chapter twelve / law of salvage

Every person on the island dwelled behind a mask. Some were decorated in iridescent jewels, others remained a blank space. The daintiest of pearls and sundial shells embellished hers, reflecting the lowering sun's tirade and shielding the world from the myriad of subtleties inked into the lines of her face that would tell all the truths she was unwilling to confront.

In denial of past events of only twenty minutes ago, Ilyshah clobbered along the sand dunes in mental shackles ahead of JJ and Pope. She picked up the pace as she spotted Spencer failing to wrangle eight fourth graders on his lonesome, when they took wind of her approaching presence—not even the roaring force of nature behind them could drown out the jovial shrills as one by one, they engulfed her legs in a clambering frenzy.

"Miss Lyshah! Miss Lyshah!" They collectively exclaimed.

   As she circled her Splash Surf Class clad in their rashies with lines of fading lime green zinc daubed on their faces, she was pulled in several directions; from the starfishes Melody and Briana painted on their short boards to Lucas stealing her attention to show off his backflip, the missing front tooth of Kai's and her mango lacquered surfboard they all collectively waxed for her. The sea breeze rippled through the sand banked classroom and diffused any lingering remnants of a hangover as she walked the fine line of an authoritative air dipped in a honey soaked tone.

Spencer gave a dumbfounded look as he approached, cradling in his arms a crying baby who looked no more than two-years-old, "where've you been?"

"Just got caught up that's all," she brushed off the subject quickly, gasping dramatically as she pinched the red splotchy cheeks of the baby in his grasp and raised the pitch of her voice, "whose bubba is this?"

Their student Morgan with long, brass curls raised her hand. "That's my baby brother Owen!"

"Since when did we become the babysitters club?" He asked dryly; Ilyshah shushed him and took the baby into her arms, calming him down by bouncing him on the crevice of her hip as Spencer herded all eight kids to take them through drills of paddling and mounting their boards.

    JJ Maybank interrupted the class with Pope by his side, his surfboard glued to his torso as the sea dripped from the blonde strands curled at his temple. "This is cute. . . two Kooks trying to teach little Pogies how to surf."

She cocked her eyebrows at the insinuation as baby Owen babbled and played with her tousled hair. "Eh, think you can do better?"

"Ask anyone, I'm one of the best surfers around these parts," he insisted smugly then pointed out a boy with light mousy curls and beckoned him over, "Kai—he's my cousin—Kai, you think I'm the best surfer right?"

      Kai scratched at his scalp, screwing up his face. "I think Miss Lyshah's better."

   Ilyshah clicked her tongue and plastered on a smirk as she turned to JJ, his expression intertwined with disbelief that blood wasn't thicker than water to an eight-year-old. "We could settle this another way," the ominous question piqued his interest as he tilted his chin upwards and she hoped the baby resting on her hip wouldn't undercut her tone, "—two fifteen minute heats, whoever ends up with the most impressive carves earns bragging rights."

     JJ narrowed his eyes at her in skepticism. "And who would be the judges?" then followed her eyes by darting his between Spencer and Pope, "right, our geek friends who wouldn't dare to be biased," his comment earned scornful looks from the two as he nodded profusely.

Ilyshah patted Spencer twice on the shoulder after she handed over baby Owen to him, whispering—the kids will learn a thing or two.

The aftermath of Agatha laid an unmatched curse on the eastern seaboard, but her claw back to redemption over the days left the swells a resplendent beauty as their boards skimmed along the gold drenched sea that was their battleground. No artillery fire abound, yet it felt like life or death the way she paddled and duck dived ahead of JJ until her shoulders burned. positioning herself in the crest of a wave ready to foam up.

    With her feet now facing the distant sea, she planted them firmly onto her board as it rose before gliding down vertical wall of water, soaring on tides sucking in the kelp below into the current as the shallows sprayed back onto her skin. The words of her dad echoed catching the wave is only the start, mastering it is another and she heeded them by playing it safe rather than sorry, easing herself into the first mellow set with no room left for failure in her cutback.

   Only where she eased in, JJ cruised along the North Carolinian waves he knew like the back of his hand; soaring 360 off the lip of his first wave in a rio as Ilyshah floated in the wings of the calm swell, half in awe and quiet intimidation as she spotted John B and Kiara watching on from the distance in amusement. Maybe it was naïveté after all to dip her toes where they didn't belong, matching herself up to someone who mastered this coastline before she even knew of its existence.

    "Don't tell me you're throwing in the towel already princess!" JJ shouted from behind her, flashing a toothy smile from ear to ear.

             "As if, cowboy!"

   A half hour of barrels, carves and roundhouse cutbacks sent them into an unknowing overtime. It was an Atlantic coastal affair that could stretch out for hours on end until the sun gave up on them, if only it weren't the kids in her class refusing the sit any longer as Spencer signaled for them to return to the shore where he and the Pogues were congregated. As their shortboards hit the wet sand, they choked on the salty surrounds as they gasped for air with both hands laid flat on their knees.

    "So, who won?" JJ asked breathlessly.

Pope and Spencer shot eachother side glance before both chorusing. "Ilyshah."

"Yo, what?!" He exclaimed as the kids gleefully embraced her one by one, earning eyebrow raises from the group, "did neither of you see that rio?"

Pope protested. "Dude, you know that doesn't actually earn big points at surf comps—plus, she climbed the foamer which you didn't even attempt."

    "JB, back me up man."

John B crossed his arms stoically, not giving away his verdict until his lips gave way into a grin and he outstretched his fist to meet hers. "What did I tell ya, JJ? Not a Kook bone in her body out there."

One last plea. "Kie—"

"I'm starting up the twinkie," she rolled her eyes and trudged off with her board to the car park.

Mellowing in chagrin, JJ sighed as he dipped his head. In a final admission of defeat, he straightened his back and offered up his hand, "I'll get you back next time," a confused hum left his lips as she yanked the handshake to close the gap between them.

"So long as you never call me a Kook again."

He gleamed with a crooked smirk, dazed by the lack of distance and newfound mischief behind the harmonic walls she put up. "Yes ma'am."

     Dusk loomed over the fish shack by the marsh as crickets chirped from all angles. New rituals replaced the old, and if it were any old summer night Ilyshah would be at Spencer's house playing Just Dance with Sarah or having a movie night as a trio, only he couldn't have gotten out of the vicinity fast enough after parents picked up their sunsick kids from the beach carpark. In skittish abandonment, the Pogues came to her rescue with a lukewarm beer in hand to welcome her into the fold as she clinked the bottleneck against John B's and swiveled to make herself comfortable on the striped hammock across from Kiara and beside JJ.

    "I've never seen anyone show up this guy like that before," John B taunted, reaching out to slap his shin and wincing bracingly. "Must've hurt to lose in front of Kai too."

    Ilyshah chuckled as JJ retaliated by kicking away his hand. "Yeah I wouldn't come to the point when our class is on—you'll probably get bullied by my kids all summer now," her sly gaze turned to meet his as their arms brushed against each other.

   Laughter filled the balmy summer night air the tipsier they got as small talk ripened into their life stories starting from fourth-grade anecdotes of JJ pinching Kie's barbie hair styling doll head to pose it in John B's bed as his "girlfriend", eventually arriving in the land of dreams. Fun fact: your eyeballs flatten after you die like a deflated grape, thanks for the visual Pope.

She contently listened in and soaked up each story, giggling at the inside jokes despite them making no sense to her. After all, it took the attention away as calculatingly intended, until she was strung back into the spotlight.

    "What about you, Ilyshah? Why'd you leave New Zealand for the Outerbanks?" Pope questioned, directing all hopeful eyes to her. "Are your parents coming to visit soon?"

"Oh, they're dead," Ilyshah impassively stated, dragging out a dead panned expression until she read the shell shocked faces before her and faltered with a grin. "Nah, I'm just bein' a dick—they're too busy with my brothers and sisters to come visit, too many of 'em."

Breaking the ice gave way from shards to a glacier. A sickness burgeoned in the pit of her stomach as their nervous laughter carried more curiosity about her reasons for moving here, a sickness once well hidden under layers of dry retorts and saintly facades. Laid at her feet every day, a carefully written script and no line was to be forgotten or misread. Not one.

Ilyshah shoved past her brother, Tāmati out of the marae and slipped her sandals back on as she began the two kilometre journey back home. Disbelief giving way to girlhood rage.

"Lysh! Lysh, wait," Tāmati pleaded as he caught up and grabbed her arm.

She wrestled out of his hold. "You knew, didn't you? You knew this whole time Tāma!" She cried, tears threatening to spill at any moment. "I know it's not just a party for me."

"You think mum and dad have any choice?" He argued fervently, "you think any of us have a choice here?"

Ilyshah continued, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Really I'm here because I always wanted to study law so—" she clicked her tongue and shot a finger gun, "—undool decided to send me to law school here to save me taking out a loan if I stayed home."

"Law school?"

               "Woah."

                      "Holy shit."

                             "What field?"

     "Environmental," Ilyshah nodded sheepishly at Pope's follow up question as Kiara's face lit up, "plan after that is to help the whanau back home with land disputes, Lord knows there's enough . . . protect it from overdevelopment, keep the coast clear of commercial fishing."

"See Pope, she gets it—giving one hundred percent to the environment, bare minimum," Kiara lazily raised her finger as he rolled his eyes and delved into the impossible logistics behind that percentage.

With Kiara's face dimly lit from the moonlight and Ilyshah distracted in conversation with Pope, she mouthed a subtle 'I love her' to JJ as he fidgeted with his bracelets, biting back a smile to himself.

   It progressed into a comfortable silence when they noticed the turning tide of John B's mood as Ilyshah traced the notches forming a spiral on the greenstone with her nail meditatively, waiting on an answer.

    "Can I see that again?" John B requested in a low murmur, Ilyshah reached over to drop the pendant into his waiting hand.

    She commented as he inspected it closely. "I was gonna show undool, he's worked with pounamu before . . . but then he'd ask me where I got it from and I haven't made up a story yet," he nodded and fell into the silent pondering she knew too well by now.

  "You really think it's out there? Like, no bullshit?" Pope prompted, tearing John B out of his trance.

   "My father thought it was."

             "But do you?"

   "After hearing his voice on that tape, I think I do."

        "Only one way to find out," Pope commented in exchange of a secret handshake between the two.

     Kiara added. "Look, we're gonna find it, y'know. . . Even JJ believes."

  "Oh, my god JJ—do you really believe?" John B gave a stifled gasp.

        JJ hummed in agreement. "Totally. Wait, are we talkin' about four mil?"

"Four hundred mill," Kie and Pope chorused, "Jinx."

    JJ sighed as he shuffled into a comfortable slumber. "I'm gonna dream about shipwrecks," he tilted his head until it was mere inches away from hers, his hot breath fanning over her ear, "and thrashing you on an overhead next time," he murmured and chuckled from the elbow he copped to his side, "good night, bird."

"Good night, bird shit."

   The hum of a dew dropped morning saw Ilyshah awake on a plush sofa out on the porch of THE CHATEAU. The night after a day of choice surf always knocked her out like this putting her in the deepest slumber to make up for all those nights of blown pupils and ticking brains at two am. She cracked her eyes open as light flooded her vision, her refined focus landing upon JJ perched upon the arm of the sofa, the slyness of his pearly molars meshing with the golden sunlight haloing around his temple.

"Did y'know you drool in your sleep? So adorable," JJ taunted in a mumble through the toothpick wedged between his teeth.

She rubbed her eye with a balled fist, "how did I get here?" She rasped.

"Oh, I carried you up. You're a heavier sleeper than I am."

—he carried me up? I was unknowingly in his—nope, don't think about that.

She propped herself up, the light porcelain sheet covering her folded in on itself as her eyes dropped into a stare of skepticism. "And you've been watching me sleep for how long?"

Pope interjected, slapping the back of his hat as he passed to put on his sneakers. "Yeah, stop being a creep, JJ."

"I wasn't—I was just checking if she was still breathing," he argued, hardly persuading either of them as she eyed him then got up and sauntered away, not turning back to meet his gaze at her backside as he flipped his red cap backward and gnawed at his bottom lip. "We're leaving in ten, Miss Lyshah!" He called out, earning a middle finger from behind her back at his cheek.

    God had a peculiar sense of humour sending her worlds away from the Waimatā river where the Earth sang to her every morning and bringing her right back as she flushed the murky water of the marshside across her cheeks—the best one could do in a fish shack with no power or running water. An even more peculiar humour that five miles up the Kildare Trail, nobody had this problem and spritz their lush scapes to their hearts content. But there was more on her mind that morning than the rocky borderline between The Cut and Figure Eight.

Dead calm.

   The ocean made few if any promises, it's shells and fish following an ever flowing cascade of tune. Ilyshah counted on only one granted promise would be the answer to her burning questions, and it all started with the drop of a stolen drone on the high side of the continental shelf.

"To going full Kook."

Today, they were seamen of the deck crew all with distinct roles. Pope on the drone feed, Kie and Ilyshah feeding the tether through their palms into the depths below, JJ steering from the cockpit and John B captaining the entire operation. The vanilla cream clouds blanketed over the sky gave a short lived sense of security, but they knew waiting for a perfect day would never come—it was now or never.

Four hundred feet.

    As Kiara marked the fourth notch edge of the boat with Ilyshah taking hold of the tether, mother nature was making it obvious she wasn't holding up her end of the bargain. Dark clouds rolled in joined by a thunderous rumble as the tide turned, and like a dog yanking on its leash the tether became an arduous task to control alone.

   "Keep the tether out of the prop!" John B shouted as Kiara and Ilyshah wrangled with the tether steering towards the back.

              "We're trying!"

      The wind started picking up, sending the anemometer off the richter scale as calamity inched ever closer. Sets of waves pummelled in more frequently, rocking the boat with a force so strong her heart rate picked up at the thought of toppling over in the middle of nowhere. As a kid, she would paddle out the furthest of all her cousins until dry land resembled a tiny speck and a tranquil solace settled in to her fingertips—but this was different, this was a sea she was still yet to know.

   Nine hundred.

               Nine twenty.

      "John B, there's too much current! We're gonna lose it!" cried Kie, beckoning Ilyshah to get behind her to help restrain the tether.

"South, southwest JJ—hard!" She looked her to her side at JJ heeded every one of John B's directives, steering with precision while keeping his cool, "half speed, steady at this bearing, JJ!"

                          Nine sixty.

                                            Nine seventy.

                                                          Nine eighthy.                 

        Pope shouted thrice. "I'm at the bottom!"

Ilyshah and Kiara abandoned their post at the tether, huddling at the live feed as four sets of frantic eyes poured onto the screen. When a school of fish dissolved and lead them to a heavenly vision—it was the divinely corroded answer to the dreams of those who sought it most.

"It's the Royal Merchant."

Whale Rider ━━ JJ Maybank
Chapter Twelve, Law of Salvage
Outerbanks S1 ━━ Ep. 3 The Forbidden Zone.