California Awakening

By Mark Sahl

Chapter 1

Luke:

“C’mon Mark. Less than a mile to go.”

Mark’s legs are heavy from the first four miles of their run. The soles of Mark’s bare feet alternatively feel the coolness of the softball and soccer fields’ grass, followed by the mid-afternoon heat of the black asphalt road bordering the fields on Kwajalein, a small boomerang-shaped island in the South Pacific’s Marshall Islands. His T-shirt sticks to his sweaty torso.  

Mark:

“I hear ya.”

Bicyclists on their way home from work pass them. 

Encouraged by Luke’s words, Mark finds a final burst of energy, and the 10-year-old best friends run side by side, their breath fast and even. As they round the final turn, the end comes into sight: the jogging club’s outdoor cork message board. Luke races ahead. 

Luke:

“Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

Mark:

“No fair!”

Luke finishes seconds ahead of Mark. 

They slow to a walk, circling the board several times to cool down. They stop at the board’s tracking chart with one row of squares per member. One filled-in square is one mile run. Luke’s and Mark’s are halfway filled in, and each of the boys darkens in five more squares using the pencil hanging from the board. 

Mark:

“We’ve both done more than 70 miles.”

Luke:

“Not bad.”

The boys walk over to their bikes in the long, rusty bike stand next to the board. They unlock and get on them, riding over to the dependents’ pool close by. After depositing their bikes in a matching stand, Mark and Luke climb the 10 concrete steps at the pool’s entrance and go through the gate of the chain-link fence around the pool. The local hangout is crowded with kids and teenagers, some playfully swimming, others taking turns diving and jumping off the two diving boards at the deep end. Mark and Luke peel off their T-shirts and dive into the refreshing salt water. As Mark swims underwater, he feels his body further cool down. He looks sideways at Luke swimming beside him and then up at the others on the surface. 

Captain Stewart:

“Aloha, folks. Good morning. This is Captain Stewart again.”

The pilot’s deep, reassuring voice startles Mark out of his daydream. 

It’s just before dawn on June 24, 1976, nearly three weeks after his 15th birthday, and he’s a passenger in a 747 winging its way from Honolulu to San Francisco. 30,000 feet over the dark-blue Pacific Ocean, Mark is seated in an economy window seat, and his reclined body is leaning against the plane’s fuselage.

All the window shades are down in the darkened cabin. The flight is full of Hawaiians visiting mainland relatives, tourists at the end of their vacations, and salesmen returning from a national sales meeting in Waikiki. Most are asleep, but some are reading or watching the final scene of Close Encounters of the Third Kind with Richard Dreyfuss. Farrah Fawcett smiles broadly on the cover of the People magazine laying in the empty middle seat next to him, and a pillow and blanket are draped across the empty aisle seat.

As the final movie credits roll, the overhead lights come on. 

Captain Stewart:

“We hope you’ve had a restful night and enjoyed your flight. We’ll be touching down in San Francisco in about an hour. The temperature is 55 degrees, and it’s foggy. Our stewardesses are doing the last cabin check. Mahalo for flying United.”

Mark yawns and stretches his arms and legs.

Sarah, the occupant of the aisle seat, returns from the bathroom. She is 19 and wears an oversized dark-green University of Hawaii sweatshirt and faded bell-bottom jeans. Her feet are bare, and her shoulder-length sun-bleached hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail. Sarah lifts the blanket and pillow off her seat as she sits back down. 

Sarah:

“Hey.”

Mark:

“Hey.”

Sarah:

“You were out of it there for a while.”

Mark:

“Yeah, thinking back. My body clock is off because of the time change.”

Sarah:

“Oh, where are you coming from?”

Mark:

“The Marshall Islands, where I live with my family.”

Sarah:

“Where are the Marshalls?”

Mark:

“Southwest of Hawaii. We’re on Kwajalein Atoll.”

Sarah:

“Interesting. Why is your family living there?”

Mark:

“My dad is a computer systems analyst working on the U.S.’s long-range defense missile system.”

Sarah:

“When did you move there?”

Mark: 

“Seven years ago from Philadelphia. I see you’re wearing a U of H sweatshirt. You go there?”

Sarah:

“Yeah, I just finished my second year of nursing in Hono.”

Mark:

“Cool.”

Sarah:

“Finals were intense. Felt like I was living in the library for the last few weeks.”

Mark:

“How did you do?”

Sarah:

“Pretty well. Definitely ready for a break.”

Mark:

“Where you from?”

Sarah:

“San Francisco. I’m spending the summer there with my folks and younger sister, Beth.”

Mark:

“Must have been a great place to grow up.”

Sarah:

“I can’t wait to see them.”

Mark:

“What are your plans for the summer?”

Sarah:

“I’m waitressing at Fisherman’s Grotto on Fisherman’s Wharf. It’s actually going to be my second summer there. Really can use the money for college.”

Mark:“Yeah, I’m saving for school too, with my bar mitzvah money and being a lifeguard.”

Sarah:

“Also looking forward to hanging out with my high school friends. What about you?”

Mark:

“This is my first trip on my own.”

Sarah:

“You staying in San Francisco?”

Mark:

“I’m going to Santa Cruz to spend about a week with my friend Luke and his family.’’

Sarah:

“Sounds like fun.”

Mark:

“Yeah. Luke and his mom are picking me up. We met on Kwaj in elementary school, but his family moved back to California when we were in junior high. We’ve written some, but this’ll be the first time we’ve seen each other since then.”

Sarah:

“I think you’ll like it. I’ve spent time at the beach and boardwalk there.”

Mark:

“I’m unsure how things will go.”

Sarah:

“You just need to get to know each other again.”

Mark:

“Thanks, Sarah. Your mom and dad picking you up at the airport?”

Sarah:

“Yes, Beth too. I talked with mom last night. Knowing them, they’ll do something cheesy.”

Mark:

“I don’t even know how Luke looks now. I’ve changed. But I’ll recognize his mom.”

A stewardess stops at their row: 

“You need to put up your seats and secure your seat belts and tray tables.”

Smiling at the stewardess, they get ready for landing. The other passengers also put away their belongings under seats and in overhead bins.

Sarah picks up the People and starts reading about Farrah’s new poster and TV show, Charlie’s Angels. Mark lifts the window blind and looks out. The plane has descended to a few thousand feet, the sun is peeking over the horizon and through the clouds, and the coastline is in view. Fog covers downtown San Francisco, with the tip of the pyramid-shaped Transamerica building poking out above the blanket. Mark can make out white caps on the waves below.