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“No, you cannot.” She gave my sleeve a little tug. “Come on, it’s about to start.”
We took our mats and joined the group on the grass. The goats meandered around the yoga participants, and I pet those that ventured nearest to me while the instructor led the group through breathing exercises. Some of the goats were mere babies with little sharp hoofs and soft coats. The adults had stiffer coats, and some bulged in the middle as if they’d swallowed two basketballs.
One adult plopped down right in the middle of my mat and lay there placidly. Unbothered. And unmovable.
“Oi. Goat. Move.”
It acted as though it hadn’t heard me. I looked to Daisy beside me. “Now what?”
She laughed and reached out a slender arm to pat the goat’s belly. “Looks like you have a yoga partner.”
“How am I supposed to do…anything?”
“Think of it as a test of your flexibility.”
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered, but I found myself inexplicably on the verge of laughing.
The instructor led us through maneuvers that I had to perform with a large and likely very pregnant goat on my mat. Achieving any kind of Zen or relaxation or whatever the hell yoga was supposed to do was impossible with a smelly goat as my partner.
More distracting was Daisy in yoga pants that hugged the curves of her ass and made her legs look a million miles long. She was radiant, the sunlight glinting off the curls of her hair, and her smile perfect as she stopped doing yoga altogether to cradle a baby goat in her arms. She met my eye, and instead of complaining about my predicament, I felt a lightness in my chest, like a balloon that kept filling with warm air instead of anger and frustration.
When it came time to get on all fours, my yoga “partner” still hadn’t budged. I had to kneel in the shitty mud. No sooner was I in position than a baby goat leapt onto my back, its little sharp hooves digging into my skin and most likely ruining my $190 Ralph Lauren workout shirt.
“This little fucker doesn’t care at all about my feelings, does he?” I asked Daisy. “He’s just going to climb wherever the hell he wants.”
“Yep,” Daisy said, laughing. “That’s what I love about goats. Their don’t-give-a-crap attitude is inspirational. Hold on. We need to memorialize this moment.”
She set aside her own little goat to grab her phone and took a pic of me. On all fours in the mud. With a goat on my back.
Laughing, she turned the phone to show me.
“Just as I suspected. The little bastard is just using me.” I winced as the goat turned a circle on my back and gave the collar of my shirt a nip. “I craned my neck. “Oi. Mate. I have feelings too.”
Daisy’s slim shoulders shook with mirth, and I laughed too, and generally felt better than I had in months. Even when the pregnant goat finally rousted herself and promptly let loose a stream of thick yellow piss all over my mat. I only laughed harder.
Daisy brushed her hands together. “My work here is done. The smile on your face…” Her cheeks turned pink and she looked away. “That was worth it.”
The moment between us caught and held, and then the sky darkened above. Clouds rolled in fast, indicating a storm, and not just one of Hawaii’
s typical and frequent rain showers.
“Damn,” Daisy said, hugging herself and looking up at the ominous sky. “I read a storm was coming through but hoped it would pass us.”
I started to make a joke but Daisy’s beautiful face was closed down in worry.
“It’s all good,” I said. “Storms come and go. Nothing to fear.”
Her bronze eyes darted to me and then away. “Right. Can we get going? If there’s going to be lightning, I want to be with Keanu so he doesn’t freak out.”
“Sure. Let me just wash off the souvenir my yoga partner left me.”
Daisy didn’t crack a smile as I used a hose at the side of the house to wash off my mat, then joined her at the Jeep.
“You okay?” I asked before we got in. She was staring at her phone, her brows furrowed, gnawing on her lip.
“Sometimes storms lead to power outages and the weather service is saying this one looks worse than they thought.” She glanced at me. “The guesthouse doesn’t have a back-up generator by any chance?”
“Not sure. I know the main house does.” I cocked my head. “Do storms really bother you so much? If so…you picked the wrong bunch of islands to move to.” I held up my hands at her dark look. “I’m just saying…”
