Chapter 5

So there I was, minding my own business at the famous Kahena beach. Writing in my journal. Drinking my beer. The waves more calm than usual. A typical Sunday afternoon as the freaks gather at the islands only nude beach for the weekly drum circle. I sat under the cool shade of palm tree, sandy feet, looking Zen, when I saw her form the corner of my eye. Unspeakable beauty gracefully descending the rocks, past Hanna and Tommy selling cinnamon rolls. Her hair dancing with the wind, tangling in cheap plastic sunglasses.
Many goddesses graced the beach that day but for some reason she hypnotized me. Like a magnet, she claimed my attention. Out of conditioning or reflex, I had to look away, pretending I cared about anything else. But my heart beat stronger and faster as she came closer. She set her backpack in the sand by the tree next to mine, kicked off her sandals and drank some water. Glancing around as if she’d seen everything a million times before, she promptly striped naked and strolled into the ocean. Her thin necklace glistened in the sunset, creamy coffee skin and a hint of a tan line. As she walked, her ass cheeks danced like two enlightened peaches who had been lovers for countless lifetimes, happy but not surprised to find each other on the same branch of the same tree.
She swam. I played drums and wondered the ethereal bliss. My mind going here and there. Later, as the sun departed, I sit by the fire, scribbling something with what’s left of the light. She sits next to me, hair and wind blowing. Fire light glowing on her smile. “What are you writing?” She asks.
“Well. I guess I was writing about you.”
She grins. Her eyes light up. “Really? You were writing about me? No way.”
“Yeah. I was just chatting with the universe about casually manifesting some profound bliss. And, well, here you are.” Or something like that.
“Yep, here I am.” She said laughing. “That’s funny cuz this morning; I was asking the universe for basically the same thing. Crazy huh.” A half smile of understanding.
“It’s so crazy, nothing couldn’t be more sane.”
We both grin. Blissful third eye contact. The fire pops and casts dancing shadows on the grinning wrinkles around our eyes and the dark cliff behind us. The moment almost dissolves into awkward silence. She sighs and shivers, showing her palms to the flames. “It’s getting cold.” she says. Her nipples perky and pointy.
“Here.” I say, revealing my Tibetan monk shawl and wrapping it around her shoulders. She grins again. Her eyes glowing orange.
“Mmmm. Share it with me.” She demands, as I hoped she would, throwing half the shawl around me.
“Ok.” I put my hand under her arm pit. She puts hers around my waist. Resting her head on my shoulder. “My name’s Blaise by the way.”
“Blaise by the way.” She says. “That’s a strange name. Were you born by the side of a road or something?”
And soon we were cuddling more than chatting. She told me her name was Sapna. She used to know what it meant but could no longer remember. She was born near Mumbai, but grew up in southern Oregon. She had come to Hawaii to study Yoga. I asked her why she didn’t just go to India to study that. “I’ll never go back there.” she said. “India has nothing for me. Hawaii has everything”
I remembered India being the kind of place you either Love or hate. I started to tell her a bit about my travels to India. She was very interested at first, but soon interrupted me. “Come on.” She said, standing up and taking my hand. “I want to show you something.”
Up the cliff and around the vines, we climbed to a cozy grassy ledge above the ocean, frothing and fertile. It had a nice view of the fire and drummers. Stars like smiles. The moon making love to the sea. We sat in the grass with our feet hanging over the edge, quietly sharing the shawl. Fingers restless, we began to explore. Hers on my back tickling like a spider. Mine on her shoulders, neck, side and then the thighs. The rhythms of the universe guiding our hearts, our blood, our skin.
There was a moment of hesitation. How far did we want this to go? How far did we not want this to go? There was no turning back. The fact that we were having this conversation psychically, was such a turn on, the answer was clear. All the way.
Sapna pounced me. My head hit the mossy rocks but I barely noticed. Soon we were one. The pain of the past was a forgotten fog. Love and bliss is all. Receiving the joy of giving joy. This way and that way, it went on without time. The drums, the waves, the palm trees, our hearts, all things together and interconnected, shining and fearless. The mist from the waves soothed the skin. You could taste it in the air. She was on top, holding me down, pulling me up. Her sweet warm juices caressing my hips. Pure life.
And then, suddenly she dug her fingers into my sides, so tight. Arching her back to look at the moon we howled together in a sea of simultaneous orgasm. The drums reached a climax too, as a huge shooting star lit up the sky. Everybody saw the star. Everybody felt the sacred power of that moment. People began howling and laughing and crying. The sea became calm. Sapna and I cuddled under the warm shawl and gently drifted to dreams.
I awoke the next morning with the sun piercing the horizon. It was cold. I was alone. Only a ribbon of smoke from the fire remained. She must have gotten cold and left. Disappointed, I walked to the edge of the cliff for a morning piss. Fortunately I looked down and saw that Tibetan shawl dangling above the ocean from a jagged lava rock. Could she have rolled off the edge during the night? I fished the shawl from the rocks with a stick and searched for any sign of Sapna. I hoped she was alright. The shawl smelled vaguely of her, but more of the salt water it was dripping. What happened? What should I do? I asked about her for the next few days but no one seemed to know her. Several months later, in India, I learned that Sapna means ‘dream.’