With the first stroke into the welcoming blue sea of Waikiki, PP knows she’s in paradise. What is it about the ocean in Hawaii? Of course, there’s the perfect 82 or so degree temp, then there’s the amazing crystal clarity of the water, but it’s more than this.
She floats along so easily in Waikiki. It’s like the water gently ushers her through its welcoming embrace.
Hell, that sounds like a lover, doesn’t it?
Well, for PP, the waters of Waikiki are so sexy. If she could, she’d never leave their warm caresses.
Okay, enough mushiness. You get the idea—Waikiki is PP’s swimming Paradise. And on this day, swimming out beyond the gently breaking waves to glide over the coral fisheries, PP grins as she reaches out to almost touch a crowded school of adorable yellow and black striped zebra angelfish. This is surely their official name. Or maybe not. In Hawaiian, they’re most probably called aaaaalooouuulllaaapppaaaoooiiieeeee fish….
What is it with the Hawaiian language? So many vowels, so few consonants.
That must be it.
But hell, the fishes don’t care as PP glides over them, this dense bunch scurrying underneath her only inches away. Part of PP gets a little nervous with all the fish. Like she’s going to touch one and what? It’s gonna bite her? Do aaaaalooouuulllapppppoooieee fish bite? She doubts this, but still. There’s a lingering ‘icky’ feeling too in addition to the stronger feeling of wonder and delight whenever she’s in the midst of these wild swimming creatures.
Maybe because of all this emotion and excitement, PP tires after swimming too long parallel to the shore. From their spot down the beach to the beach in front of the Royal Hawaiian, PP figures is probably a good half a mile maybe more and even in the calm of Waikiki, she decides maybe she’ll get out and walk back up the beach.
She so rarely does this. Is always such a stubborn swimmer. If I swam out here, I’m gonna swim back. No matter what.
But today, she changes her mind, and emerging from the turquoisey waters in front of the Royal Hawaiian she hears Dashingly Handsome BF call out to her.
Giggling, she takes off her cap, shakes her wet locks out, unplugs her ears and grins over at him. “What’re you doing up here?”
He waves a pair of goggles at her. “Lookit here!”
”Yeah. Cool, eh? From the ABC store, for only $6.95”
“Gotta love that ABC store!” PP laughs as she slings her wet arm through his dry one and lets him lead her back up the beach.
Five minutes later, she doesn’t see anything except the bright yellow Crime Scene tape roping off a section of the beach. What’s going on? she wonders. Murder on Waikiki? Too bad Owen Hill isn’t here to get the scoop for his next thriller.
As she shades her eyes with one of her big fins, (the sun is too bright, she’s super scared of getting sun burned. The melanoma trauma is too close to the surface in Hawaii, but the swimming is always worth the risk) PP squints to see what’s on the beach…..
What is it?
Lying there in the sand?
It’s not human….
It’s not a fish….
It’s not a dog or a cat (thank goodness)
What could it be with a crowd of people gathered round, cameras flashing, fingers pointing?
Can you guess?