Heat Wave

“Nice bum, where you from?”


I glare at Charlie over my shoulder and resist the urge to pull down my bikini bottoms. I knew I should have worn my board shorts, but they were still damp from yesterday. At least I’ve got a tank top on to protect me against board rash, which is no joke.

It’s been two weeks since I first landed on Kauai, and this is surf lesson number two. The first one Charlie gave me was on the smooth waves of Hanalei Bay. He spent about an hour just going over the basics of the board, including form and posture, all while on the beach. The following hour was spent in the water, with me bailing on every single wave I attempted to ride.

That was a few days ago. Today we don’t have as much time so we’re hitting up the beach just to the side of the hotel. There’s a narrow patch where the sand stretches out and the reef is set back far from the shore. Today the waves are coming in mild, rolling swells that can’t be more than two feet high.

To anyone else they would be children’s waves—and not even that. When we were at Hanalei, I was getting schooled by six-year-olds who could take the waves better than I could. But to me, they are just big enough. Even though I’d played it cautious with the ocean the last two weeks, it still makes me nervous.

I’ve got my own board now, tucked under my arm. It’s a longboard, since they’re easier to learn on and even though it’s bruised and battered—Charlie says he reserves it for the timid learners—I’ve already formed a strange attachment to it. When we’re out there, it’s the only thing to keep me from sinking.

Charlie follows me into the water—I struggle a bit at the break—until my toes barely touch the bottom and he holds the board while I climb on.

“Okay,” he says, letting go and moving away. I get myself into position, lying flat on it with my hands in the push up position, my toes pressed down against the board. “Don’t look behind you, just look forward. You see that gnarly looking tree on the shore between the palms? That’s an ironwood trees. Keep your focus there.”

“When do I stand up?” I ask him nervously. I hate the feel of the ocean at my back, hate the fact that he lets go so soon. Even though the water is somewhat calm today, I still get the fear of an unseen rip coming underneath me and taking me and the board far out to where no one can reach me.

Not to mention sharks. They’re real and I try my hardest not to think about them.

“You’ll know,” he says.

Right. Like the ocean is whispering its fucking secrets to me. I’m not Ariel!

“Not these waves,” he says, “next ones.”

I feel the board rise up, the sun filtering through the water and turning it a glowing aquamarine. It’s not that deep here, and with the water so clear I can see the sandy bottom interspersed with the occasional rock that catches my eye. Is that a fish? Something worse?

“Focus on the tree!” Charlie says and out of the corner of my vision I see him treading water, being taken in closer to the shore with each pass of the waves.

I take in a deep breath and steady myself.

“Now!” Charlie yells. “Paddle, paddle, paddle!”

I stick my hands in the water and start moving them as fast as I can, which isn’t very fast. I can beat an egg a mile a minute, but this is a total body workout, my shoulders and triceps working overtime as I try and keep up with the wave.

“Up, up up!” Charlie’s now yelling.

I’m not sure I agree. I’m ahead of the wave now but it doesn’t feel right. Still, what the hell do I know? Unsteadily, I push myself up onto my knees, trying to keep my balance and do that final, terrifying step to my feet.

“Focus on the tree!”

My head snaps up but instead of seeing the tree like I should, I see Logan, walking along the beach and staring at us with a disapproving expression.

Great.

That’s all it takes for me to completely lose my balance.

I tilt to the left and hit the water just as the wave crashes on top of me. I’m swirling, the water rushing past my ears, the sand sweeping over my face. The board goes in another direction, still dragged by the surf, the band tugging hard at my ankle until I’m sure it’s going to snap.

I swim for the surface and burst through as the bottom scrapes against my knees and I’m swept up on the shore.

I quickly wipe my eyes with one hand as I stagger to my knees, the next wave crashing behind me, and pull out the giant wedgie from my butt with my other.

“Ron!” Charlie is yelling from behind me and I can hear him splashing to shore. “Are you okay?”

But I don’t turn around. My eyes are glued to Logan’s. He’s standing right in front of me, the ocean licking the tops of his bare feet as they sink into the sand, staring down at me with an expression I can’t read.