“He’s just gone inside. Terry!” Sean calls into the shack. “You there?”
“Terry was my surf teacher,” I tell Lev. “And he’s the most awesome person in the world.”
“The most awesome person in the world?” Lev raises his eyebrows. “OK. I have to meet him.”
“It’s true,” Sean joins in, nodding. “He taught me too. Taught everyone. Taught us everything.” He raises his voice again. “Terry, some friends here to see you!”
A moment later, Terry appears on the deck. He’s wearing a fleece jacket and a woolly hat and there’s a Band-Aid on his chin. He looks even frailer than he did the other day. But I force myself not to react at his appearance. He’s still Terry.
“Terry!” I say, stepping forward. “It’s me, Sasha. And this is Lev.”
“Of course it is!” Terry says. “Good to see you both again!” His blue eyes dart around uncertainly. “Now, you’ve both surfed before, haven’t you? Because the beginner class is full today.”
“Yes, we’ve surfed before,” I say, nodding. Then I turn to Lev and murmur, “He’s not quite … Just go with it.”
“I’ve never surfed,” says Lev, ignoring me. He steps forward and engages Terry’s gaze intently. “I know nothing. What can you tell me, Terry? The single most important thing I should know.”
For a few moments Terry looks bewildered, and my heart wrenches. But then a sharpness returns to his eyes.
“You still don’t remember, after all these lessons?” he addresses Lev tetchily. “You haven’t learned the most important thing? Are your parents paying for you to stare at the sky all day? Am I wasting my time?”
“Sorry,” says Lev humbly. “Tell me again. I’m listening.”
Again, Terry looks momentarily caught out—but then he frowns impatiently.
“Well, look, look, look. You know it, really. You all do.” He sweeps his arm as though addressing a class. “You have to enjoy the ride. Why else are you learning to surf? The ride is it.”
“Enjoy the ride,” echoes Lev, and a strange half smile spreads across his face. “Of course. How did I forget that?”
“The ride is it,” says Sean, winking at us.
“The ride is it.” I smile back at him.
“But where are the others?” Terry’s gaze drifts along the empty beach and he frowns, looking distressed. “They’re all late. Class should have begun ten minutes ago. And where’s Sandra got to?” He swivels around in confusion. “Have you seen Sandra?”
“She’s fine, Terry,” says Sean quickly. “She just had to pop out. But I’m not sure the class is happening after all. Maybe tomorrow, mate.”
A light in Terry’s face slowly dies away. He looks around the deserted beach, then nods, as though accepting something he has no control over. He looks defeated, and I feel an overpowering sadness. I don’t know how aware Terry is of his situation, if he can really tell what he’s lost. But right now he looks desolate, and I want to give him back something. Anything.
“Terry, I’m here!” I exclaim impulsively. “I’m here for class. I just need to go and change into my wetsuit. Can I still rent a board?” I add quickly to Sean.
“Sure,” says Sean, looking taken aback. “But …” He glances at Terry and back at me. “You’re not serious?”
“Terry’s up for teaching,” I say simply. “And I’m up for learning. There’s the sand.” I gesture. “There’s the sea. Let’s do it.”
“I’m up for learning too,” says Lev firmly. “Can I rent a suit and a board?”
Sean looks a bit freaked out. “OK, listen, if you’re really doing this … This is not a lesson.” He glances at Terry. “This is not insured. This is nothing to do with me.”
“Understood.” I nod.
“Then go for it.” Sean’s face crinkles in a smile. “Maybe I’ll join in. Let me get you both boards.”
As I jog back to the lodges, I’m looking around for Finn, but I can’t see him anywhere, so I send him a text and hope he’ll get it in time.
Surf’s up. Class is on at the Surf Shack. Terry says you’re late. X
It’s like going back in time. It could be the old Terry teaching us. It’s unbelievable.
As he runs through the familiar warm-up routine, yelling instructions all the while; as he makes us lie down and paddle on the sand; as he gets us crouching and standing up … It’s Terry. He’s assured, he’s funny, he has gimlet eyes and notices every error.
“Look, look, look,” he keeps saying to Lev. “You’re going to need to be strong. Got it?” He jabs him in the stomach, and Lev wobbles on his board. “See? That’s no good. You need to be strong.” His gaze drifts away down the beach. “Now, who’s this?”
I turn to see—and my heart lifts. It’s Finn, in his black wetsuit, running along the sand with his board. He meets my eyes with a kind of disbelieving What the hell? expression, and I smile back.
“You’re late!” I call.
“Sorry,” says Finn. “Sorry, Terry.”
“Sorry is no good, young man!” Terry calls to him, exasperated. “Sorry is no good! You’re not warmed up, you’ve missed the basics.…”
“I’ll catch up,” says Finn quickly, then walks right over to Terry. Despite everything I’ve told him, I can see he’s shocked at Terry’s frail appearance but trying to hide it. “How are you doing, Terry?” he says. “I’m Finn. Finn Birchall. I don’t know if you remember me—”
“You’re late is who you are,” says Terry crisply. “So I wouldn’t be wasting time on words if I were you.”
“Fair enough.” Finn grins. “Glad nothing’s changed.”
By the time he reappears with his board, Terry is midstream again, and Finn flashes me a grin.
“The board is rigid, do you understand?” Terry slaps his board for effect. “It’s helpless. Without your skill, it would get tossed about on the waves. But, luckily, you all have superpowers—let’s call them surferpowers.” He twinkles at us, knowing he’s got everyone’s attention. “So use them! Your surferpower is flexibility.” He points at Finn, and I remember how he sometimes used to do this: give us surferpowers before we went in the water. “Yours is perseverance,” he says, pointing at Sean. “And yours is vision,” he tells Lev. “Eyes forward!”
“Eyes forward!” repeats Lev, who is standing stiffly on his board, looking totally uncomfortable in his surfing stance. “Got it!”
“What’s mine?” I can’t help asking. I know it’s needy, but I’m worried Terry will drift away and forget me. And I really want a surferpower.
For a moment Terry gazes at me with that blank, bewildered look, and I’m afraid I’m too late—but then he snaps back.
“Yours is love,” he says, as though it’s obvious. “Can’t surf without love. Why do we get in the water in the first place? Why do we keep on trying, paddling, wiping out, picking ourselves up, going out there again?” He turns to survey the ocean. “Because we love it.”
There’s a silent beat as Terry stands there, a frail old man, surveying the ocean he’s spent so much of his life in, while we all watch him. And suddenly I’m blinking hard, because I hope he realizes it’s not the waves we’re loving right now. It’s not the waves that brought us here today. It’s him.
Should I tell him? Say something?
But already he’s wheeling round to us, exactly like the old Terry, and the moment’s gone.
“OK, kids,” he says, and points to the ocean. “Enough talk. Go get it.”
Twenty-Three
An hour later, I’m sitting with Finn in the shallows, his arm around me, our legs tangled up together. I can’t stop smiling. In fact, I think I’ve been smiling solidly for an hour. My face will be stuck like this forever.
“The waves,” I say wonderingly.
“I know.” Finn grins. “Incredible. Thanks for texting me.”
“Oh God, of course,” I say. “You couldn’t miss Terry’s special guest appearance.”