(photo from http://www.theenergylibrary.com/taxonomy/term/2341)

They sat in his car watching the sunset. It was late an a warm spring evening. Everytime she looked in his eyes she saw more than just her reflection in them. She could see her joys, her pain, her hopes and her dreams. She felt safe with him; state to state and coast to coast . When they were together it felt like nothing else in the world mattered. She knew his spirit was even stronger than his talent. His soul was as free as the wild horses they had seen during their travels.  He was without fear of the risk he took daily, facing every challenge; and in return she had no fear for him. She would go to any length with or for him and he for her; this was how they knew love.  Their love was an unstoppable force; when they loved the earth moved.   But she knew in her heart she couldn’t keep him; he was the best surfer in the world. It was a dangerous sport and like any sport thre are only so many greats. Ali,Pete rose,Jordan and Rick phares.

Rick was one of the greats of surfing; he had been doing it all his life. He had ridden waves around the world: Australia, Africa, California, Hawaii.  He had met Sharica a year ago in Rio and they had been together since. There had been many beautiful women there, but they could not compare to her. Now they were sitting in the front seat of his car on the coast of Maui. They didn’t speak a word; but they spoke to one another through their eyes. There was a storm brewing that would surely bring some 30 foot breaks for the next day’s competition. Waves big enough to to kill in an instant; crush a man against the jaged coral .three or four Waves that could hold a man under for minutes at a time.

Sharica was only three years old when she lost her father.  There was revolution or war on the streets of Rio every day; some people had guns some fought with sticks and stones.  Often the police came with their guns; tear gas and water cannons. He had been trampled by his own people as they ran from the police that attacked the crowd. Her mother had never recovered from the loss; everyone said she died of heartbreak leaving Sharica alone at the age of nine. It had left her feeling like death was no stranger to her. Her aunt, who raised her,  ran  in a saloon on the coast often frequented by American Navy men that helped her learn English. As soon as she was old enough she had waited tables to earn her salary and tips. She learned the ways of the world speaking english working in that bar with her Auntie keeping a close eye and making sure no harm came to her over the years.

Year after year Sharica had grown more beautiful.  Her hazel eyes were highlighted by the darkness of her jet black hair. Many men told her they  thought she looked like a godess.  Her friends always told her she should be a model. She had no time for modeling between working at the bar and spending the rest of her time at the beach.  She had gone to the beach every day she could she used to tell her Aunt she was waiting for something in the sunset. One day when she was in the middle of an especially beautiful one a well built man with blue eyes and blonde hair had walked up to her carrying a surf board. He had said, “There is another world past that sunset,” and walked away. It was like a spark in her mind, she had sat there thinking about what he had said until she was late for work. When she arrived at work her Aunt had teased her about staring at sunsets again.  By the time she put on her apron and began taking orders she saw Rick and his friends standing at the bar.

 

To be continued…

 

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