Coincidence - Alan May [91]
The photo showed a group of musicians looking at the same time both exotic and strangely familiar. They stood in typical rock band lineup, surrounded by the usual array of sound and lighting equipment, but more than half of the group was outfitted in traditional Polynesian style—nearly naked but for feathers, grasses, body paint in elaborate designs, and tattoos. Others wore blue jeans and baseball caps turned backward. Their music, the poster said, was a fusion of ancient Polynesian rhythms and modern latino, rock, pop, reggae, and jazzy, played on instruments ranging from electric keyboard to horse jaw.
Dan’s mind began to churn with the possibilities—a low-angle shot at slow speed to capture the awesome power and movement of the performance, then maybe some behind-the-scenes candids, with the wild-looking guys doing something thoroughly modern …
“As for me,” Pierre was saying, “there are rocks to climb and caves to explore and body surfing and—”
“I’m beginning to hope it’ll take a couple of weeks to fix the ship or we’ll never fit it all in,” Chris said.
As Melissa stepped out of the Zodiac, Pierre slipped the shell necklace he’d bought at the market over her head and bent over to kiss her cheek.
“Iorana,” he said, having just learned the rapanui word from the vendor. “It means bonjour.”
After a brief consultation, the group, with the exception of Nancy, who wanted to wait in Hanga Roa until Michael arrived, decided to rent bicycles and go first to Ana Kakenga, a cave just a short ride from town.
“It’s an ancient lava tube,” Dan told them. “It splits at the end into two ‘windows’ that overlook a steep drop down to the ocean. That’ll all be silhouetted no matter what time of day we get there, and then by the time we go on up the coast, the sun will be lower down and not so harsh. Perfect.”
Nancy gazed at the row of boats at the fisherman’s harbor, hoping Dan would give her a picture of it. There was no doubt in her mind he’d have taken one; how could he have resisted the repetition of shape in the ten or twelve little boats tied up at the dock, combined with their contrasting colors—red, yellow, blue, green, and red again—all set off against the azure water?
“I bet you’re thinking about Andy again, aren’t you?”
Michael’s voice came from just behind her left ear, startling her out of her reverie. She was further startled to realize that she had not been thinking about Andy—had not, in fact, thought about him in some time.
The realization made her feel slightly guilty. It was exactly what everyone had predicted would happen, and exactly what she had vehemently denied ever could. She had been so certain that she and Andy could weather any amount of separation. But it was not, she understood now, simply a matter of separation. So much had taken place since she had left home. She was a different person now, not at all the same girl she’d been when she had begun the voyage. And Andy? Had he become a different person, too?
And either way, if he had or if he had not, would he be right for her now?
She turned and smiled at Michael, and put her hand in his.
At Anakena Bay, Dan rummaged through his camera bag in search of his polarizing filter while the others headed straight for the water. He would need the filter to keep the spectacularly clear deep cerulean sky from looking washed out on film. Anakena was one of two sandy beaches on the island, and Pierre and Melissa could hardly wait to dive in. This spot was the very image of a tropical paradise; but for the ahu with six standing Moai beside a grove of palm trees and several more toppled on the ground, they might have been anywhere in Polynesia.
The warm water felt delicious on Melissa’s skin. It was as if the serene sea were washing away all the tension that had accumulated in her body over the past days. She thought she had held up fine through all the stress, but as she floated, she could feel layer after layer of anxiety sloughing off and being replaced by a sense of blissful tranquility.