Thirty
THIRTY
SANA
If anyone had told Sana that at the age of twenty-two, she’d be not only a CalArts dropout, but a CalArts dropout who draws almost exclusively on sand, she’d have curled up and sobbed at what a failure she’s become. But the truth is, Sana can’t remember the last time she’s felt this happy about drawing.
Every morning at sunrise, she goes to Ocean Beach with her bamboo pole and there, next to the slow rush of the Pacific Ocean, she guides her stick across the sand, relishing the way it feels as she pulls and pushes and swipes. Sand is a whole new medium to work on, requiring so much focus on muscle control that Sana doesn’t have the headspace to hesitate. She loves the soft, scratchy feel of the sand parting beneath her stick, the reassuring shh sound that every stroke makes. Even the way that the sand feels under her feet, between her toes, is a comfort, rooting her to the earth, connecting her to nature, and grounding the anxiety that has for so long fluttered through her whole being. For an hour or two each day, the rest of the world melts away, leaving just Sana, the bamboo pole, and the sand.
Then Vera and Emma arrive with Vera’s trusty trolley bag and Sana waves at them, and a feeling of overflowing joy fills her chest as she watches the old woman and the little girl make their way across the beach toward her. She knows that Vera’s trolley bag contains way too much food, and that Vera will be constantly nagging her about having a healthy breakfast before coming out here, and that Emma will take out a pair of wooden chopsticks and hand one stick to Sana and say, “Let’s draw, Sana.” And Vera will shoo the two of them away to draw while she lays out the picnic blanket and food herself.
Drawing in the sand on her own is cathartic, but drawing in the sand with Emma is a whole different experience. Emma’s into anything half-mermaid, so Sana draws the top half of a horse, for example, and then Emma, very carefully, with the tip of her tongue sticking out, adds a mermaid tail to it. Emma’s chubby fist is still lacking the fine motor skills required to draw well, so more often than not, she makes a mistake. Before Emma can get upset, Sana says, “That’s a great line, Emms. Look, if I extended it just so... it turns into a star! Yes, this mer-horse has a star on its tummy, isn’t that cute?” And somehow, in teaching Emma that flaws can be turned into something unique and beautiful, Sana, too, begins to heal.
Then Vera calls out to them, and they retreat to the picnic blanket and eat Vera’s food, which is, as always, too delicious to not finish. Sometimes, Julia joins them, but more often these days, Julia is busy shooting portraits. As Sana predicted, Cassie the TikTok influencer was blown away by her headshots and raved about Julia to her fans, which has resulted in Julia getting more and more bookings.
Once, as Sana is drawing in the sand with Emma, she looks up and notices a figure in the distance, just standing there. Is the stranger watching them? From this distance, Sana can’t be sure, but from the way they stand, unmoving, Sana would bet money that their eyes are on Emma. It makes Sana feel uneasy, and when she raises her arm and waves, the figure hurries away. Her stomach tightens. “Vera,” Sana calls out. “Did you see that person standing there watching us?”
Vera, of course, is way too busy unpacking her food. “What person?”
Sana hesitates, then says, “Probably just a beachgoer.” She must have imagined it because of course she can’t quite figure out how to exist without any drama in her life.
The truth is, Sana doesn’t quite know how to feel about this newfound peace. It’s ironic because Marshall is still very dead, and Vera is still openly suspecting Oliver and Julia, and yet they’re all falling into a deep friendship with one another and it’s very confusing. Sometimes, she finds herself wondering what kind of bizarre life she’s stumbled into where there is an unsolved death that is maybe probably murder, plus a very mysterious break-in during which nothing was stolen. Speaking of the break-in, Vera has predicted that the cops will likely come to no conclusion simply because nothing was taken. And so far, she’s been right. Part of Sana is still jumpy, awaiting the cops’ arrival any day now, denouncing one of them as a killer/burglar, but the days pass and still there are no new developments.
Today, though, Sana has told Vera not to come to the beach in the morning because Sana is going for a hike in Muir Woods. What she fails to tell Vera is that she’s going on said hike with Riki. Oh, Sana can just imagine the smug, gleeful look that Vera would no doubt have if she were to ever find out about this.
At around seven thirty in the morning, Riki picks up Sana and her sandy bamboo pole from Ocean Beach. She does her best to wipe down the pole before putting it in the trunk of his car, feeling strangely nervous for the first time, very much aware that they’re not meeting up to discuss Marshall’s case or Vera or anything. For the first time, they’re getting together to simply spend time with each other, and what a strange and wonderful feeling that realization is. She can barely hold back the smile as she slides into the passenger seat.
“Hey,” Riki says, grinning just as wide as she is. “Did you have a good drawing session?”
“Yeah, it was really good. Gets better by the day.” Sana squeezes her lips together in an effort to keep herself from smiling idiotically, but nope, as soon as she lets go, her mouth springs back into a smile. Damn it. Play it cool, please. She can’t help but notice the way that Riki drives—one hand on the wheel, other elbow resting on the open window of his door. Kind of really hot.
“How was your morning?” she says, trying to distract herself from admiring Riki.
“Well, it just started, honestly.” He laughs a little. “I like to get my beauty sleep on the weekends, you know. So I basically got up, like, twenty minutes ago and came to get you.”
God, even the way he says “came to get you” is somehow really hot.
This early on a Saturday morning, there isn’t much traffic, and before long, they’re on the Golden Gate Bridge. Sana gazes out the window as they go across the iconic bridge, taking in everything around her, trying to sear every detail into her memory. She used to look at things this way, seeing the artistry in everything, but Marshall’s theft stole that joy from her for so long. And now, she is once again noticing the beauty of her surroundings, and she almost cries with the sheer, unending joy of it. How insanely gorgeous is this city? How has it taken her this long to notice it? She’d come here on a trip for vengeance and had completely failed to notice the colors around her. It’s hard to describe the overwhelming hugeness of the Golden Gate Bridge. In photos where the whole bridge is visible, it looks almost like a toy. But in real life, each beam is impossibly tall and wide, spearing through the sky, and Sana feels that yearning again, the one she’s lost for so long now, to create something beautiful and otherworldly.
By the time they get to Muir Woods, Sana’s entire being is buzzing with possibility, with a newfound excitement for life. She gets out of the car and stretches, breathing in the clean, woody scent of the national park. Riki takes out a backpack from the back and then the two of them begin their trek. The conversation flows smoothly, effortlessly.
“I can’t believe how huge redwoods get.”
“Seriously. The cross section is bigger than my whole apartment,” Riki says dryly.
Sana laughs. “Did you used to hike back in Indonesia?”
“Yeah, actually. There’s a place, Bogor, which is about two hours away from Jakarta. I used to drive there with my little brother, and we’d hike up the hills to where they have those stepped rice fields, and then we’d swim in the river. Indonesia’s hot and humid, so by the time we got to the river, we’d be so sweaty, and the cold water feels amazing.”
“Wow, that sounds like an incredible hike.”
“It is. Maybe one day I can take you.” Riki seems to realize what he’s just said entails Sana traveling internationally and his cheeks and the tips of his ears and the back of his neck turn bright red. “Um, you know, if you happen to be in the area.”
Sana is not above delighting in his bashfulness. “Oh, you mean, if I just happen to be in Indonesia for some random reason?”
Riki shrugs, fighting back a smile. “Yeah, some random reason.”
“I like how you’ve invited me to Indonesia on our first date.”
Riki raises his eyebrows and looks at her innocently. “Wait, is this a date? I didn’t know that, but okay.”
Sana hits his shoulder, and the two of them laugh and walk deeper into the rich darkness of the woods. She can’t remember the last time she made such a strong connection with a guy. Back at CalArts, all the other students had been so wrapped up in their art, each one secretly convinced that they were geniuses while at the same time fearful they might be found out as talentless frauds. She could never date another artist. No, what she needs is someone like Riki, uncomplicated and down-to-earth. Someone who calms her soul.
After a couple of hours or so, they pause to have some food. Riki’s brought some cheese and bread and a nut mix. “I made it myself,” he says as he pours the nuts into a bowl. “Almonds, cashews, peanuts, pumpkin seeds, roasted with some honey and sea salt.”
“Lucky I don’t have a nut allergy,” Sana says, popping some in her mouth. The mention of “allergy” brings Marshall unexpectedly to her mind, and her mouth feels dry at the thought.
Riki must have thought the same thing, because his expression has turned somber.
Sana takes a gulp of water and sighs. “The whole thing with Marshall... I still can’t believe how everything went down. It’s been a crazy few weeks, huh?”
“Yeah. And after all that, he died from a bird allergy. I mean, how weird is that, right?”
“For reals.” Sana hesitates. “So do you think Vera’s right? That somebody killed him?”
For a long moment, Riki doesn’t say anything as he stares into the distance. “I really can’t say.”
“I mean, there was the break-in, which is too much of a coincidence, so it must be related to Marshall’s death, which means he was definitely killed, right?”
“I guess, but nothing was taken. The police haven’t found any evidence or anything, so I have no idea what to think.”
Sana gnaws on her bottom lip. “Do you...” She hesitates, grimacing, then goes for it. “Do you think maybe Oliver did it? He was the only one who knew about the bird dander allergy.”
“True, but maybe Julia knew too? She was married to Marshall, so she could’ve very well known. It’s the kind of thing you’d tell your spouse, right?”
“Good point.” Sana sighs. “I hate to think of either of them as the killer, though.”
“Same here. You know, for a while there, I thought I—” His voice wobbles, but he takes a breath and continues. “I thought I’d done it. I punched him the night he died, and I thought that maybe...”
Sana’s guts twist painfully. “That’s a terrible burden to have to bear.”
Riki nods, then he laughs. “Yeah, well, as Vera said, she could’ve told me that it wasn’t possible because my arms are apparently too noodly to kill someone with a single punch.”
“Oh my god, that is so Vera.” Sana chuckles. Too easy to picture Vera saying that. “I also thought I might have had something to do with it too, for a while. That day he died, I’d gone to see him and I scratched him on the cheek. I’ve never attacked anyone like that before. I was so horrified—”
“Same here,” Riki says, compassion thick in his voice. He reaches out and places his hand on top of Sana’s, and the warmth of it calms her harried thoughts. “He had a way of bringing out the worst in people, didn’t he?”
Sana nods. “I think that was what hurt so much. That it was the moment I realized that the world is cruel, and I felt so stupid for not realizing it sooner, because, duh, how obvious is that? And I felt like it was more my fault than anyone else’s. That people like Marshall are always going to exist and always do what they do and it’s my responsibility to protect myself, you know? I felt so ashamed to have fallen for his scam.”
“I’m sorry,” Riki murmurs, casting his eyes down.
Is it just Sana’s imagination or does he look incredibly sad? Her chest tightens and she squeezes his hand. “Hey,” she says, gently, “it’s not your fault. He did the same thing to you.”
“Yeah, but—” Riki bites his lip, like he’s struggling for the right words, and something about this moment, when they are both being so sincere and exposing their wounds to each other, touches Sana’s heart.
Without thinking twice, Sana leans over, closing the space between them, and pushes her lips against Riki’s in a soft, sweet kiss. Whatever Riki was about to say is immediately forgotten as his hands go to Sana’s back and he pulls her closer to him, both of them losing themselves in this single perfect moment.