The streets, which once freed me, now wrapped around me and squeezed. The lights of passing cars, swirled in my eyes me as I entered the freeway. My chest tightened and my eyes burned. How had this happened? Why had this happened? I didn’t regret anything I had done. 

The night was still back in Mill Valley. I turned the engine off and looked down at my hand. The blood had dried on the necklace clenched in my fist and had started to crack like hardened wax. My hand pulsed like a drum as it swelled. I looked up at the house. A light was on inside. In the rearview mirror I could see bloodshot eyes staring back at me as tears began to drip off my cheeks. The adrenaline was giving way to emotion. I sat in the car and tried to breath. I closed my eyes but all I could see was Emma, and the look of shock on her face.

Where was Emma? Was she ok? I grabbed my phone and dialled her number. I waited. It went to voicemail. I hung up. What would I say? I called again. I waited. Again I hung up without leaving a message. I called Claire. Her phone answered almost immediately.

“Hi Shane.”

“Claire. Did Emma come home?”

“Yes, she is here with me now.”

“Can you put her on please?”

“I am not sure that’s a great idea. Why don’t you call back tomorrow.”

“Please can I just speak with her quickly.”

“Sorry Shane I gotta go. I really hope you are ok.”

She hung up.

At least Emma was safe, that was all that really mattered. I climbed the stairs to the house, each step harder than the previous until I got to the door. I really didn’t want to face Loic and Lyrical. I didn’t want to have to explain what had happened, I didn’t even understand it myself. I turned the the door handle, the sound of the TV flooded out into the quiet night. I quietly shut the door behind me and quickly walked past the living room, straight into my bedroom. 

“How did it go?” I heard Loic shout from the living room.

I didn’t answer. I got a towel and began to wipe away the blood on my hand. The door opened. Loic stood in the doorway.

“Shane?... Is everything alright?” Loic said as he looked down at the bloodied towel on the floor.

As I turned he saw the marks on my neck, the cuts on my hands and the dried tears on my cheeks.

“Oh my god Shane. What happened?” 

“Someone tried to mug me.” I couldn’t think of any other way of putting it.

“Again?! Are you ok? Is Emma hurt?”

“Emma is fine… so am I. He didn’t have a weapon, he was just some Junky.”

“But you are bleeding!”

“That’s not my blood.”

Loic’s expression changed from a state of shock to one of slight fear of what I might say next.

“I got a lucky punch in. I had my keys in my hand and they caught him on the face. He fell to the ground. I kicked him! I kept kicking him. Emma… she was…” 

Loic grabbed me and pulled me close.

“Don’t worry Shane it’s ok, you were only trying to protect yourself and Emma. Where did you leave the guy?”

“I didn’t hurt him that much he was able to get away.”

“What are you girls talking about?” Lyrical shouted from the living room.

“Loic, don’t mention this to Lyrical right now. I don’t want to have to explain it to him.” I said quietly.

“OK don’t worry I won't mention it.”

“Nothing Lyrical, we are just talking about how the dinner went.” Loic shouted.

“And where is Emma?” Loic continued.

“She’s at home. She ran away. She looked horrified at what I had done. I had lost control completely.”

“Don’t worry she will be ok in the morning. Let me get you some ice for that hand.”

Loic brought me in some ice wrapped in a dirty tea towel and held it against my throbbing hand. 

“Thanks Loic. I think I just need to get some sleep now. I will figure this out in the morning.”

“Oh, Jeff called while you were out and was wondering if you could work tomorrow morning. But don’t worry I will call him and tell him you are sick.”

“No don’t worry, it will probably be good for me to get out, and being at work always gives me time to think.”

"Are you sure that's the right thing to do? Look at your hand, and your neck!"

"I am absolutely positive. Staying here with Lyrical questioning me every second is not what I need right now. I'll be fine."

“OK, well whatever you think will work for you.”

“Thanks Loic, you are a good friend.”

As Loic left, shutting the door softly behind him, I lay back down on my bed. My mind began to slow as the emotion and adrenaline of the last hour drained the last bit of energy from my body. 

Luckily the rain had stopped and was replaced by a warm evening breeze. I had booked a table in a restaurant right by the water’s edge in Sausalito, so the rain could have proved quite an issue. We hopped back into the car and headed north.

“Claire sounded like she was in a bad mood. Everything alright?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, everything is OK. She is just a bit down, because today would have been her anniversary with her ex-boyfriend … if they were still together obviously.”

“Really? That’s today? How long were they seeing each other again?”

“Six years.”

“Wow. I hope she is OK.” 

“Yeah, it’s bad timing with us going out and everything. I think she is a bit lonely at the moment and it doesn’t help that I spent three hours getting ready for my date with you.” Emma smiled, leaned over, and kissed me on the cheek.

“It took you three hours to get ready?!”

“It takes a while to look this good Shane. I can’t believe you actually shaved. I am not sure, I have ever seen you this clean-shaven. I didn’t even know you had a little baby’s bum chin, it’s so cute.”

“Oh god, don’t mention the chin.”

We pulled up outside the restaurant but I deliberately drove around the corner, as I didn’t want anyone to see us getting out of my banged up old Ford. 

“Where are you going? Why don’t you just park at the restaurant?”

“It’s always full. There is a parking lot right around the corner over here.”

“How do you know, it’s always full? Am I not the first girl you have taken here?”

“Eh, Loic told me. He comes here for lunch some times.”

“Wow, Loic has some expensive tastes.”

We walked back around to the restaurant and was greeted at the door by the maître d'.

“Good evening sir. How can I help you?”

“I have a reservation for two, under the name Kevins.”

“Ah yes, here you are. Come with me Mr. Kevins.”

He led us through the restaurant to our table, right by the water’s edge. From our table, we had an unobstructed view of the Golden Gate Bridge, lit up like a permanent fairground attraction. The lights from the cars pulsated, like luminous blood in and out of the city’s heart. 

The dinner ebbed and flowed. Our interactions were now fluid like two dancers, who know each other so well they no longer needed to rehearse the dance. We talked about our favourite memories together over the year. I remembered our first visit to Sunset. She remembered the first time we met at the Sweetwater. We joked about Lyrical getting arrested at the baseball game and Claire having to admit the humiliation of being saved by him, while white water rafting. As the food came and went, I sensed something was wrong. Her smiles, although large, were lasting for shorter periods of time, as if she would remember something that made her sad. I couldn’t think what it could possibly be. Finally, after we had gone through five courses, I asked for the bill.

We decided to take a walk down the pier, before heading back to the house. I took her hand and pulled her close to keep her warm. We strolled down the pier, our gaits in rhythm. Despite her shorter stride, we had found a way to walk in rhythm with each other like a big cog and small cog moving together.

“So Shane, there is something I wanted to talk to you about.” She said, as she looked up at me from under my jacket.

“Oh, OK.” I said tentatively, as I racked my brain about what was possibly going to come next. Had she cheated on me? Surely I would have sensed something was up. Had I done something to upset her? Was she starting to question our relationship?

“So, you are planning this big gig in a few weeks, because you are running out of money.”

“Yes.”

“Well, what are you going to do if the gig doesn’t work out? How are you going to afford to live here? Jeff can’t employ you full-time. So, are you going to move back to Ireland?”

“Eh, well I hadn’t really thought about what I was going to do. This has all been such a whirlwind.”

“What do you mean you haven’t thought about it? This is obviously something that could affect us and you haven’t even given it any thought?”

“Well, I just figured it would work out and that I would find something.”

“Yes, but what if it didn’t work out? What if the gig bombs? You’ll run out of money may not find another job. It’s not like there are that many jobs out there.”

“Well, I don’t know. I am sure, I would find something.”

“Have you even thought about what your long term plan is?” 

I could see Emma starting to get upset. The more vague my answers got, the harder she started to push for answers.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“ I want you to have thought about this. I want you to care enough about our relationship to consider these things.”

“Emma, the whole reason I moved here was so I didn’t have to think about long term things. I was sick of living for tomorrow, you know that!”

“So, you don’t consider our relationship a ‘long term’ thing?”

“No, I am not saying that. I just love being with you and I don’t want the future to ruin the present. I love you, like I have never loved anyone before.”

“Look, let’s not talk about it now. I shouldn’t have brought it up. We have had a great evening and we can talk about it in the morning. Why don’t we head back to the house?”

“OK. We should talk about this though. I just need to get my head round it first though.”

“Let’s talk tomorrow.”

As we headed back to the parking lot, I felt myself getting more and more frustrated. What did Emma want from me? I would sort something out. She just didn’t trust me. My head was swirling after the ambush and I didn’t know what to do. 

A chilled wind whipped around us, as we left the pier and walked down the pavement towards the car. The streets were dim and quiet. We turned off the main street down towards the car and the wind picked up again shuttling litter across the pavement. The streets were completely empty apart from one guy, who was probably homeless and was standing near a public phone by our car. I looked down at Emma, who was snuggled tight inside my suit jacket holding me close for warmth. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to have her. I really needed to make things better no matter what the cost.

As we got closer to the car, the guy at the phone looked straight at us. When he saw us, he quickly put the phone down and walked away into the unlit night. Emma hadn’t noticed, as she was wrapped up in my jacket. I immediately wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. The memories of my mugging a few months back still lingered. The last thing I wanted was to be in a badly lit parking lot, late at night, with no one around, and with Emma there too. I felt the adrenaline seep into my blood stream, slowly at first, but as the memories of my mugging came back it was like someone had turned on a tap.  I remembered the smell of alcohol on my mugger’s breath, the dirt under his fingernails, the anger, and violence in his eyes. 

“Why are you walking so fast?” Emma asked.

“It looks like it’s going to rain again. We should get home.”

“Don’t worry. A bit of rain won’t hurt us.”

We finally reached the car. There was no sign of the guy, so I started to relax. I took the keys out of my pocket. The lock on the door always gave me trouble. I turned the key and it wouldn’t open. I shook the lock and tried again. The key turned and the door finally popped open. I smiled and turned to Emma. Just as I did, a fist came round and hit me in the temple. I was dazed. There was a hand around my neck. Emma was screaming. 

“Shut the fuck up or I will break your boyfriend’s neck!”

I heard more screaming. His grip tightened and anger consumed his eyes. The keys gripped in my hand, each key now protruding between the fingers in a clenched fist. More screaming.

“Give me your fucking wallet!”

His grip tightened again. I couldn’t breath. More screaming. My right arm hung low against my body. My right arm raised up and swung. My keys and fist collided with his head. His grip loosened. I still couldn’t breath. He was on the ground and adrenaline pumped through my veins. My right leg pulled back and flew through the air, hitting him in the chest. He groaned. There was more screaming. My right leg pulled back and kicked over and over. More screaming.

“Shane stop! Leave him. Let’s go. Please!”

He tried to stand to run. My right leg pulled back and kicked him back to the ground. More screaming. 

“Shane, stop! What are you doing? You are going to kill him!”

I finally looked up, through my cocktailed daze of fear, anger, and adrenaline. Tears were streaming down Emma’s cheeks. Her pupils were dilated, the blood drained from her face. 

“Shane, my god, what’s wrong with you?”

I looked at the guy, as he stumbled away. I was shaking, uncontrollably. 

“Shane … What?”

I watched still in a daze, as he disappeared down the street.

I finally turned around to see Emma running across the parking lot towards the road. 

I stood motionless by the car, alone. 

“Emma, wait!”

She hailed a cab. She was gone.

I lifted my hand from my pocket and I pulled out her necklace. I sat in the car and closed the door. I locked it. My neck burned. I turned on the engine and sat. I waited …

And then it happened

As the bus pulled up at the bottom of our road, a dense fog began pouring over the Marin Headland and into Mill Valley. It rolled low down the hill, bringing an avalanche of moisture, as the temperature dropped in anticipation of its arrival. By the time I reached the top of our hill, the threatening wind had released a downpour of rain. I clenched my small plastic shopping bag tight and ran to the house.

“Jesus it‘s mad out there.” I said, as I shook the rainwater from my hair.

Lyrical and Loic were sitting huddled on the couch. Lyrical wearing a heavy raincoat, the hood hanging down low over his face.

“Lyrical … do I even want to know why you are wearing that inside?”

He looked at me slowly, shaking his head.

“Oh, Shane. How can you not remember? We talked about this before.” He said, as if I was the idiot for not knowing why on earth someone would be sitting on a couch in a raincoat.

“About what?”

“You can never be too careful when it rains. What happens if the roof falls in? What will we do then?”

“If the roof falls in, I promise you will have more to worry about than the rain.”

I left the two of them and went to get ready for my dinner with Emma. I had booked us a table in a posh restaurant in Sausalito, on the sea front right by the Golden Gate Bridge. I had to make sure I looked the part.

The day before Loic had graciously agreed to trim my hair which had grown wildly like an untended garden. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror slowly dragging a razor through the thick stubble that had permanently occupied my face since moving to San Francisco. My skin winced as the razor hacked its way through the hair to my raw skin. As I finished, I wiped the water vapour from the mirror to reveal a face I hadn’t seen in a long time. The face looking back at me was one I recognised all too well. The clean-shaven face and cropped hair of a successful London lawyer. However, standing in front of the mirror, in this city, at this time, this face now looked out of place. I thought back to all the times I had looked at that same face at five o’clock in the morning as I got out of the shower. Most mornings I was rushing to get into work to finish off some pointless document for some corporate client I had never even met. I really had come a long way since those days.

But where had I gone? It was almost a year, since I had left London with nothing but a dream and my guitar. Now I looked back at my face feeling just as clueless about where I was going with my life as I was a year ago. I was now just another struggling musician in a city full of people chasing their dreams. I sighed as I placed the razor back on the shelf, until I noticed Emma’s toothbrush sitting beside it. It was then that it struck me. I realised I had found something in San Francisco. Maybe not the thing I thought I was looking for but something more profoundly important than I could ever have imagined. I had found my heart again. I had remembered how to love. My music career may have been in shambles, but my heart was stronger than it had ever been.

At the back of my wardrobe a suit slouched on a hanger. It had been in exactly the same place, since I arrived in San Francisco. I peeled it off its hanger and dusted it down. I pulled the trousers on and felt the silky texture of the suit against my skin. I tightened the belt around my waist, but they slumped down low. I tightened the belt another couple of notches. I had clearly lost a few pounds since my days of excess in London. Despite feeling a little out of place as I looked in the mirror, I couldn’t help but feel a slight bit of the swagger of my previous life come back. The temptations of London were certainly addictive. Hanging out in fancy bars with beautiful women made you feel invincible. It wasn’t long until I realised that the invincibility came from not being close to anyone. If you had no soul, it couldn’t be taken from you.

“Right lads, I am off.” I said, as I poked my head into the living room.

Lyrical and Loic looked up from underneath an umbrella. They both stared with wide-eyed shock, before bursting into laughter.

“Well Shane, I am impressed. Scrub up well, don’t ya?” Loic said.

“You look like you have an interview on Wall Street or something. You look ridiculous.” Lyrical added.

“This coming from the man wearing a rain coat and an umbrella indoors? Actually, give me that umbrella. I need it more than you.”

“Fine take it, but if the roof falls in and I get wet, I am blaming you.”

“Good luck tonight Shane. I am sure it will go really well.” Loic said.

“I hope it does. It’s a pretty big night. I have never taken her out like this before.”

“You will be fine.”

I drove through the rain, down along the coast, past Sausalito harbour where the tourists were all huddled in shop fronts, and over the Golden Gate Bridge into the city to pick up my date for the evening. I pulled up outside Emma’s apartment. She had moved out of her Mom’s place a few months ago, when Claire moved to San Francisco. It was getting dark, but at least the rain was letting up. I opened the umbrella and ran to her door, dodging the puddles that had formed like hopscotch squares on the pavement.

I rang the buzzer to her apartment.

“Hello?”

“Hey, It’s Shane.”

“Emma is coming down now. Have fun tonight.” Claire said through the intercom.

The door opened, and in front of me stood Emma wearing a long black dress that hugged every contour of her perfect body. The light from the hallway spilled past her, as if she was positively glowing.

“Well you look dashingly handsome.” She said with a cheeky grin.

“I feel a bit weird. You look absolutely amazing though … like a Californian Audrey Hepburn.”

I took her hand and bowed.

“Your chariot awaits my dear.”

The Present

“You are talking utter shite.” The words slurred, as they stumbled off my drunken lips.

“No, no … I think you will find, that you are the one, who is talking … shite.” Justin stood, as he made his insightful retort and slammed down his empty glass, which John the barman dutifully refilled.

“Well I think, that if you consider it carefully, you will find that it is you sir, who is talking the most shite out of all of us.” I reiterated.

I had forgotten long ago what we were arguing about, but was still adamant, that he was wrong. The taste of bitter tequila still stung the back of my throat. I surveyed the half-eaten lemon slices, that lay strewn across the table, like spent shell casings from an alcoholic gun. Underneath the blinds, I could see sunlight begin to creep into the room. We had arrived at The Sweetwater, over eight hours before, to celebrate the venue’s 20th Anniversary, under Justin’s ownership. Loic was asleep to my left, with a beer-mat stuck to his face. Jeff was on stage, trying desperately to sit up straight enough to play the guitar, which was cradled in his lap.

“So, what’s the plan with this big concert you are planning? Out grown The Sweetwater have you? You will come crawling back. The Sweetwater is like a fine woman, once you taste her, you keep needing more.” Justin said, as a smile crept across his face.

“She will always have a special place in my heart. But this is something, I have to do.”

“I understand. I understand.”

“Jesus, what time is it?” I asked, as the sunlight pierced through a crack in the door and caught me square in the eye.

“Don’t you worry my boy. The night is young.” Justin took a mouthful of beer, before falling back into his chair.

“The night is young? You are truly mad. I have to get home. Where is Lyrical?”

Justin scanned the bar with one eye open, searching for the elusive Lyrical.

“I think, he left a while ago.” Justin said, as he finally lost all remaining energy and his second eye closed.

“Jesus. These Americans can’t handle their liquor.” I said to myself, as I stood up.

“You need a taxi Shane?” John asked.

“Yeah, cheers John and will you please help me round up these two drunkards.”

Later I awoke to the sound of rain pounding down against my bedroom window. The morning slowly crawled into the early afternoon, as the house’s cumulative hangover crippled our ability to be productive. We were all suffering badly, after the previous night’s party at the Sweetwater. Loic, Jeff, and I sat in a daze on the sofa with bags of chips and ice cream scattered across the living room floor.  We stared hypnotically at the TV, as the reruns of an “American Idol” marathon passed by one after the other. I must hastily add that we were not watching this show by choice. The night before Lyrical had broken the TV remote after hurling it at Jeff, when he claimed that Rap was the lowest form of music possible.

“My god, I hate this show.” Jeff grumbled breaking the silence.

Loic and I just nodded our heads. We barely had the energy to do anything else.

“It’s just a bunch of boring singers, who wouldn’t know real music, if you tied them to a chair and played ACDC to them on repeat for a year. If I wanted to hear people sing crap songs, I would go to church and watch the choir.” Jeff continued his rant, which seemed to give him energy like the sun recharging Superman.

Just as I was about to tell Jeff that he would probably never make it through the doors of a church, Lyrical walked past the living room with a girl behind him. Hypnotically our heads turned to look, like the crowd watching a tennis ball flying over the net. It wasn’t often that Lyrical brought a girl home with him and we had no idea that she was here.

Loic quickly got up to turn the TV volume down, so we could hear what was going on in the other room.

“Thanks for a great night.” The mystery girl said.

“It was my pleasure. It was so great to get a chance to connect with you.” Lyrical swooned.

“Oh, you are so sweet.”

“No, you are.”

“Feel free to call me, during the week.”

“I definitely will.”

There was then a long pause, which we can only assume was a kiss, and then finally they exchanged goodbyes and the door closed.

Loic, Jeff, and I were still too stunned to speak. Lyrical walked back into the room, as our three jaws lay wide open in disbelief, at what had just occurred. He stared back at us blank faced and wide eyed, like a toddler, who had no idea why he had just been scolded for painting his parents a picture in the middle of the living room carpet.

“What?” He asked.

And with that question, the rest of us all burst into laughter. Lyrical seemed to get genuinely upset by our reaction.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, come on Lyrical.” I said, trying to regain my composure.

“It was so great to get a chance to connect with you?” Jeff said quoting Lyrical, before breaking into a loud guffaw.

“You know you guys really are insensitive sometimes.” Lyrical almost spat the words, as he turned around and walked back into his bedroom.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting that reaction from him.” Loic said, looking genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, seriously. I was expecting a comment about just saying those things, to get her back in the sack.” Jeff added.

“I am sure, he will be fine.” I said.

Half an hour later Lyrical emerged from his bedroom and joined us in the living room, where we were now watching Oprah.

“Guys, I just wanted to say, that I am very sorry about my reaction before. I know you were only trying to have some fun. I apologise. I feel quite emotional today for some reason.” Lyrical said.

“Don’t worry about it Lyrical. We all have those days.” I said.

We all slumped back into the couch, just as Oprah was starting a segment about abandoned children.

After a few minutes, Lyrical was clearly getting more and more agitated. I thought nothing of it, until a couple of minutes later, when I saw Jeff’s attention turn away from Oprah and concentrate directly on Lyrical.

“What … the …  Are you crying Lyrical?” Jeff inquired and sure enough, there were small tears coming down Lyrical’s cheeks.

“Eh …” Lyrical stuttered, not knowing how to react. “I think I am! What the hell is wrong with me?! It’s just the poor kids. They shouldn’t have to live out on the streets, like that.” Lyrical got up and escaped to the kitchen, just as his phone rang. He tentatively came back into the living room and answered it.

“Oh, hey Jess . . . No, I have no idea what could have happened to your birth control pills. I did take a couple of your aspirin this morning but that’s it . . . Fuck!”

Lyrical hung up and turned around to us, with a look of pure shock on his face. He stood, like a startled deer, blankly staring into headlights, waiting for the onslaught of abuse. He quickly regained his composure and ran back into his bedroom.

“Did I just hear, what I think I heard?” Jeff’s face was ablaze with excitement, as if he had just won the lottery.

“I think you did.” I said.

“For as long as I live, I will never ever let Lyrical live this one down.” Jeff rubbed his hands with glee, before sitting back into the sofa, no doubt with his mind racing on ways he could stitch Lyrical up.

As Lyrical sat in his room waiting for his hormones to rebalance, we went back to watching Oprah.

“What are you boys up to tonight?” Jeff mumbled.

“It’s Emma’s birthday.” I said

“Oh wow, that is tonight? This is her first birthday, since you have been seeing each other right? Who would have thought it? I remember,            when she came into the store and I let you have her.”

“What do you mean, you let me have her?”

“I mean, she clearly was more interested in me than you. I decided to take one for the team and let you have a shot.”

“That is ridiculous. Firstly, you would never take one for the team, when it comes to women and secondly, I had already met Emma and had a connection with her, well before you met her.”

“Had a connection? You mean she sat in the audience, while you sang your sad soppy songs? That’s hardly making a connection.”

“Well let’s ask Emma about that one then, shall we?”

“She won’t be honest about it, for fear of breaking your heart.” Jeff smiled and gave me a wink, which was his way of letting me know, he was only trying to wind me up.

“So, what did you get her for her birthday?” Loic asked, changing the subject.

“I am taking her out to dinner.”

“Yeah, but what did you buy her, as a gift?”

“Well … nothing. I am taking her to dinner and paying for it. That’s the gift.”

“Shane, are you crazy? American girls expect a present on these sorts of occasions.” Jeff said.

“Really?”

“Of course!!”

“God, maybe you are right.”

“Well, you better go get her something.”

“What time is it?” I asked, while looking down at my watchless wrist.

“It is four o’clock.” Loic responded.

“What?! Have we really been watching Oprah that long?”

“What time are you meeting Emma?”

“I am supposed to be picking her up at seven. Which gives me three hours to go out, get her something, get back here, get ready, and go to pick her up.”

“That’s plenty of time. Just hop in the car, head to the town centre, and pick her something up.” Jeff said.

“My car is at the Sweetwater. I drove it there last night and left it, after drinking half the bar.”

“So, hop on a bus.” Jeff was losing patience.

The last thing I wanted to do was to get off the couch and go shopping, but Jeff and Loic were right. I really had screwed up by not getting her a present. Luckily, Mill Valley was full of quaint little gift shops, where I knew I could find her something nice. I was on a pretty tight budget, but I knew I could find something.

I dragged myself off the couch, threw on a pair of shoes and a hoody, and stumbled in a lethargic yet brisk walk down the hill to the bus stop, which would take me into the heart of Mill Valley. The bus arrived within five minutes and I climbed on board.

“Well, morning son. How are you doing on this fine summer’s day? Looks like you have been enjoying the sun at least?” Phil, the bus driver, was smiling down at me.

I stared at him, with a confused look across my face, until he pointed to my nose.

“Oh, yeah that. I don’t think my Irish skin has gotten used to this heat yet.”

“Come on now, you tellin’ me, that you still don’t wear sunscreen?!? Well son, there ain’t no hope for you then.” Phil laughed a deep chuckle, making him rock back and forth in his chair.

“Cheers Phil. I will keep that in mind.” I was too tired and in too much of a rush to engage in our usual back and forth. I quickly paid my fare and sat down at the back of the bus.

I wandered around the shops for a while, but was becoming increasingly frustrated by how expensive everything was. It seemed, that every shop assistant in every store took one look at me and knew I couldn’t afford anything. They all gave me the same fake smile, which said:

“Sir, please do everyone a favour and leave, before you embarrass yourself.”

When I had worked in London, if I had walked into a jewellery store wearing one of my tailored suits, with my well-groomed hair and polished shoes, the staff would have fallen over themselves to help me. But now, all they saw was an unshaven Irish man wearing a t-shirt and an old pair of jeans. Suddenly, my money was no good. That is, if I had any money, which I did not.

I had checked every store and had come up with nothing. I was in serious trouble, if I didn’t find something good. Emma deserved a guy, who would get her a thoughtful present. Here I was, a couple of hours before our dinner, and I had nothing. I started to walk back towards the bus stop racking my brain about what we had in the house, which I could make into a gift. I figured, I could have bought some flowers and a picture frame, which would at least be something. But that’s all it was. It was just something. That would be the sort of thing a guy gives to a girl, he doesn’t really care about. I had let Emma and myself down. Our love was supposed to be great and I had not lived up to it. As I rounded the last corner towards the bus stop, I saw a small sign pointing down a small side street, which read “Steve’s Emporium”.

I had never seen the sign before. I quickly turned down the street and was greeted by a mass of old wooden furniture sprawling out the front of the shop, as the smell of incense floated out into the street. It was no doubt another store opened by some hippy, who moved out to the west coast during the 70’s searching for something they would never end up finding in a world, which had since become more pre-occupied with consuming wealth than creating love.

This was my last chance. There had to be something inside this shop. I weaved my way through the chairs, chests, and tables finally finding the door. The room was filled with the stale stench of smoke and incense, which had seeped into every orifice of the shop over the past 30 years. The windows were covered with various sheets, diffusing the light coming into the room, and giving it a feeling of being surrounded by dusk.  In the corner next to the counter, there was a small cabinet displaying a row of necklaces. From across the room, I could see a single silver necklace, which stood out as the only shining object in the whole place. Instantly, I knew Emma would love it.

“How much for the necklace?” I asked the person, who was hunched over the counter reading an old copy of Plato’s ‘Republic’.

“What necklace?” he said without looking up.

“This one.” I pointed at the display.

He reluctantly craned his neck up and looked at me directly in the eye.

“How much do you think it’s worth?”

“I don’t know, $50?” I said.

“I didn’t ask you, how much money you thought I would take for it. I asked you how much it is worth, to you?”

“Well, I don’t have that much money …”

“You are not listening. I didn’t ask you how much money you had. I asked you. How much it is worth to you?”

If this was some sort of bartering tactic, it was very confusing, but I figured I had one chance to get it at a price I could afford, so I better play it cool.

“Well, it is worth something to me or I wouldn’t be interested, but it’s not like it means a huge amount to me, if I didn’t get it.”

“It’s $1000.” He said as he looked back down at his paper.

“What?! $1000?!!? How can it be that expensive?”

“Why are you getting upset? You said, it didn’t mean that much to you.”

“Well, I thought you were bartering.”

“You don’t have $1000?”

“No and this is really important. It is a birthday present for a girl, I love more than anything in the world and I want it to go perfectly.”

He looked up at me again, directly in the eye.

“You really love this girl?”

“Yes.”

“So, how much is that necklace worth, to you?”

“Well, she would absolutely love it, and she means everything to me. So I suppose, if it makes her happy, then it is worth the world to me.”

“How much money do you have in your pocket?”

“$25.”

“Right, it’s $25, but you better promise me, that you never let that girl go.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. That necklace deserves a good heart to own it.”

“Wow, thanks.” I handed him the $25 and took the necklace not waiting for him to change his mind.

The Brainstorm

It was midday, and I was sitting outside the Doe Library building on the UC Berkeley campus. I was meeting the gang for lunch to discuss organizing the BIG gig and try and kick start my flailing music career.

As I sat on the perfectly manicured lawn, I looked up at the mock Grecian architecture of the Doe Library. The universities in the US were unlike anything I had ever seen. Everything was done on such a grand scale, but yet somehow they were missing the soul of some of the universities, I had visited in Europe. The Doe building was a perfect example of the grandeur of US universities but yet, as a library it felt young and overly polished. Libraries should feel like a lived in like a pair of old shoes. This one didn’t. As my mind wondered, I looked around to see Emma skipping down the library’s steps towards me. Her satchel was draped over her shoulder swinging through the air, as she went.

"Don’t you look beautiful today?" I said with a grin.

"Why, thank you.” She said.

“My pleasure.”

“I think you just get turned on around libraries, you big nerd."

"Ha, maybe you are right, let’s test it out. I am sure, we can find an empty office somewhere …" I said with a wink.

"Aren’t we supposed to be meeting the others soon?"

I took her in my arms and kissed her.

"Well I am sure they won’t mind waiting."

"Unfortunately, you will have to wait until later on, because I am certainly not risking my job, just so you can satisfy your book fetish."

“Fine.” I said, whilst mockingly shrugging my shoulders.

“Come on let’s go. We are going to be late for the others.” Emma grabbed my hand and pulled me behind her.

We walked through the campus people watching, as we went. There is something fascinating about coming to a place, like a college campus. They are little functioning societies in and of themselves. It is like a case study of human interaction, or the lack of it. In the US, people are pushed so hard to be people of significance, who are all searching for their place in society. Some choose to be musicians, some athletes, and some scholars. But whatever they choose, this becomes their identity rather than just a job they choose to do. The musicians hang out with musicians, the jocks with the jocks, and there is little interaction between the groups.

Emma and I arrived at the coffee shop and found Loic and Claire sitting at a table laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I inquired.

“Oh, I was just telling Claire that Lyrical might be a little late.”

“Really? Why is that funny? Lyrical is always late.”

“Well, this time it is because he ran into a bit of trouble with the guards in the library.”

“Lyrical was in a library? Now that is funny!” I said

“Well, it gets better. He came in to help me find a book, I needed for Psych class and he wouldn’t shut up.  He kept giving me a hard time about being a geek.”

“Sounds like Lyrical.”

“Yeah, well I decided to get him back. So when he wasn’t looking, I slipped a book entitled, How to Tell Your Friends You’re Gay, into his bag. When we were leaving the library, the alarms went off, as he obviously hadn’t checked the book out. Lyrical was screaming at the guards, telling them he had not touched any books. A crowd started to gather and see what was going on, when they searched his bag and found the book.”

“Hahaha that’s brilliant.” I said.

“Yeah, so he is still at the library trying to sort it out.”

Just as Loic had finished his story, Lyrical burst through the coffee shop door.

“What … the … fuck Loic!” Lyrical shouted.

We all burst into laughter.

“Oh, you think you are funny? Well we will see, who has the last laugh! I won’t tell you where, and I won’t tell you when, but I will get my revenge, when you least expect it.”

“Jesus, what are you a James Bond villain? Take a seat, and let’s get down to business.” Claire instructed.

“Fine. But Loic … consider yourself warned.”

“I’m trembling. I promise you.” Loic retorted with a mocking shudder.

“Right, so I have called this meeting, as I think we have all agreed that Shane should invest in doing a BIG gig. Are we agreed?” Claire was taking charge, as if she was chairing a residence association meeting.

“Are you guys sure this is a good idea? I have never put on a proper gig before and I could end up wasting my money renting out a venue, especially if no one shows up.” I said, still unconvinced that the risk was worth it.

“Don’t worry Shane. It is simple marketing. You have a product and we are going to help you market it. All you need to do is make sure that the product is the best it can be, and we will sort out the rest.” Claire was studying marketing at Berkeley and was very much looking forward to the challenge of putting her new knowledge into practice.

“So, this is what I propose. Before the day, we need to sort out quite a few things and I am looking for volunteers to lead each part of the project. First off, is finding a venue.”

“I would like to do that one. I figure the venue is part of the product. So if I am in charge of the product, then the venue should be my responsibility.” I said.

“OK great. Now, we need someone to take charge of getting influential people in the music industry to attend to the show. So, this needs to be someone personable. Someone, who can get the attention of the people, we need to be there.”

Lyrical was about to volunteer, when Claire jumped in.

“Loic, why don’t you do that one?”

“Yeah, I can do that. I have a few contacts, who might be able to help out.”

“Great. Now, Emma and I can handle marketing and that should cover it.” Claire said, with a satisfied smile and a clap of her hands.

“Hey, but what about me? What am I supposed to do?” Lyrical exclaimed.

“Ah yes, Lyrical, why don’t you sort out finding a support act for the night.”

“No way! We are not letting Lyrical choose the support act. He will end up picking some gangster rapper from Oakland.” Emma said.

“Yeah, seriously I don’t think that’s a great idea.” I said.

“Hey, just because I have a certain music taste, doesn’t mean I don’t understand what other people might like! I will just look for someone, who plays a live instrument and sings sad depressing old man songs, like Shane does.”

“OK, but I get to vet all the potentials!” I said, while jabbing my finger into the table to make sure my point was made.

“The only other thing we need to sort out is the budget. Shane, how much money do you have left?”

“A little over $1000.”

“OK, you are going to need most of that for the venue. I can probably get some posters and leaflets printed for about $200, so I will work with that budget. We only need to sell 200 tickets at five dollars each to break even. I know we can do it.”

“I god damn hope so, otherwise I may have to get a proper job!”

We both laughed, as we continued our way through the trees.

We decided to actually try and find some wood, so we strayed off the path into the trees. We walked over a mound and through two large redwoods. We could see the moonlight glimmering off the water. We had stumbled across a wide part of calm riverbank. It was the epitome of nature’s beauty. In the distance, we could hear the noise of the raging rapids, while around us the trees stood like guardians of the water, but here everything stood still.

Emma looked at me with her usual cheeky grin.

“What?” I said.

“Come on, we have to get in.”

And with that, in one movement she had lifted her cotton dress over her head revealing her naked body underneath. The moonlight caught every curve and dimple in her immaculate body.

“But, there might be people around.” I protested, scared that some old folks walking tour would come round the corner to see me gallivanting naked across the river.

“Oh, come on Shane! It’s fine. Just get in.”

“OK, OK.”

I looked around one last time and then just went for it. I stripped my clothes off and followed Emma out into the middle off the river. The water was deep enough to cover us to our waists. We stood holding each other in the middle of the river and I kissed her. In my time with Emma, I had never gotten bored once of kissing her but this kiss reminded me of our first kiss up on Sunset, out amongst natures beauty again. Emma seemed so comfortable in nature. She belonged amongst the trees living a life without cares and worries. And as she kissed me in the middle of the river, our bodies naked for the world to see, I too felt like part of nature. We were Adam and Eve in God’s garden. 

After playing in the water and diving off rocks for a while, I realised that we had been gone for ages and Loic would certainly be worried.

“Come on, we better go and actually find some wood or Loic will slap us on the wrists.” I said.

We climbed out of the water and put our clothes back on.

 “I am tired. I can see wood better from up high. I will be your navigator.” Emma said, as she jumped up on my back.

“Ha ha. OK. Where to my dear?”

“Straight ahead kind sir.”

I galloped forward pretending to be her steed.

After twenty minutes of running around in the forest like children, we had finally collected enough wood to get us through the night. Emma and I returned to camp with logs and sticks of various sizes stacked high in our arms. When we got back, the tents were still not up and Loic was sitting on the ground with his head in his hands, while Lyrical and Claire stood over the second tent.

“No no . . . this piece goes in here first, then we get this, and push here.” Claire instructed Lyrical, who was shaking his head.

“Are you crazy? If we do that, then where does this go?” Lyrical was waving a large pole in his hand.

“They won’t listen to me. They just keep fighting.” Loic muttered to us, as we approached.

“Classic. Let them figure it out. Come help us make the fire.” I said grabbing Loic on the shoulder and helping him up.

After another half an hour, the tents were finally up. The fire was roaring and we were devouring whatever food we could find in the boxes, we had brought. We sat in a circle each using a log as a stool or bench. The heat from the fire was intense but away from the fire the September night had grown cool.

“So Shane, how is the music going?” Claire asked breaking the silence.

“Ah you know . . .  it’s teetering along, I suppose.”

“So, no record deals on the table yet?”

“Not quite.” I said, as I looked down at the ground.

Emma jumped into the conversation. “Shane was injured a couple of months back, which meant he couldn’t play the guitar for a while.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realise. What happened?” Claire asked looking concerned, which I thought was nice.

“I got mugged by some guy, who claimed he had a gun.”

“Oh god, how did I not hear about this?” Claire inquired.

“I asked Emma not to mention it to anyone. It was a pretty embarrassing experience. I have never felt so powerless in my life.”

“Shane, I am so sorry.” Claire said with genuine care I her voice.

“I don’t even know, if he actually had a gun, but I was just so terrified I let him throw me to the ground and take my wallet. When I hit the ground, I hurt my wrist.”

“Did the police ever find him?”

“He didn’t report it.” Emma said with disbelief in her voice.  It was the same tone I had heard, when I told her for the first time that I wasn’t going to report it.

“Why didn’t you report it?”

“I don’t know. I just knew there was no way, they would find him and I suppose. I was a little embarrassed about what had happened. I did nothing, I let it happen, even though the guy was only about fifteen and I never even saw a gun.”

“Well you shouldn’t feel bad.” Claire said with the tone of a mother comforting a sick child.

“That’s what I keep telling him.” Emma added, which didn’t help me feel any better about it.

“Anyway, I had to take a break from gigging for a while, so the momentum I had built up kind of died down and now I kind of feel like, if I don’t do something soon I am going to run out of money. I am also at risk of completely losing the fans and momentum, I had already built up.”

“Shane you need to do something BIG!” Lyrical said, whilst making a theatrical gesture with his arms.

“What do you mean?”

“Yeah, I think Lyrical is onto something here.” Claire was actually agreeing with Lyrical. “You have built up a following of fans right? But now you are struggling to take it to the next level?”

“Yeah, that’s about right.”

“Well, if you want to GET to the next level, you need to TAKE it to the next level.” Claire said.

“I am not sure, I get you.”

“Right, let’s say you saw Emma across a bar for the first time and you liked her. Let’s say you wanted to get her attention and you did all the usual little things like, caught her eye, smiled at her, maybe said hello, but she didn’t seem to take any notice. You would take it up a notch right? You would buy her a drink or something.”

“Ha! Shane would probably write and sing her a song.” Lyrical said, laughing at his own joke and then knocking back his beer.

“So you are saying, I need to do something bigger?”

“Absolutely. Why not put on your own gig? Rent out somewhere and do a showcase.”

“She’s right. Until now you have always been either supporting someone else or sharing the bill with someone.” Emma said.

“I think it’s a great idea.” Loic said. “It is do or die right now my friend.”

“Hmm, I am not sure. It is a big risk. I have very little money left.”

“It’s like in poker, if you have very little chips left, do you let them dwindle until you have nothing? No, you make a move, before you have so little chips that you can’t make a move at all.” Lyrical added.

That night, Emma and I decided to sleep outside our tents, under the stars. Although there was a chill in the air, the night was still so the tents offered little more warmth than outside. We lay together in a double sleeping bag looking up at the sky, through the branches of the trees. I started to think about all the times before moving to California, when I had convinced myself I was happy. The closest thing to family I had was my co-workers and we barely knew each other. And here I was almost one year later sitting underneath the stars surrounded by people, who loved me, and someone I loved dearly. I took out a pen and paper and began to write a song of thanks to… California.

The nose of the raft dipped hard, as we hit our first hole. A wave of white water erupted over the bow of the raft. I could see Loic at the front of the raft completely covered in water.

“Both sides paddle hard!” Loic shouted, above the sound of crashing water.

We started paddling with all our might. Lyrical’s eyes were now wide with adrenaline, as he pumped his oar into the water. We were being bashed back by the water against the rock behind us. Just as we pulled out of the hole, we hit another. The bow of the raft raised in the air, before crashing down into the next hole. We hit it hard. As we came down, the right side of the raft smashed into a rock. I grabbed the side of the raft with one hand and Emma with the other, as the right side of the raft lifted into the air throwing the left side into the water. I heard a scream and turned to see Claire fall over the side of the raft into the water. She was being carried backward downstream.

“Where’s her life jacket?” Emma gasped.

Claire’s life jacket was snagged on a branch, protruding from a nearby rock, and she had slipped out of it. Everyone was in shock. Even Loic’s usually calm face was stricken with panic. Before we could say anything else, Lyrical was gone too. He jumped in straight after her and began swimming hard in her direction.

“Claire!! Go feet first!” Loic yelled.

But it was no good, the sound of the water drowned out his words and Claire looked too shocked to do anything. About 25 yards downstream a cropping of rocks was jutting like teeth out of the water. Claire was heading straight for them. Lyrical was starting to get tired. His arms looked visibly weaker, as he dragged them out of the rough water before plunging them back in. But he was closing in. Claire was now trying to swim to the side of the river, still oblivious to the approaching rocks. Every time she got closer to the shore, the water pulled her back. The rocks were seconds away, when Lyrical reached out, grabbed her between his legs, and they both hit the rocks. As they hit the first rock, Lyrical had managed to turn Claire around and they were now both facing downstream. Lyrical bounced from rock to rock using his feet as fenders. They had now disappeared to the other side of the rapids out of our view. We paddled as hard as we could, with Loic’s instructions guiding us. As we came out the other side, we could see the two of them about fifteen yards downstream of us. Claire was now swimming with Lyrical under her arm. He didn’t seem to be moving. She pulled him up onto the riverbank, as we paddled towards them. We threw them a rope from the boat and Claire tied it to a nearby tree. Loic was lying on the riverbank. His arms and legs were sprawled, like a drunken sunbather.

“Lyrical! Are you ok?” Loic shouted from the boat with genuine distress in his voice.

“Fuck off Loic, of course I am ok. I just figured it was Claire’s turn to swim for a while.”

“Yeah right, he nearly passed out! He shouldn’t have had so many beers, before jumping in like that.” Claire said with a mockingly friendly tone.

“The beers are what gave me the energy!”

“Thank god you are both ok.” I said.

“The fact, that you are still giving each other grief, would suggest you aren’t in too much trouble.” Emma added.

“I was never in trouble. I didn’t need Lyrical to come and save me. I was fine. I ended up having to save his drunken ass.” Despite Claire’s brave words, you could tell by her drained face and dilated eyes, that she was still in shock.

“That’s just great. Is that all I get, as thanks? Typical woman, never happy no matter what a man does.”

When we arrived back at the campsite, it was almost dark. The last light of the falling sun filtered through the great redwoods, which surrounded us. Campsites in California are the most amazing places in the world. In Ireland, a campsite is an open field of grass with tents randomly set wherever there is space. In our campsite, grand tall redwood trees surrounded each plot. The trees sheltered each plot giving it the feeling of camping in the middle of a forest. Even if the trees had not been there, we would have felt isolated anyway. There was barely anyone else in site and certainly no one in any of the plots near ours.

“We better start a campfire soon. The light is fading fast and out here we don’t have the orange glow of the street lights to show us where we are going.” Loic said, as he looked up through the leaves into the dusky sky.

“Shane, why don’t we go find some fire wood, while the others set up the tents?” Emma said smiling and taking my hand.

“Yep sounds like fun. Enjoy putting up the tents guys.” I said laughing, knowing that the process of constructing the campsite would no doubt end up in Lyrical and Claire getting into an argument, as Loic instructed them on what to do.

Emma and I walked out through the trees away from the campsite, further into the forest. We wandered under the canopy of redwood trees hand in hand, having quickly forgotten that we were supposed to be looking for wood.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” Emma said quietly, as she stopped in the centre of a grouping of redwoods.

“Yeah it’s amazing.” I said looking up into the trees towering above us.

“Listen to how clearly you can hear everything.” Emma said, as she instinctively held her breath and listened intently to the forest.

“Loic says that redwood trees and the soil commonly found by their roots absorbs the background noise, allowing you to hear the original sound much more clearly.” I said.

“How does Loic know all these things? I wish I knew more about nature.”

“Well, I unfortunately can’t help you out with that one.”

“Before I met you, I thought all Irishmen would know everything about the great outdoors.” Emma smiled.

“Hey! What are you saying? That I am not rugged enough?” I stifled a grin, as I feigned insult.

“Oh no, I think you are very rugged. Those sandals you are wearing are what real men wear in the woods.”

We both laughed, as we continued our way through the trees.

4 Months Pass

It was September and I was floating down the American River in an inflatable piece of rubber.  I was armed with nothing but a life jacket and a plastic oar. The late summer’s sun still shone high and bright in the sky not ready to give into autumn just yet. Lyrical, Loic, Emma, her friend Claire, and I had left behind the incessant hum of city life and replaced it with the buzz of the crickets, which lined the riverbank. The calmness of the river was alluringly addictive. The water didn’t flow. It sauntered lazily through the valley. It was the first time in a long while that I had managed to switch off my mind and turn down the volume on my inner voice, which had once again started to worry about the future. In the midst of nature’s calm energy, I felt at peace.

Loic snapped me back to reality. “A few miles downstream, we will hit the Chili Bar Run. The rapids are going to be pretty intense, but if you do what I say, we will be fine. Just remember if you fall in, go feet first down the river and use your feet to fend off the rocks!”

“What do you mean, if we fall in? I thought this was going to be a mellow trip. I am not here to get killed Loic!” Lyrical said in between sips of his beer can. He was lying across the back of the raft with his oar dragging in the water.

“Don’t worry Lyrical, if you fall in, I will save you.” Emma said with a laugh.

“Are you joking Emma? Have you seen the size of his beer belly? You would need a crane to get him out of the water.” Claire said with a snigger.

Lyrical pretended not to hear. I had asked him to be on his best behaviour. Claire and he hadn’t exactly hit it off, when they met for the first time. Being fair to him, he was doing his best to keep the peace despite Claire’s goading.

Loic stood at the front of the raft surveying the river ahead. He had taken us to the American River for a white water rafting expedition. It was a place he knew well, since he had been here many times before as a child. Every year his father took his friends and him camping out here to sample the great outdoors. It was great having someone, who could teach us everything we needed to know about outdoor living. The only downside was having to sit through his numerous lectures on the history of the river.

“In 1848, California’s first gold was discovered in the river’s bed. The discovery was a major turning point in California’s history, as it triggered the California Gold Rush of 1849.  The Gold Rush is sometimes referred to as the largest human migration for a single purpose, since the Crusades.” Loic explained.

“Why doesn’t Lyrical have to paddle like the rest of us?” Claire pointed at Lyrical, who was lying down with his belly shimmering in the sun, complete with beer in hand.

“I am steering! I am using my oar as a rudder. See!!” Lyrical splashed his oar about in the water, behind the raft.

Loic knew better than to get involved and ignored Claire’s protests.

Emma was sitting next to me in the middle of the raft and focusing intently on her rowing. She always wanted to make sure she did her best at whatever she did, even if it was simply rowing down a river in an inflatable boat. In the past four months, the intense attraction we had felt when we first met had developed into a deep emotional bond. We were still intensely passionate, but underneath the passion was a friendship and love like I had never experienced before.

“Isn’t this amazing? We should get out of the city more often and do things like this.” Emma said while scanning the valley slowly drifting away behind us.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just difficult with you teaching during the week and with me often having to do gigs on the weekends.” I said dejectedly.

“I know, but I am sure we can find the time.”

“Yeah well, I hope so. We should try to book these weekends in advance and I will make sure I don’t have any gigs.”

“Brilliant, sounds like a great plan!” Emma leaned over and kissed me.

“Oh, come on! Can you please keep the PDA to a minimum?” Lyrical was looking at us from under the brim of his cap and shaking his head. He threw his empty beer can into his bag and reached in for another. “Anyone want a beer?”

The midday California sun barely cast a shadow, as it shined down directly from above. It was now turning to later afternoon and, as the sun dropped from the sky, it gave the river a new dimension. The trees grew in stature, as their shadows framed the forest. The rock formations began creating pockets of cool shelter from the sun, that we past through a little too quickly. Despite being in California for over six months, I still had yet to get used to the heat. Just as I could feel the late afternoon lethargy setting in, a new sense of energy grew around us. The water was picking up speed and we no longer needed to paddle to keep our momentum going.

“There she is!” Loic announced.

“Girls?” Lyrical quickly sat up and looked ahead down the river.

“Nope, sorry Lyrical, something much better than that. It is the Chili Bar Run!”

A haze of water vapour hung in the air above the river no more than 200 yards from us and it was closing fast.

“Right everyone, remember, just listen to what I say. If I say paddle right that means, the two on the right should paddle. Shane and Emma, that’s you two. If I say paddle left that means, Lyrical and Claire, you need to paddle. If I say hard right or hard left, the people on the opposite side need to reverse paddle too. Got it?”

“Yep got it.” Emma and I said in unison.

“I don’t get it. When do I reverse paddle?” Lyrical looked confused.

“Lyrical just do what I do!” Claire snapped.

The water was now moving more quickly by the second, as the river narrowed. The sound of water crashing off rocks drowned out the buzz of the wildlife around us. As the water quickened, our grips tightened on our oars. The first rapid was twenty yards away . . . ten yards away… five yards away…

“Hold on!”

“So are you going to teach me a song on the guitar?” Emma smiled.

“Of course. Lets start with some simple chords.”

I handed her the guitar.

“OK lets do E major.”

“Oh! I know that one! Hold on.”

She struggled to get her fingers in the right place.

“Oh, darn it. Will you show me how?”

She scooted over and sat in front of me. I wrapped my arms around her petite frame and held her two hands, as I showed her the chord. She strummed, her face lighting up with excitement as the sound of the major chord filled the air. For the next half an hour, we sat in the dusk playing simple songs, laughing at her mistakes, and losing ourselves in the night.

As the last light faded, we headed back to the car. I couldn’t take my eyes off Emma. She moved through the trees ahead of me, her cotton dress hugging her perfectly shaped body.

“Come on slow poke.” She shouted back at me.

“Sorry sorry, I am coming. Don’t fall over now. I don’t want to have to carry you back to the car!”

“Haha, if you fall, I am leaving you here.” She said, as she gracefully weaved through the low hanging branches.

We got back to the car and made our way down the winding road back to civilisation. I didn’t want the night to end. I would have been happy living that evening for the rest of my life. I thought that maybe she would like to come back to my house and have a drink on the deck, but I was scared that she would think I was being too forward by asking her back to my place.

“I don’t want this evening to end.” She said breaking the silence.

“Neither do I.”

“Let’s not go to sleep tonight! Let’s just hang out and talk for hours and drink good wine!” She was now sitting forward in her seat, the light dancing off her eyes reflecting her youthful excitement.

“Well, I have some wine back at my place. I can’t promise it’s good quality but it’s wine. And we have a great deck that overlooks the bay. Loic and Lyrical are both out in the city tonight, so we won’t have to deal with their antics this time.”

“Brilliant. Take me there kind sir!”

“Righty ho, let’s go”

“Did you just call me a ho and then rhyme it with go?” Emma said trying to look serious but doing it very badly.

“Hahaha you are not getting me this time. No I didn’t and you know it.”

“Darn it, you have caught onto my game.”

We both laughed, as she took my hand and squeezed. I could feel her energy and it was intoxicating. We got back to the house and did just as we had planned. We got a couple of bottles of wine, sat out on the deck, and talked for hours, until we could talk no more. It was late, as we fell silent for the first time since we got back. We both looked out at the bay and then Emma stood up without saying a word taking my hand. I knew that she was offering me a window, and so I led her inside. I took her into my room and pulled her close. It felt like we were breathing together, like our bodies were one. I slipped her dress straps off her shoulders and it fell to the floor. She stood in front of me, the moonlight catching the curves of her body. I took my shirt off and moved even closer. All I could feel was her skin and mine touching softly, as we breathed together in time. I kissed her, as we finally succumbed to our bodies’ natural desires.

We lay together, as Emma drifted off to sleep. She slept, as the sun began to rise again from its slumber. I sat with my heart feeling like it was going to explode. I had never felt like this about anyone before. I had thought I had been in love in previous relationships, but this was different. With Emma, I felt so many different emotions. I moved from hysterical laughter, to intense passion, to a feeling of deep tenderness, all in the space of one moment.

In the corner of my room, my guitar stood begging me to tell it the story of the evening. So, as Emma slept, I quietly sat in the corner of the room letting the music express the emotions that my words couldn’t. Even now, I feel these words don’t convey the feelings I had in that room, in that moment. The only thing that possibly could was a song and like so many times before, I let a song express what my words couldn’t.[1]

[1] “For You” can be listened to here

A slight breeze danced from branch to branch, as the birds circled finding their resting place for the evening. We climbed from rock to rock, over dead tree trunks, and through streams of water. After ten minutes, finally we could see a golden stream of light filtering through the trees, which opened up to reveal one of the best views I had seen in my life. We were now high above the cloud line. To our right, the evening fog rolled over the hills of the Marin Headland catching the light, as it splashed it with different shades of yellows, reds and purples. To our left, stood San Francisco, one of the most incredible cities in the world.

The city stood, as a teenage like representation of human society. It had its flaws; the homeless, the crime, the seeming anonymity. It had its rebellious streak; the boundary pushing politics, the open homosexuality. And at its heart it had human kindness; the hippy culture and the acceptance of every diverse culture known to man. The Marin Headland stood as the parent, old and wise with its vast landscapes untouched by human development, where wildlife and nature reigned supreme and the laws of nature had learned to keep all this life in perfect balance for centuries. Between them was the Golden Gate Bridge. It connected the parent with the child with a beautiful simplicity as if the two were destined to always be connected but neither overcome.

“My god, it is absolutely beautiful.” Emma said her hand resting on her heart, as if she had lost her breath.

“I know, isn’t it?” I was so absorbed in the moment I couldn’t say anything else.

We sat down on a rock and watched, as the sun’s final chorus played out in front of us. Emma sat close to me. Close enough, that I could feel her breathing. Her lungs rising and falling with each rhythmic breath. I put my arm around her and she laid her head on my shoulder. She wrapped her two arms around my chest, as if scared to let go. After five minutes of sitting in almost total silence, I opened up the picnic basket and poured two glasses of wine. We began to talk about everything, as the day drew its curtains.

We talked about our dreams. She wanted to become a paediatrician to help children. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I knew it was not in an office block in London.

We meandered about our beliefs. She believed that there was something out there but ultimately we would never understand it, and so all we could do is live life the way we thought it should be lived hoping that was enough. I realised, I agreed.

We talked about what made us laugh. She laughed at the small things in life, like a silly joke or an embarrassing moment. I realised I didn’t laugh enough.

We talked about what made us cry. She cried sometimes for her loved ones. I admitted, I realised I hadn’t cared enough about anything enough to cry in years. And finally, we talked about our families and how we ended up in San Francisco. 

“So, tell me more about how you came to San Francisco.” Emma asked as she sipped her wine.

I told her about how I had moved from Dublin to London chasing the big job in the city and how I realised that I had been living a hollow life for some time, before I finally cracked and realised I needed a change.

“And how did your family take you quitting a good job to move half-way across the world to pursue a career in music?”

“They were great about it. They really supported me. Although, they made me promise that if it didn’t work out after two years, I would get a more stable job. They come from a generation in Ireland, who had little money and so having a secure job was very important.”

“Well, at least they didn’t disown you.” Emma said with a smile.

“Yep that’s always a good thing. How about you… tell me more about your family.”

Emma looked away and down into her glass of wine. That’s when I realised, I had once again brought up the very subject she seemed not to want to talk about.

“I’m sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yes fine. It’s just a difficult subject for me.”

“You don’t need to say another word. Let’s just sit here and enjoy the wine and the sunset.” I said trying to steer away from the subject.

“No. I want to talk about it. I want you to know everything about me, no secrets.” She said, as she looked up at me again. Her eyes were almost completely black in the dim light and were beginning to glaze over, as she held back a tear.

“When I moved here with my Mom, it was because my Father had started to become abusive to her.”

I didn’t know what to say. She had said it so bluntly, yet the statement was filled with so much emotion. I did the only thing I could do and pulled her closer, as she finally succumbed to the tears. She didn’t cry hysterically, a couple of tears simply rolled slowly off her cheek. It was as if she had cried over it so much in the past, that all she had left were a few remaining tears.

“He used to drink a lot and after he got fired from his job, he seemed to change. He was constantly either drunk or angry, and sometimes both. That’s when it started. I can remember him coming home, hearing his heavy footsteps against the floor, as he went into the living room where my Mom was watching TV. I heard them shouting at each other and after a few minutes it suddenly got quiet. The next morning, when he left, my Mom cried for what seemed like hours on the steps of the stairs. I remember being in the kitchen and as she was bending over to wipe something off the floor, her t-shirt lifted up and I saw the bruises on her body. At the time, I didn’t really understand what was happening. After six months, she finally found the courage to leave. That’s when we moved over here.”

All I wanted to do in that moment was find the man and knock him out.

“My god, I am sorry. I can’t imagine what that must have been like to deal with.”

“We were OK. As I said, at the time I didn’t realise what was really happening. I just knew my Mom and Dad fought a lot.”

“He didn’t ever hit you did he?” I tried to sound concerned, but a deep anger was building in me. I couldn’t believe that someone could do something so cowardly.

“No no, he never hit me. We were never that close any way. I think he had always wanted a boy, because in all the photos I have of us I am dressed up in various sporting gear trying badly to kick, throw, or hit a ball.”

“Do you ever see him?”

“No, we lost contact after we left. My Mom says he moved out of the house soon after she left, and didn’t say where he was going. She left him our contact details, but he has never called. I don’t think I would want to see him again. It was so long ago.”

The sadness seemed to subside, as she looked up at me.

“You are one of only a few people, I have ever told that to.”

“I just wish I could do something.”

Emma smiled and gave a faint laugh.

“What?” I said, surprised by her reaction.

“My Mom always says, the problem with men is that they want to run around fixing things. When most of the time, all women want is someone to stop and listen to them.”

“Ha, she seems like an intelligent lady.”

“She is … and thank you for listening.”

I leaned in and kissed her gently, as the sun finally set. The moon was now the only light in the sky, coating the forest with a glowing silver shimmer.