The Wave by Kristen Crusoe (smallest ebook reader txt) 📕

Clair stopped; her breath suspended. She felt a jolt of recognition, so strong, she wanted to grab him and hold him to her heart. A moment so dense with spirit, import, and substance collided with the past. Here he is, she knew.

Adam had begun walking away, heading towards a tapas bar just ahead on the left.

‘Wait,’ she called to him.

He turned and watched as she slipped her pack off. Her face was a portrait of wonder, as though she had discovered the secret of the universe and it was here, on this path, right now. He moved to stand closer to her.

Digging in her backpack, she pulled out the red truck. Walking up to his mother she asked her if it would be OK if she gave the boy this toy truck. She had learned enough Galician Spanish and Portuguese to be able to communicate well with locals.

‘Oh yes, gracias,’ the woman said, smiling down at her son.

Clair reached down, and laid the truck on the ground, in front of the boy.

He jumped up on his legs, clapping his hands together. Sitting back down, he began rolling the tiny truck around his pebble circle, making roaring noises. The mother smiled at Clair and Adam.

‘Clair, are you sure?’ Adam asked as they walked away, towards a café with a sign out offering tapas and queimada.

‘Oh yes, I am sure. Adam, did you see him?’ she asked, stopping and holding his arms. ‘I mean, did you really see him?’

Adam looked into her eyes, then back at the boy. He took her hands from his arms, holding them to his heart.

‘I do, Clair. I see him.’

About the Author

The Wave is Kristen’s first novel. She studied dance and literature, and spent her early career as a dance teacher, performer, and choreographer before becoming a nurse. She obtained a Master’s degree in nursing, working in psychiatry and palliative care. The Wave was inspired by her own pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago. She has taken several writing courses through Faber Academy, Curtis Brown Creative, and Professional Writing Academy. Kristen lives on the Oregon Coast with her family.

Coming Soon…

The Bluff

Prologue

Body.

That was his first thought. The way the shape was lying, limbs reaching up into the air, tangled in long, slivery ropes of kelp, strands of seaweed like hair draping over the edges. A cold January morning, silver disk of waning moon floating above the horizon. The surfer drew in a deep breath as he stood looking over the fence at the vehicle pull-out, relieved to be the first to arrive. Word would spread fast through the mostly telepathic communication system, and he had been hoping to beat the locals out to Simpson’s Reef. Surfable only about half the year, he didn’t want to share this prized spot with anyone. The wind was light, offshore, at mid-tide.

He paused, looked again. Just a log. Not realizing how tense he had been, he exhaled, laughed at himself. The barking of the harbor seals covering the small, rocky haul-out off shore about five hundred yards, mixed with the waves and wind, seagulls cries, pulled his thoughts back towards the ocean and anticipation of his plunge into the water. Timing was everything here.

A fine marine layer covered the horizon. This cove, only accessible at low tide, was quickly being submerged by the incoming tide. Just the right place, the right time for that clean break all the way to shore. Visualizing his long ride, he pictured himself cutting back early, so as not to crash. Scanning the cove and rocky shoreline, he planned exactly where he would enter the water.

Other debris from last night’s low tide, driftwood, sections of crab traps, and bright colored floats littered the beach. Taking care climbing down the bluff carrying his surfboard, he felt every one of his forty-eight years. As he edged closer, he caught the glint of something bright and shiny, emanating from the center of the form.

Once his feet were on firmer ground, he laid his surfboard on a flat rock. A sense of dread gripped his insides. Not wanting to admit to himself what his hammering heart was telling him, he climbed down to the cove, small white birds fleeing at his approach. Looking closer, he could see clearly. The surfer fell to his knees, doubled over. He stayed that way for moments, frozen in a state of uncertainty. A form, female, arms wrapped around the log, as in a final embrace. Long, dark hair, encrusted with shells covered her face. A round, silver medallion, like the moon, dangled from her neck.

It was up to him, he realized. Everything that happened now. He wanted to stay with her, to bring comfort, and at the same time, knew he had to go for help. His cell was up at the top of the bluff, in his truck. Not wanting to leave her alone, exposed, he laid his surfboard against the log, covering her form as best he could. Saying a promise to her that he would bring help, he climbed back up the steep, rocky incline, to the top of the bluff. Finding his phone, he dialed 911. Standing at the fence, looking down onto the cove, he could see her, still and silent, waiting for someone to take her home.

Chapter 1

Sirens sliced through the Sunday morning quiet. Crows cawed in response, setting off a flurry of raucous calling back and forth. Geese waking up on the river bank below joined in, sounding alarm as their wings flapped in takeoff. Somebody’s having a rough start to a new day.

This thought danced through Sawyer’s mind as she and Rhys sat at their kitchen table, enjoying a relaxed, Sunday morning breakfast. Looking across the table at Rhys, she felt a deep sense of contentment, that they had been through so much these past few years, and now could enjoy the rewards that love and patience brought. Carli was fine and would continue to be fine. She had been so strong, teaching them, her