The Shape of Family Page 18

  Just like the Space Rangers hovering in outer space, looking out at the planets, you can see the real world doesn’t look at all like you expected: everything seems smaller, simpler, quieter at a distance. The real world is all an illusion. It’s all in how you see it.

  Sanctuary

  30 | karina

  JANUARY 1, 2015

  Micah arrived with Jeremy and August the next morning to help Karina move. As they all carried boxes down to the parking lot, Karina recalled how different it had felt in September, lugging her stuff alone after James’s unexpected betrayal. She realized with satisfaction that New Year’s Eve had just passed without even a thought of James or his proposed reunion. When the apartment was emptied, Karina felt no nostalgia as she left her keys on the kitchen counter. Before they drove off, Micah said, “We should do something special to celebrate Karina moving in. How about we drive down the coast to that cove with the awesome burrito shack and catch some waves?” He turned to Karina. “Have you ever surfed?”

  Karina shook her head. She had spent short periods of time at the beach over the last few years: at a freshman orientation party, a field trip with one of her environmental science classes, the weekend she and James lost their virginity together. She had always stayed on shore to be safe, though she enjoyed the sensation of her feet pressing into packed wet sand and the water lapping at her ankles.

  Micah opened the van door. “I’ll teach you. You’ll love it.”

  Karina tried to fight the nervous energy building in her chest as she followed the van in her car, but by the time they arrived at the cove, she was on edge about what was to come. The roar of the water filled her ears. The guys stripped down to their shorts and Micah untethered the surfboards that were always tied to the top of his van. “I’ll just watch this time,” Karina said. “I don’t have a suit.”

  Micah dusted sand from the boards. “You can wear my wet suit.” He tossed it to her, turned to face the ocean, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply; then he hoisted the board under his arm and began running toward the beach. August and Jeremy took off after Micah with the other board. Standing there alone, Karina stepped into the wetsuit, feeling herself caught between the attraction that drew her toward Micah and the fear that held her back. She took a deep breath and followed them down to the water’s edge.

  August and Jeremy got into the water while Micah stayed on the beach to explain the basic principles of surfing to Karina, drawing out a phantom board with a stick in the sand. He showed her where to position her feet when she stood up and how to balance her weight; he had her practice “popping up” from the face-down paddling position to standing. All this required concentration and core strength, and she found herself perspiring in the sun.

  She grabbed his arm after ten minutes of practice. “Micah, why don’t you just go? I’ll wait here, really.”

  Micah stopped, looking at her. “You can swim, right?”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  He placed his hands on her shoulders, looking into her eyes. “Fear is the biggest thing holding you back in life, Karina. You’ll feel so much stronger once you do this. Trust me?”

  She nodded, wanting to believe him.

  “Good. I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

  She told herself this was not a stupid thing to do as Micah tethered the board strap to her ankle and led her toward the water. He stayed right next to her, coaching her as she entered the ocean, jumped over the waves and paddled out beyond the break. The familiar sensation of being buoyed by the surf reminded her why she’d loved the ocean so much as a child. As she lay face-down on the board, Micah treaded water as they waited patiently for the right wave. “I’ll count to three and push you in front of the wave, then you pop up, just like we practiced, okay?”

  “Okay,” Karina said, taking in the expanse of open water in front of her. In her mind, she saw the image of herself as the mermaid superhero that Prem had drawn in Hawaii. Micah counted, “One . . . two . . . three!” She felt the board thrust forward, as if powered by motor. Hearing Micah’s instructions, she reflexively jumped into a crouch-standing position. The board skimmed the surface of the water like a seagull. Karina felt a split moment of exhilaration, air rushing past her ears, before she lost her balance and tumbled off the board, plunging into the water.

  When she got her feet beneath her, August was running from the beach to take the board from her. He carried it out of the water and she sat down, coughing from the salt water in her lungs. Her nose and eyes were burning and goosebumps rose on her skin from the cool air, but she was astounded at what had just happened: she had flown across the ocean, like she belonged there.

  Micah had swam toward shore and was now walking toward her, beaming. “You did it!” he yelled. “How do you feel?”

  Karina coughed again as August draped a thick beach towel around her shoulders. She pulled it closer as she shivered. “Like . . . I was flying.”

  “You’re a natural.” Micah shook his head. “You know how hard it is to get up on the board the first time?”

  “Yeah, you looked fluid,” August agreed.

  “Until I fell.” Karina laughed.

  “We all fall,” Micah said. “You should see the wipeouts I’ve had.” He pointed to a small white scar over his left eyebrow. “Got this one at Bondi.” He extended a hand to help her up. “I’m really proud of you.”

  They had a quick lunch at the burrito shack, and Karina enjoyed the feeling of warm sun on her body, her toes digging into the sand, even the roar of the ocean nearby. She hadn’t been immersed in water like that since their swimming pool in Los Altos, and had forgotten the pleasure of it, having been haunted for so long by its other associations. As they ate, Karina watched other surfers riding waves, amazed that she had done what they were doing: moving effortlessly in the water, defying gravity and her fears.

  “Thanks, Micah,” Karina said as they walked away from the beach. “You were right, about how that would feel.”

  Micah smiled at her. “Everything you want is on the other side of fear, Karina.”

  * * *

  After arriving at the house, Micah took Karina upstairs to the theater room. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he said, pointing out the ornate gold-leaf ceiling. “People used to sit here in the dark, staring at a screen instead of connecting with each other. I’ll let you get settled before dinner.” Before leaving, he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Karina was startled, then delighted, and finally told herself it must have been a platonic gesture, even as she wished it was something more.

  There was a knock at the door and her heart quickened, thinking it was Micah again. But when she opened the door, she found Ericka, who leaned forward to hug her. “So glad you’re here! We’re neighbors.” She gestured to the room across the hall. “Need help?”

  “Just figuring out where to hang my clothes, since there’s no closet in here.”

  “Put them in our closet, mine and Zoe’s.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to bother you when I need something,” Karina said.

  “What?” Ericka giggled. “Door’s open all the time. Micah must have told you, right? We all keep our doors open, instead of walling ourselves off.”

  “Yeah, right,” Karina said, though she didn’t recall hearing this. “If you don’t mind.” She picked up a stack of clothes and followed Ericka to her room.

  Ericka made space in the closet. “Help yourself. Zoe and I share everything. We don’t need much, just a few outfits each.”

  In the closet, Karina noticed a richly saturated red kurta sewn with tiny mirrors, a more decorative version of the ones her mother wore. “Yours?” She touched the sleeve. “From India?”

  “I wish,” Ericka said. “I got it in Artesia a few years ago. I’ve always wanted to go to India, though, to a yoga retreat or meditation center. I’ve always felt a little Indian in my soul. Does that sound crazy? Have you been? What’s it like?”

  “Not since I was young,” Ka
rina said, still fingering the detailed embroidery of the blouse. She had visited her grandparents all over the world, her cousins in London. Her only connection to India was through Mom, her idols and prayers, her music and dance costumes, the food she prepared. Karina continued to mull this over as she finished unpacking in her room: how half-Korean Ericka could feel Indian in her soul while Karina didn’t know how to feel about it. She tried to match Ericka’s spirit of simplicity, taking out only the items she needed to live, and leaving the rest stashed under her bed before returning downstairs.

  “Hey,” Micah said, putting his arm around her shoulders and drawing her into the kitchen. “We have a special dinner to welcome you.” He pointed to a large roasting pan just out of the oven, holding chickens nestled amongst carrots, parsnips and turnips.

  “Looks amazing,” Karina said.

  “And that,” Micah pointed at the phone in her hand, “you should leave at the front door. We all do. Phones go in a basket in the front coat closet.” He smiled, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners.

  Karina hesitated, accustomed to feeling her phone in her back pocket all the time.

  “Try it,” Micah said. “I bet you’ll like it as much as the rest of us. If not, you can always take it back. But you should make the effort to really be here, with us.”

  “All right.” Karina walked toward the front closet. It was true, she hadn’t seen people using their phones much around the house, nor at the community garden. Maybe that was why time seemed to slow down here. She gingerly placed her phone into the basket with the other phones, wallets and key rings. By the time she returned to the kitchen, dinner was ready. Her mouth watered as she spooned wild rice onto the center of her plate, topped it with chicken and drizzled some sauce from the pan. The aroma of thyme and lemon were heavenly. Her mom’s cooking had become increasingly bland since she’d decided, under the guidance of Guru Brahmananda, that garlic, onions and chilies were not good for her spiritual being.

  They squeezed around the dining table while reggae music played throughout the house. Micah motioned for her to sit next to him. “To the newest member of our family, Karina!” he said, holding up his glass until she picked up the glass of red wine in front of her and clinked his. “I knew as soon as I met you that you were a good person, with a good heart. Now you’re surrounded by good hearts.”

  Ericka held her glass in the air. “Karina, I loved you from the first time you came to the community garden. You’re super-smart and really fun to talk to and hang out with. Welcome, sister!”

  Each person around the table said a few words, welcoming Karina, complimenting her, telling her what they loved about her. She had a sip of wine with each toast and soon found herself feeling emotional. August was the last to speak. “Karina, I was really impressed with your moves on the surfboard today.” Laughter broke out around the table. “Seriously, it takes a lot of courage to try something new. You are fearless, girl! Can’t wait to see what you do next.” He held up his glass and everyone did the same, toasting her, and Karina felt the warmth of red wine slide down her throat.

  31 | karina

  JANUARY 2, 2015

  Her first morning at the house, Karina woke to a deep resonant gong. She felt weighted to her bed from the physical toll of moving and too much red wine the day before. But the sound continued, so she crept out to the hallway. Through the window and the darkness, she saw Micah standing outside next to a large gong as a crowd gathered on the lit patio.

  Behind Karina, a door opened and August hurried past her down the stairs. “Morning meditation,” he said. “Don’t want to be late.”

  “What time is it?” she said, self-conscious in her thin T-shirt and shorts.

  “Six. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.” The gongs increased in frequency. Karina was reluctant to appear out of step with the group, so she trailed August down the stairs.

  Outside, the chilly air raised bumps on Karina’s arms. Everyone was seated in a grid-like formation, cross-legged with eyes closed. A stick of incense burned on the patio table, releasing a sweet fragrance into the air. Micah, standing at the front of the group, pointed to an open spot in the front corner of the patio, where Karina took a seat in the same position as the others.

  “Close your eyes,” Micah intoned in a low voice. “Follow your breath as it enters and leaves your body, making each breath deeper and longer than the last.” Karina tried to focus on his instructions but found herself straining to discern which way he was moving, when he was close to her. The breathing of those around her was audibly heavy.

  “Breathe.” Micah modeled a long, deep breath. “Breathe in . . . breathe out.” Karina tried to follow his rhythm. “Pay attention to your thoughts.” He spoke in a voice that seemed to be right on her. Karina shivered again as a light breeze passed over her. She straightened her spine and pushed her shoulders back. “If there are intrusive thoughts, gently push them away,” Micah said, from somewhere farther away. “They are not productive; they will not serve you.”

  Scattered, random thoughts entered Karina’s mind: skimming the top of the water on the surfboard, the delicious burrito on the beach, her vacant apartment, James, Yoga Girl and her high ponytail, her little red Fiat, the photo of Karina and James at their picnic, the lizards and coconuts in Ecuador.

  She was startled by the deep, reverberating sound of the gong again, as it rang three times. After its last echo faded away, she opened her eyes, feeling like a failure. The sun was rising now and the view of the distant hills was beautiful, with a light mist on the horizon. Micah nodded toward her as he sat facing the group. She folded her knees in front of her and wrapped her arms around them, mindful of her immodest attire.

  “Karina,” Micah said, “your first time meditating?”

  She nodded. “I’m not very good at it.”

  He smiled. “You’ll get better. It takes daily practice, to calm your mind and direct your thoughts. You’ll have your breakthrough, and it will be beautiful when it happens.” Micah turned to the group. “Does anyone else want to share thoughts about this morning’s practice?”

  August cleared his throat. “It helps . . . it helps center me. I find, on the days I can really focus during the morning meditation, it helps with the cravings.”

  Micah nodded as August spoke. “It helps you avoid thinking about getting high?”

  August rocked a little side to side. “Not stop thinking about it, exactly . . . but stop wanting it so much. It gives me strength to resist, I guess is what I’m saying.”

  Zoe watched him speak, a hint of a smile on her face. After everyone murmured approval for his confession, Zoe reached for his hand and squeezed it.

  * * *

  After meditation, Karina was desperate to crawl back into bed. But as Micah finished speaking, Zoe walked to the front of the group and began passing out yoga mats. Karina reluctantly unrolled one. She hadn’t taken a yoga class since the one with James and Yoga Girl on the quad last year, and images of their two bodies intertwined kept coming unbidden to her mind as she stumbled through the next hour, trying to follow Zoe’s guidance.

  After yoga, Karina followed the others into the kitchen for breakfast. Chef Guy made two big pans of soft scrambled eggs, and Ericka ran a full loaf of whole-grain bread through the toaster. Karina offered to help, but when no one took her up, she poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down, yawning widely.

  “Tired?” August asked, joining her with a plate heaping with food.

  Karina nodded. “I think I need a nap.”

  “You’ll get used to it.” He chuckled. “I used to need nine or ten hours when I was gigging every night. Never got up before noon.” He gestured to the pink- and red-streaked sky. “Missed all those beautiful sunrises for years. Here, it’s so peaceful, I get by with five hours.”

  Karina found that hard to imagine, but if it was true, she supposed it would be helpful. After breakfast, Micah ran through the day’s projects: weeding a field of crops, sp
reading fresh mulch in the citrus grove, mowing the front lawn, raking out the chicken coop. Karina approached Micah. “Hey, did you get those horse brushes? Maybe I can do that today?”

  “Not yet. Maybe later, we can go together,” Micah said. “Why don’t you work on weeding today? You have a great eye for those little insidious ones.”

  It was eight o’clock when they began working outside, and except for a few water breaks, they worked straight through until after noon, when Karina began to feel hungry. “Should we . . . stop for lunch?” she asked Ericka.

  “We don’t usually,” Ericka said, without looking up from the soil. “We don’t stop during our work periods, so we can maintain focus and self-discipline.”

  Karina wasn’t sure what to make of this, but she was reluctant to go back to the house alone when everyone else seemed content to keep working. She drank more water and tried to keep her mind off the gnawing in her stomach. Thankfully, by four o’clock, they were finished. Several people got into the pool to cool off, and Karina went inside to take a shower. She was still wearing the clothes she’d slept in, now covered in perspiration. All she wanted to do was get into bed and sleep for the night, but she was too hungry for that.

  When Karina came back downstairs, the scent of grilling meat greeted her. She strategically took a seat with her back to the pool, where some were still swimming. A bowl of guacamole sat on the table and she dug in hungrily with a tortilla chip. Micah, holding a beer bottle, was monitoring lamb chops on the barbecue. Karina knew she should offer to help with dinner preparations, but she was too exhausted. They ate outside, everyone milling around, in casual conversation.

  She turned to Micah to excuse herself, but before she could speak, he put a hand on her shoulder and said, “Karina, tonight you get to experience one of the most special things we have here, the Music Salon.” Karina followed the others down the hallway, toward the sound of an electric guitar tuning up. The living room featured a large leather sectional, a drum set in the corner, guitars propped on stands and large amps on the floor. Unsure where to sit, Karina perched on one of the couch’s wide leather armrests.