I decided I needed to move out of the Kammieland house. It held far too many odd feelings for me. First, there was my experience, then there were my neighbors who had their own stories. One girl who lived across the yard lost at a game of Chicken with a stranger and ended up paralyzed. The guy living next door to her was a kick-boxer high on meth, but he took care of the paralyzed girl. He and Imua built a ramp for her. The girl living in the apartment to the left of me was bulimic. And then there was Imua next door. He helped me carry my boxes to my car when I moved to Rocky Point with a friend from church. He told me Da Hui took care of my “problem.” He said the guy had a brother-in-law who was with the Mililani police department. "You Ohana so we rap hees head Hui style." Imua said. I thanked him and gave him a big hug. My arms didn’t reach around his neck because he was so big. I believed he was all heart.
The house I moved into at Rocky Point was the last one I was to live at in Hawaii. I’d gotten my job at Pat’s and was working lunches. I had stopped drinking, smoking, snorting cocaine and even having sex. I became a holy roller. The North Shore Christian Fellowship was full of young single surfers. We all hung out together. I did everything, including played softball, for the church. I started gaining weight so I began the strictest workout program I’d done to date. Most days I’d run to Waimea Bay, swim the bay twice and run home. Sometimes I’d run up Girl Scout Camp Road, which is a pretty steep hill, before the swim. I did hundreds of crunches, leg lifts and pushups every week. I started eating better too. I tried tofu for the first time and decided I didn’t want to be THAT healthy. Everything about me was healing. I had more stamina, and strength. I surfed better and was at the top of my game.
My roommate and me. Rocky Point
I missed my dog Hobie. My brother had taken him when I moved. Now he told me he was going to put him down.
“He’s gotten so bad with arthritis he can hardly move. He doesn’t make it out side when he needs to do his business.” My brother told me. I cried. Then I went to the pound and picked up a dog and a kitten. I had never owned a cat before so I thought I’d give it a try. Amigo was a lab pit mix (big mistake), the kitten a long haired Siamese looking thing. About a month into the whole pet thing I was sitting on the beach with my dog when a local Hawaiin came walking by. He had a fight dog on a leash. When he got five feet from me he let his dog taunt mine. Amigo got wildly aggressive. Good thing I had put him on a leash too. I got pissed and yelled at the guy, "Get your dog the fuck away from me or I'll kick the shit out of it!!" I meant it too. He only laughed and walked on doing the same thing to another person who had their dog on the beach. Theirs was not on a leash. That's how they train fight dogs to be aggressive in Hawaii. When Amigo and I got home he chased my kitten, caught it, and shook the life out of it. I took the dog back to the pound and really started hating Hawaii. I decided it was time to get off this rock and move back to California. However my life was to take another turn.
My boss Mark at Pat’s was a gorgeous southern boy from North Carolina. After he graduated from UNCW he moved to the North Shore to surf. He was planning to move back to NC and take his tests to become a CPA. We started dating. One of our early dates included surfing Chun's. The waves were well over 12 foot (faces). I thought I’d impress him by taking off on a big set wave. I never made the drop. I got caught on a chop and freefell into humiliation. I lost both of my flippers and my leash broke. I was also in the impact zone and got worked! Mark went on the search for my board while I, with my tail between my legs, swam to shore.
“You got balls.” Mark commented as he handed me my board that had been trashed from the rocks.
“Yeah, thanks.” That was the third time I almost drowned….so far.
Mark and I became inseparable. I wasn’t giving up on my pledge about sex before marriage so we never slept together. I’ll have to admit however, I did falter once before I started dating Mark. It was with my Teen-idol Mark Warren. He was at the North Shore filming the Pros during the winter contest season. I spotted him right off the bat and lost all common sense. We hooked up a couple of times until I heard some other Pros hanging out with us call touring hookups “Sport Fucking.”
“You can take me home now.” I told Mark Warren. He was more than happy too because he was also doinking another girl. Ladies…don’t be fooled. There is no love in Sport Fucking.
Anyhow, Mark from Pat’s was a good southern boy. At dinner one night he told me about his plans to go back to North Carolina. I told him I was working on going back to California.
“Do you want to go to North Carolina? “ He asked.
“Sure, why not. But I don’t want to just live with you.” I didn’t want to go to a place I didn’t know anyone at and have him leave me. North Carolina is a long way from Huntington Beach.
“What do you want to do?” He asked.
“Let’s get married.” I threw out there. Silence. He had a girlfriend that was going to meet him at the airport. They were going to get married.
“Ok.” he finally said. And we began the process. He started by becoming born Again. I started by calling my Mom.
“Hi Mom. Guess what. I’m coming home in two weeks and I’ll be getting married.” She handled the news like a champ, especially when I told her he would be a CPA.
Mark and me
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