As the fire continued to burn, my senses were filled with a delicious scent. Him!  I leaned into the solid mass of his chest closing my eyes and wishing the fire away. I felt hands on my shoulders easing me back to the log, gently, smoothly my hand was manipulated, turned this way and that, something cool dousing the flames.

The burning subsided and I tentatively opened one eye. Ah, things started to come into focus, and as my eye traveled around toward my hand, I saw his eyes, deep green pools peering at me inquisitively.  I opened my other eye. I drew a ragged breath and exhaled slowly. The fire was smouldering now, much more tolerable. My knee felt tight and swollen, pulsing deep inside with its own more familiar fire. 

“Wow. Saved twice in one day - exciting.” My voice was shaky. “Mmm...Yeah, not so much.” He looked anxious. “Thank You – again.” I breathed.  He tried to explain. “You passed out. I thought it was a good time to get the chunk of wood out of your hand.” He exhaled, looking strained. “I’m sorry I hurt you... when you screamed... I never meant to cause you pain...”  I glanced down, seeing the gray plaid wrapped neatly around my hand. I looked back up at him, smiling softly, trying to assuage his concern, noticing one entire sleeve was missing from his shirt, and tried hard not to notice the exposed arm, tanned and powerfully built. Oops. Too late. I noticed. Did he notice me noticing? I took a steadying breath and tentatively moved my sore leg, while turning my hand I inspect the damage. I winced from both movements, unsure which one felt worse. “You might want to take it easy.”

I nodded at his sagely advice, pulling my pack toward me with my good hand. I felt around inside, extracting a zip loc bag and water bottle. Opening the bag with my teeth and fingers, I removed half a sandwich, extending my hand towards him. He smiled as he reached for it, taking a huge bite. I took a small bite of my half, watching his face visibly relaxing as we ate. I saw slight changes cross his expression, but none I could decipher. “I didn’t know I was hungry!”  He beamed as he swallowed. “That was good, thanks.” I handed him the water bottle. His hand covered mine as he reached for it, and he held still searching my eyes. “Are you feeling any better?” “Yeah, I am, thanks to you.” Some of the anxiousness crept back into his gaze. “I can’t help but think I caused this... I mean, if you came on your own, I don’t think...” He said. “Get out, I don’t think...” I countered. “No, I think I’ve thrown you off balance, you had your own game plan, and I came along and...” “Seriously, it’s fine; I wanted you to join me, geez, what if I been alone and wiped out on those stairs...” I shuddered. He reached out his free hand and brushed my cheek, his fingers following the curve of my jaw. I closed my eyes for a moment, the coolness of his touch soothing away the visions of myself in a crumpled heap at the base of the stairs.

His other hand tightened around mine as we both still held the water bottle. “I’m sorry.” He said softly as his eyes searched the sand in front of him. “I’m not sure why I did that just now, I just... wanted to... comfort you.” He slowly drew his face up and met my eyes. “I’m not sure...” he hesitated. “I feel... you seem... so...familiar.” His struggle was palpable, very like my own attempts to put a finger on what was happening. I sighed, the sound coming out in a soft hum. Great. “I think I know what you mean.” I narrowed my eyes looking harder into his, as if I could find an answer in them. “When you touched my face...” I continued to search his eyes. “Well, I... it...seemed natural, expected, and it... well, it felt good.” I felt heat rising up my neck to my cheeks. “Ever since I... we... ran into each other, I’ve been trying to figure out what’s going on.” As I finished, it was as if his whole face began to glow. “I know- me too. It’s un-nerving, but don’t get me wrong, I am thoroughly enjoying myself...except the part where you got hurt of course.” We both smiled. His smile and glowing face was beautiful and confusing me further. I felt a need to explain. “It’s not like I agree to go walking alone in the woods with strangers all the time.  I’ve never... I mean, I try my best not to seem alone, not to attract attention...”  He tilted his head sideways slightly, his lips parting, causing my stomach to flutter. I felt giddy. “I have never approached anyone in the woods and asked if I could join them on their walk. It’s totally unlike me to do something like that. I asked before I knew I was speaking. I fully expected you to decline; I was shocked you accepted.” He suddenly looked shy. “I am pleased you did accept.”

We sat looking at each other, feeling like we confessed our souls to one another. Silence hung in the air. “Daniel.” As he spoke his name aloud for the first time, I felt detached from everything for a moment, as if time stood still for me alone. Where did I go? “Alexis.” I breathed. I was not sure what to make of his response, yet he continued to look into my eyes as I spoke my name. It was all surreal, I think for both of us, sitting on the beach, not knowing each other, yet inexplicably connected.

I began to move, slowly, twisting my body, giving him the water bottle and placing my good hand on the log as I pushed myself up to a standing position, putting all my weight on my good leg. I wavered. “Are you sure...?” He was up in a flash, standing directly in front of me supporting me with his hands firmly on my hips. “I want to get my knee in the water, I think it will help.” “Okay, uh, can I help?” He did not look convinced I could move. “I want to try... see if I can walk.” His hands slowly left me, and I felt the warmth of them linger on me. He moved to the side watching me intently, and I took a small step toward the water. So far, so good.

Another step, deliberate and cautious, I nodded my minutely as if assuring him I was okay. “My knee has been bejiggered for years, its fine for a long time, then one wrong step...” I explained as I made my way closer to the waves lapping on the shore as he followed. “Apparently I am far too young for a knee replacement.” I sounded exasperated as I bent and undid my laces with one hand. I stepped out of my shoes and pulled off my socks, wobbling, he was near enough to catch my fall, but I stayed upright.

Ahhhhh... I stepped into the icy water, and continued carefully to deeper water. The waves washed over the hem of my capris, and I took another few steps and both my knees were submerged. “Oh yeah!” I rejoiced in the cooling, soothing, healing of the frigid ocean. “Isn’t it freezing?” He stood on the shore and looked at me like I was nutty, standing in the pacific ocean past my knees in the late September weather. “No way, not when it has the power to heal!” I  nearly yelled. “I’ve lived on this island my entire life, and I will never get enough of its power and beauty.” I spoke from my soul. His expression changed to a look of joy matching my own, shaking his head as he watched me revel. “You are a most interesting being Alexis, I am more drawn to you every minute.” He was at the edge above the waves reach. He bent down and removed his hiking boots and socks, pulled his pant legs as high as he could, and placed one foot into the water. He hissed loudly and his breath hitched. “That is SOOOO cold!” but he took another step. He held his face in a tight grimace, braving the cold to join me. I enjoyed his slow progress, not many I know would brave these waters to be near me. “I am extremely impressed with you Daniel; I thought I was the only one crazy enough to play in an ocean this cold.” I gave him what I hoped was a winning smile, to convey the depth of my feeling.

He reached my side, and manoeuvred himself to stand a couple feet away directly in front of me and looked into my face with such an incredible expression my heart  leapt and began thudding in my chest, simultaneously feeling myself flush at the sudden welling of emotions I felt. He slowly reached out his hand and tenderly lifted my good hand and brought it to his chest. I placed my hand flat, applying pressure, feeling his heart pounding like my own. His hand, still covering mine tightened, pressing my hand into him as he closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky. Oh my god...He was absolutely magnificent; his faced bathed in sunlight, his wild hair dancing in the breeze, I stared in awe, my breath catching in my throat, my heart beating at an even faster rate. None of this struck me as inappropriate. It did not seem sexual or erotic, yet, it was– so powerfully intimate!

He stepped closer, my hand fell down to my side, and he pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around me. I laid my face on his chest, closing my eyes, inhaling his sweet fresh earthy scent and my arms curled around his back. He bent his face into my hair, took a deep breath and sighed. “You smell wonderful.”  I remembered to breathe. “You smell great yourself.”

He pulled back and as my eyes opened, his brow creased. “Alexis.” His voice was hoarse with emotion, and I stopped breathing altogether. Hearing him say my name, it was too good, too much. I took a step back, taking his hand in mine, and silently led him to shore. My knee was much better, from both the ocean’s coolness and the complete distraction of our embrace.