day five:

it is monday and we decide to take a bike ride. its partially inspired by her father, who bikes up a mountain three times a week and who is sixty three years old, leaving us no excuses. shes in much better shape than me. where as she is a lean, mean, biking machine, i am the equivalent of a sack of potatoes placed on the seat of a bike. but we still venture out into the sunny wetness of the island. and i huff and puff along side of her, game for adventure.

we go up and down long hills, circling around a golf course and finally parking at a beach. we get off the bikes and she points out a few places she played as a child. a small patch of trees. a rock near the edges of shore. a pathway leading right to the ocean. she tells me they look different. they all look different. development has taken away the memories of her youth. we watch the ocean and she sighs. there are tourist everywhere. she says it used to be a local beach.

on the way back i crap out on a hill. i stop the bike and stand and, heaving deep, uneven breathes, tell her we need to take a break. she smiles and looks forgiving but i can tell she wanted to keep going. i hop back on the bike and as were going up she tries to talk to me. i dont answer because im grumpy and tired and wish the hill would plateau and end. when we reach the top i say one thing: finally.

that night we take it easy. we go back to the restaurant we had brunch at and i have a manhattan and she has a glass of proseco. we have a few rounds and i go outside and smoke a bunch of cigarettes while watching the moon sit atop a distant mountain. they have a speaker outside and it plays christmas carols at a soft volume. [it blew me away how much christmas spirit maui had]. at home that night i try to have sex with her but she wont because were below her parents bedroom. shes afraid the muffled cries will alert them of our activity. its understandable, but i sleep restlessly the whole night.