Called Page 2

  “Hello!” she says cheerfully as I enter the shared living space, “I’m Gwendolyn Mizrahi. And you must be Evelyn. You can call me Gwen.” She closes the door behind me and I turn to answer her.

  “Hello to you too,” I say, “Yes, I’m Evelyn.” I set my bag on the small kitchen table and reach for her outstretched hand. Uncle Russ wrote to me about my roommates before I left Arizona. One is Celia, who will be arriving next week. The other is Gwen, a “lovely girl from a rough situation – a scholarship award winner…risen above her upbringing…” His description of Gwen was vague and I wasn’t sure what she would be like.

  Gwen is warm and friendly, so much different from the person I expected to meet. I thought her difficult life might make her reclusive or guarded, but it seems to have had the opposite effect. She shakes my hand then pulls me in for a quick, friendly hug.

  “I hope you don’t mind me coming in already,” she says, “once I saw that I was the first one here, I wasn’t sure which room to take. I figured I would wait to set up my stuff,” she points at the tiny couch under the window overlooking the bay. It is overflowing with a small mountain of her belongings. Bedding, books, luggage, school supplies - all of it plain and used.

  “Well,” I say, “I think Uncle Russ said Celia gets the two rooms on the right, so you’ll be in the left rooms with me.” I point the way and we head down the hall. I see that the first room has all of my boxes inside already. Uncle Russ made sure they were here for me. That means the room on the end is for Gwen. As she follows me with her grey and worn luggage, I think of the contrast to all the new things I have in my boxes. My mom isn’t extravagant, but she always makes sure my needs are met and we did some dorm shopping over the summer. I’m not sure if Gwen has ever had that kind of attention paid to her. I feel a pang of guilt as I compare our situations. I don’t know everything about Gwen yet, but I hope she will confide in me. She seems like someone I will like and I need a friend.

  Together, Gwen and I unpack and get settled in. The sun is long gone behind the ocean by the time we finish. I am feeling very hungry when Gwen asks, “Want to go check out the bay?”

  “Um, wow,” I say. My promise to my mom is ringing in my ears. “Isn’t it kind of late for that? Aren’t you hungry?”

  Gwen runs her fingers through her thick curls and smiles. “Yes, I’m hungry. I guess I’m just anxious to get down to the water. I haven’t spent much time in the ocean.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “Let’s go get some food and we can go to the bay tomorrow,” Gwen says. “Then we can take as long as we want.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  We ended up being the last customers in the campus Chick-fil-A. I felt a little guilty for making them dirty their counters again, but I was so happy to get my market salad and fries that I quickly got over the guilt. Gwen and I talked a lot. She told me about her life – raised by an aunt who didn’t like her, she did most of the housework and tending to nieces and nephews. She was regularly excluded from family activities and often told she was a problem. She couldn’t wait to get out of there. She knew she was worth more than what she was given. Her own sense of worth and what she wanted from life pushed her to do her best in school. She graduated early like me and applied to several area schools. She got an academic scholarship to FIU and an on-campus job. She left her old life behind.

  Gwen was so open, it felt normal and easy for me to open up to her. I told her about my dad and even about my breakup. All the big stuff. She listened and hugged me when I talked about James. I didn’t let too many tears out, but the ones I did cry left little circles on Gwen’s shirt. We were talking so much, we didn’t go to bed until after 1:00. It felt so good to find a friend so quickly.

  I slept through my alarm this morning, so I am rushing to my mandatory breakfast meeting with Uncle Russ.

  Uncle Russ is a nice man, super tall and thick. Not fat, just a really big guy. He has thinning gray-brown hair, blue eyes and a large smile. He has been sending birthday cards to my mom and me for as long as I can remember and I am looking forward to spending the morning with him.

  “So, how do you like the campus Evelyn?” Uncle Russ asks when we are seated in the food court.

  “Well, I haven’t seen much of it yet,” I answer, “but what I have seen so far is beautiful. I can see the ocean from my room. That could be good or bad,” I laugh. “I may not be able to focus on my homework.”

  A shadow crosses Uncle Russ’s face for the briefest of moments. But he swiftly pushes it away with one of his broad smiles and answers, “Yes, the ocean is very beautiful, but I’m sure you will find your class work just as exhilarating as what you can find in the bay.” The way he says that leads my thoughts straight to the water and I have a sudden urge to run straight for the shoreline. It’s all I can do to stay focused on our conversation. I turn to my omelet to help refocus my attention.

  “I personally chose your roommates,” he continues, “You and Celia used to play together when you were little.” He chuckles at some old memory and I smile along, not at all remembering his daughter. “You met Gwen last night. She grew up in a broken situation, you know, but has really risen above it all to make the most of herself. I think you three will have a great year.”

  I smile at his comment. I hope it will be a great year for my own answers, but if both roommates are friendly and easy going, that will be icing on my cake. As an only child, I’ve never had to share a room with anyone. Sure, my mom was more into my life than most girls’ moms, but when I wanted to deal with something on my own, I just had to close my bedroom door. For the next several months, I am going to have to figure out what to share or not share with my roommates. Things like jerk boyfriends.

  I feel the strain of my breakup rising to the surface again, so I find something else to talk about. “Why is Celia living on campus instead of at home?” I ask.

  “Well, we felt that Celia would do well to have some space of her own, away from home. I am here so often that it will not be that great of a separation, but she at least will feel that it is.”

  “And when will she be here?” I ask.

  “Celia is in the Bahamas with her mother and will return next week. You and Gwen will have time to settle in before she arrives. Celia has been to our campus so often that she really doesn’t need time to adjust.

  “Speaking of mothers,” Uncle Russ continues, “I talked with yours before we met up this morning. She wants me to remind you to not go into the bay alone and to not go into the bay at night and to not go into the bay when you are doing homework.” He smiles and adds, “I’m pretty sure she would be fine if you never stepped a single toe into the water.”

  “That’s about right,” I say with a smile. I swallow some orange juice to hide my face. I don’t need Uncle Russ to know that I have every intention to spend a lot of time in the bay. I still don’t know how much he will tell my mom. “I’m sure I’ll be busy with class and homework. I’ll go to the bay, but it’s not like I’m going to live there.”

  Uncle Russ’s smile fades and he clears his throat. He picks up his own juice and looks around. “Well,” he says after taking a drink, “it would be nice if that were an option, don’t you think? We kind of have that here.”

  I know about the school Aquarius Program where participants actually live in an undersea lab. It’s an ideal environment for studying sea life and is a world-class facility. But that isn’t for me. I want to find answers to my life in the ocean, not answers to sea life in the ocean.

  “Maybe for your graduate students,” I say, “but I’m not interested in living underneath all that water. I think I would feel claustrophobic.”

  Uncle Russ smiles and nods. He is quiet and thoughtful for a moment before picking up the conversation again. He asks what classes I am most excited about (MET 4532 Hurricanes – my dad did disappear during one and I want to know why), what degree I think I’ll settle on (Liberal Arts for now with an emphasi
s on Humanities and Cultural Traditions – I want to know about the human relationship with the ocean), and what I’ll do in my spare time (work – haven’t found that job yet – also exploring, which I do not tell him).

  Uncle Russ is a friendly man, generally interested in everyone like a teacher/university president should be, but he isn’t really to the level of a father figure in my life. I feel comfortable around him and I know I can call on him if I need anything, but for now I am just grateful that our connection got me out to Florida.

  We finish our breakfast and he gives me a one shoulder hug as we say goodbye. I’m sure I’ll see him around, but I am ready to get going. Gwen and I have a date at the beach and I don’t want to miss it. I’ve been feeling the tugging from the shore all morning long. I don’t know how much longer I can resist it.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  When I get back to the apartment, Gwen is barely getting out of bed. I’ve been up and ready for a while, so I wait for her to shower and eat before we head to the beach. As I wait, I look through the small family photo album my mom gave me when I left. It’s a book filled with strong women in my family line, supporting me and lifting me up in my journey into adulthood.

  The first picture is of my great-grandmother, Ama Awenasa. It’s an old black and white photograph from her wedding day. She was full Cherokee and married a smooth talking white boy sometime before the First World War. She is so dark skinned in her wedding dress it is a stunning contrast. Her dress is lightly patterned in the Cherokee tradition and she is wearing some of her traditional Cherokee necklaces – necklaces that have passed down to my mom. The groom, my great-grandfather, is dressed neatly in his army uniform and the couple is wrapped in the traditional white Cherokee wedding blanket. My great-grandfather died a few months later in a battle in France and my great-grandmother gave birth to my grandmother, Ahyoka, and raised her alone – not unlike my own mom.

  My grandma Ahyoka married and had two children: Marisol (my mom) and my Uncle Charlie who passed away from alcoholism before I came along. By the time the gene pool was passed down to me, all I got of my Native heritage was my family tree. My eyes are a swirling mix of green and blue. My hair is straight and brown, my skin tans easily, but is otherwise pale. But my mom, she looks amazing. Dark eyes and thick, dark hair. Skin so smooth and brown I used to wish it was mine. She has high cheekbones and stands with the kind of pride you’d expect from the daughter of a great chief. She was raised in Florida like the women of the family had been since my great-grandparents moved here over a hundred years ago. My mom’s mom and dad died when I was just little – before my dad disappeared. All the death around her made my mom extra protective of me. Letting me go to Florida is a big step for her. The thought makes me homesick.

  But then Gwen comes bounding out of her room calling, “I’m set! Ready to go investigate the bay?” and all my nerves disappear.

  “I am so ready.”

  Chapter 3

  Even though the bay is so close to the apartments, there isn’t a lot of open sand for lounging in. We will have loads of time all semester to explore the tree-lined bay, but for today, we are heading to Sunny Isles Beach, just a short Uber ride away. Once we arrive at the beach, I am blinded by the sunlight reflecting off the white sand. I remember my mom telling me about some wicked sunburns from that sand, so Gwen and I lather up before laying out.

  “This looks like as good a spot as any,” Gwen says as she lays out her towel near the pier.

  “Agreed,” I say and I stretch my towel out next to Gwen’s. The beach is filling up with college students eager to get some shore time in before school starts next week. Tanned bodies and pale bodies like mine are laying everywhere. Only a few are actually enjoying the waves. Gwen and I lay out for about an hour before the heat has made resting unbearable.

  “Want to head into the water?” Gwen asks.

  “Oh my gosh, yes!” I say. Gwen stands up on her towel, her flip flops resting in the sand next to her and heads toward the waves. I stand to follow her, but as soon as my feet hit the sun-heated sand, they are burning up. I hesitate, jumping back onto the towel, but Gwen keeps going. I feel like a little kid at a waterpark. The cool water is so close, but I have to get across the burning concrete first. There’s only one way to do this. Run.

  I make a mad dash for the waves, passing Gwen who has started the hot-feet-tiptoe-hop toward the water. She starts laughing and so do I and soon we are both running to the ocean. When we finally land, splashing into the water, I am so disappointed that the water isn’t colder. I knew the Atlantic Ocean was the warm ocean, but I had still imagined it being refreshing. Even though it isn’t as cold as I would like, it is still better than the smoking hot sand we were running in. Gwen and I are still laughing as more and more people enter the water. It is so loud and full of people that I cannot hear the voice that has been calling to me for days. It is quiet and I am happy. All my cares are being washed away by the waves.

  “Who is that?” Gwen says wide-eyed, as we stand waist deep in the water.

  I turn around to see who she is talking about and see a super-hot guy walking toward us through the water. He is leaving a group of friends to come talk to us and I am trying not to stare so I turn back to Gwen.

  “Holy crap,” Gwen says again. “Look at his abs!”

  “Gwen! I’m not going to turn back around,” I say, “It would be way too obvious.”

  “Okay, then I’ll just tell you what I’m seeing.” Gwen’s eyes are still wide as she describes the guy we are about to talk to. “His abs look like some Calvin Klein model, not too big like one of those huge bodybuilder guys, but more like a gorgeous, gorgeous…”

  “A gorgeous what?!” I ask, eager for the details.

  “Hi,” I hear next to me. The voice is cool and inviting, young and strong. I turn to see the man it is attached to. “My name is Jack,” he says, “I saw you two over here and wanted to introduce myself. I work at Oleta River State Park by FIU. Are you two students there?”

  My mouth is dry and I can’t say a word. Jack is tanned, muscular, and beautiful in every way. His green eyes sparkle under a head full of beach bleached hair. He must be a surfer or something to be so tan.

  “Yeah, we’re students at FIU. I’m Gwen and this is my roommate, Evelyn.” I’m so glad Gwen knows how to talk.

  “That’s cool,” Jack says, “I’m actually a student there myself, getting ready to participate in the Aquarius Program. I’ll be living underwater for a few weeks at a time this semester.

  “What are you studying?” Oh my gosh. He’s talking to me.

  “Um, uh,”

  “Evelyn is studying liberal arts. She likes the culture stuff,” Gwen answers for me.

  “That’s right,” I finally say. I smile at Jack and laugh at my own awkwardness. Goosebumps are raising up my arms despite the heat outside. “I want to know more about people and their relationship to the ocean.” Jack looks impressed and my heart flutters in my chest.

  “That’s awesome. Well, my friends and I are getting ready to play some volleyball. Would you two want to join us?”

  “Yes, we would,” Gwen answers for both of us and soon we are following Jack up the beach to the shaded volleyball courts. We spend the next several hours playing the game, drinking tons of water, and getting to know some of the other students from FIU. It is such a glorious day.

  As the afternoon wears away, everyone gets ready to head home. Gwen and I grab our gear and Jack walks us to the parking lot. He’s riding a bike back to his place and has his backpack ready to go.

  “Hey, Evelyn,” he says, “we are always looking for student help at the Park. If you need a job, I can put a good word in for you.”

  “I actually do need a job, so that would be awesome,” I say.

  “Great,” Jack says, “Can I have your number and I’ll let you know where to come apply and interview?”

  “Definitely,” I answer with a smile on my fa
ce. I give him my number and he puts it in his phone. He gives Gwen and me a handshake before leaving.

  “It was nice to meet you and get to know you a bit. I look forward to seeing you again soon,” he says. As he rides away, Gwen and I watch him quietly.

  He is so good looking.

  After several minutes, I get a text on my phone.

  “I thought he was into you,” Gwen says, “but that was fast, don’t you think?”

  As I open my phone, my smile fades. “It wasn’t Jack texting,” I say. “It was James.”

  “What?! NO!” Gwen says and she takes my phone from my hand. “What the heck does that jerk face want? He doesn’t get to dump you then string you along. NO WAY!”

  She swipes left and the text is deleted from my phone. Honestly, I’m glad Gwen is here to do that for me. I don’t know if I would have been strong enough to do that on my own. I smile and we start talking about Jack as we wait for our Uber. In a moment of silence, I hear a voice again.

  “Evelyn,” it says. It’s so quiet, I turn my head to try to hear better.

  “Evelyn,” I hear again.

  “Did you hear that?” I ask Gwen. “Someone said my name.”

  “Huh. Nope. I didn’t hear anything,” she says. “It must have been someone else.”

  I agree nonchalantly, knowing that it wasn’t a mistake. My dreams, the voice, everything is leading me here. I’m here now and I will do all I can to find out what is waiting for me.

  Gwen and I spend time at the beach nearly every day. The one day we miss is because I need to nurse a bad sunburn. Jack texts often and I have an interview lined up at the Oleta River State Park in a few days. If I get the job, I will be working with Jack, giving guided paddle tours. Jack came to the beach again with Gwen and me yesterday. Gwen smiled and stared at us while we talked and she gave me lots of winks and nudges when Jack wasn’t looking. I’ve gotten two more texts from James, but I swiped left on my own for those.