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CHAPTER I Cherry

The fear that overwhelmed me every time I was dragged under the angry churning waves would have been enough to keep most people out of the ocean. It had happened again, a sort of slithering feeling of dread as I realized that the wave was too big—I was too far forward on my surfboard, and that once again I could already feel the will of the waves. The strong, beautiful ocean was both friend and foe. I knew that every surfer felt this way, but in the deepest part of my heart, I often wondered if it was something more with me; even as I was pushed down, yet again into the surf. I had barely tasted fresh air before the water buried me again. My hair was all over my face, my limbs were helter-skelter in the whitewash; I had no idea where my board was.

I thought I heard a whisper muffled through the roar of the water; ‘I won’t let you go. You are mine now, Cherry.’ That is what it was saying to me, over and over again. It was like the water wanted me. It wanted to pull me deep into itself, where escape would be impossible… where it could consume me like wine.

My chest was starting to feel tight from lack of air. I flailed, trying to free myself from the pull. Where was the air? Which way was up? My fingers brushed cold sky and I shot in that direction clumsily, bursting back up above the foaming after-effects of yet another wave that had wasted me. I gasped and pushed my hair back away from my face before I was tossed off balance by my board as it smacked hard into my chest.

Someone was laughing at me. I looked up and saw that my brother Izy and his best friend Harper were several yards away. They had been caught up and carried by the rogue wave as well, but it had not taken them nearly as far as it took me. It always happened that way. It was something of a joke between me and my friends, because I was so weak that I could never immediately untangle myself once a wave caught me.

I went back under the water, trying to right my hair and get some of the seaweed out from under the strap of my suit. My friend Lisa and her boyfriend Grov had caught the wave, so they hadn’t seen me make such an utter prat out of myself. Lisa was doing a victory vamp beside her new longboard, looking smugly at Grov, as he towed his board back to his side and tried to escape the surf.

The five of us were already hysterical.

Being hysterical and surfing at the same time was not advisable, but sometimes it was unavoidable. There was something about the combination of cool rolling water, bright sunshine, scavenging seagulls, grumpy fishermen and half naked people trying to fly above unknown blue terror on strips of painted wood and foam that made one feel a bit silly.

Lisa and her boyfriend Grov were re-entering the surf now.

Quickly, and with as much grace as possible, I leapt back onto my board and arched my back high, paddling out to meet Izy and Harper who had stopped laughing at me and were preparing to take on another large wave that looked like it was going to break exactly where they were.

“Paddle!” Lisa shouted from somewhere behind me. I whistled as both boys threw themselves into the full force of the wave. Harper lost his balance right after he stood up, but Izy was momentarily transformed into a wave riding god above our heads, as he ripped down the side of falling water with inspiring ease.

I was wrapped up with watching him; the wind blew his sea-soaked chestnut coloured hair away from his peeling nose and deep set eyes. At the last second I remembered to speed up and dive through the wave as it broke right on my back while I lay flat on my board. I felt my suit fill with water as the wave attempt to pull the fabric free from my skin. It almost succeeded but I managed to right myself before anyone noticed my brief nudity.

Izy artfully flipped into the whitewash and was dragged a few feet by the leash.

Three more large waves followed, all of them out of range. We paddled out and waited for the next cluster of waves. The sun was just barely coming up at our backs. It was low tide and in between the bouts of waves, the water was smooth beneath us. It would be a few hours before all the tourists and preteens came to overrun the surf. It was rare, even when we came out this early in the morning, to be the only people on the beach.

“Chi, my love, that one ate you.” Lisa said as she pushed her short, salty hair off of her forehead. She and Grov were wearing matching shortie wetsuits that they had bought on a recent shopping trip at the Irvine Spectrum.

“I noticed, actually. I must be quite delicious.” I said.

“In many ways, Chi,” said Harper with a blush that could have been mistaken for sunburn. He was wearing his wetsuit too, though he had peeled the top down around his waist to show off his tan, muscular chest and arms more effectively.

“Oh yes,” Lisa leered at me comically, and lay down on her board as Grov came up behind her, knee paddling expertly.

Izy, who was playing in the smaller waves near the sand now, was only wearing a rashguard instead of a proper wetsuit. I was perfectly comfortable in my favourite blue bikini, though I usually opted to wear a wetsuit early in the morning; however I had lent it to a friend a few weeks ago and had yet to get it back. My hair looked black from the ocean water, but it was really more of a warm brown, just like my brother’s. It was hanging down on all sides of my shoulders like chucky black snakes, curling and dripping onto my tanned skin. We all gathered together for the few minutes between chances to catch waves, close enough that we could talk, but far enough away that we would not be in immediate danger of crashing into each other if an opportune wave came along sooner than expected.

The five of us had been surfing together for a full year. We came usually two times a week, whenever we could spare a couple of hours in the morning, before school or work, and whenever we could be arsed to get out of bed before the crack of dawn. It had been a full month since all five of us had been able to come out at once. Sometimes, I preferred it when it was just two or three of us. My brother and I came out almost every day, and we were almost always together. Harper had been coming a lot recently and Lisa and Grov were practically inseparable, so if one of them came than we could usually expect the other.

“Only one more day of freedom… we should celebrate somehow,” said Izy as he joined us. He was referring to the fact that it was the last Saturday before the Monday when we would all return to serve out our final year of high school.

“I’m thinking of a big cooler of cold ones,” Harper suggested, his sandy hair was curled tightly from the water’s influence.

“Absolutely not,” protested Lisa as Grov heartily agreed with Harper and showed his support by splashing his girlfriend and consequently me as well.

“Why don’t you girls ever drink with us?”

“You are not drinking with my sister,” said Izy firmly to Harper and Grov.

“We already explored the process of getting completely trashed in my basement a few years ago,” Lisa explained.

“I don’t understand the appeal,” I shrugged. It was true enough that after our interesting experience with Vodka and four of our mutual friends, Lisa and I had decided that heavy drinking was not in our future. We would occasionally sneak a glass of wine to celebrate or lament some twist of fate, but it was a great source of irritation to our guy friends that we refused to get drunk with them like most other girls they knew. Only Izy approved of our inclination to stay sober, and I greatly suspected that it was only because he wanted to keep his twin sister from getting drunk and sleeping with one of his friends.

The others started tossing around ideas of what they could do to celebrate their last weekend before becoming seniors, but I was barely listening. I could already tell that this conversation was going to turn into Lisa defending the two of us girls, while the boys kept making plans to have Grov’s older brother buy them some booze.

I kept my mind on the water. It was hard to tear it away; harder for me than for my companions. I did not like to talk about my intense spiritual connection to the waves, because I knew they did not feel the same way. The water was not just this merciless and entertaining force of nature to me, it was almost like a friend. I often imagined the water speaking to me, the way I had when I had been taken under in the white water just moments ago.

I felt a sort of electrical current in the water, aside from the obvious movement of the ocean, there was something deeper. A pull I could not explain. I could sometimes tell what type of a wave was about to reach us. I would alert the others when these feelings came to me; telling them if the wave we were anticipating was going to peter out or if there was something particularly sweet creeping up on them from the seemingly glassy, quiet surf.

I felt that electricity again, and closed my eyes. In my mind, I could see how the wave was going to break. I was in the perfect spot to catch it and ride the sucker all the way out. I could do it, if I was just able to muster some confidence and paddle with enough force.

“Look alive!” I managed to yell out before I flipped my board around.

“There’s nothing out there,” Grov protested.

Izy copied me without protest, but the others took a moment longer.

“Wow!” was all Harper said as the wave finally rolled into view. It was a monster alright.

It hit us even sooner than I had been expecting, but I was ready this time. I stood up before the wave even broke properly, already able to feel that it was going to push me along without any effort on my part. My stomach swooped up into my lungs as the wave curled and I plummeted downwards. It was high enough that the jolt I felt as it dropped me out in front sent an almost painful shock through my feet and ankles. I balanced myself and heard the wind rush by as I flew out in front of the white water, curving the board around to roll down the side into the blue edges that were still curling and break on either side of me.

I bent my knees low and dipped my fingers into the water as it rushed by.

It happened all at once. The wave began to peter out, just a little, so that a clear blue patch appeared before me. My heart crashed into my ribs as I saw a statuesque silhouette of a man shown darkly in the churning, moving ocean. One hand was inches from her own. I lost my balance in an instant and paid for it. My neck stung where I hit the water. Salt water rushed into my nose and mouth, as I scrambled to right myself.

‘Stay.’ The ocean said. And then there was silence.

“Chi?! Open your eyes, Cherry!” Izy said, panicked. My lungs were burning. I felt something warm, wet and shivering clamp down over my mouth and force air into my throat.

I coughed, wrenched my head to the side and forced up a few cups of unwanted seawater from inside of me. My throat hurt, but I managed to speak after I stopped coughing, “You kissed me, you incestuous pervert.” I croaked.

“Cherry! Oh, you’re alright,” Izy’s voice sounded strange, like he was about to cry. I had not heard my brother cry since our mother died. His voice still sounded just like he was a child, when he was overcome with emotion. Relieved, he registered what I had said, “Twincest,” he grinned, “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, right. Thanks for saving my life. I’m fine… You know you only call me Cherry when I’m in trouble?” I tried to laugh but my throat still hurt. So did my head. I was lying on the sand. I moved my legs. They were shaking and dripping with salt water.

Izy was leaning over me, holding my head up and inspecting my neck for injuries with dangerous curiosity.

“Did I hit hard? Am I bleeding?” I lifted one hand up to my head.

“There’s a little blood,” said Izy vaguely. “Your board came up behind you and bashed you in the back of your head. And when the leash broke, we lost sight of you. The wave let go of your board but kept carrying you. It washed you right up on shore.”

“She’s shaking real bad, maybe we should take her to the hospital.” Harper was behind Izy.

“I’m fine,” I argued, and I sat up, then groaned when I saw my ankle strap. The fabric cover around the velcro had ripped clean off. It was still wrapped uselessly around my ankle. My board was lying in the sand a few feet away. Someone had already removed the broken leash, “It was so old. I knew I should have bought a new leash ages ago.”

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re vibrating like… a vibrator,” said Harper lamely.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Where are Grov and Lisa?”

“They went to get a lifeguard,” Izy explained.

“lifeguards are never around when they’re really needed, are they?” said Harper grimly. “Did I tell you about the time when I was eight and caught in a rip-tide for twenty minutes, and then the lifeguard came out, not to help me, but just to inform me that I was stuck? I knew that. Ass.”

I tried to sit up, but Izy’s hand prevented me from doing so, “You’re really white looking, why don’t you rest?”

“Yeah,” I said vaguely, my head spinning.

“Hey, what happened out there? You looked awesome and totally in control and then you just went under,” Harper looked down at me.

“I thought I saw… a shark,” I lied.

That sent both of the boys into fits of laughter, though Izy stopped before Harper did. “Yes. That makes sense. If you see a shark, jump on him!”

“I didn’t jump off, I crashed!”

“It kind of looked like you jumped,” Harper challenged me.

“Why would I jump?”

“She’s awake!” yelled a voice from across the sand. Lisa was sprinting towards us with two men in tow. One of them was Grov and the other was one of the many red-suited lifeguards who worked at the beach.

“I’m not wasting all my last Saturday in the hospital,” I said stubbornly from between Grov and Harper in the back-seat of our old red station wagon.

“You might have a concussion,” Izy argued.

“I’m not concussed, am I repeating myself? Am I trying to fall asleep? No. My head barely even hurts, I feel excellent, and its not even like nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I told you, I’ve blacked out while spinning in the waves before…”

“Yeah, but that’s not normal either,” Izy argued, and jolted the car to a stop as we reached the light. He left his foot on the break but quickly slipped his wet rash-guard off and threw it at me.

It landed on my head, I tore it off and tossed it in the back of the cab. “I’m fine,” I said again, “I’ll feel absolutely fabulous once you get me a Horchata and something with lots of Guacamole.” I really did not feel ‘excellent’. My head hurt, but it wasn’t so bad.

Izy still looked cross, but he didn’t force me to the hospital. He didn’t want to spend all day sitting in the Emergency Room either, if he could help it. He pulled in to the little parking lot around Pedro’s a small Mexican place that was a favourite of the hard-core surfers in San Clamente.

The boys went to order. Me and Lisa sat down on a white bench on the patio. The paint was peeling away from the wood so we lay a towel down to protect against splinters.

Birds as small as mice were scurrying around us and picking up crumbs in their little beaks; refusing to shy away from our sandy feet. I brushed the remnants of someone’s burrito from the top of the table to the ground for them to have. The crumbs had barely touched the ground when no less than four birds fell onto the treat.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lisa asked twirling her nose-stud out of habit and looking at me through her probing eyes.

“Yeah, I feel fine. How about you?” asking Lisa about how she was feeling was a sure way to keep the conversation far away from me for a while.

Lisa sighed and pulled at a lock of her hair, giving her head the slightest shake, “I don’t know…” she looked at the boys over my shoulder, who were still waiting in line to order, “We’ve been sleeping together for two months now... I love him, but sometimes I’m not sure he really cares about me as much as he used to. He’s changed so much.”

I nodded sympathetically and gave the boys a surreptitious glance as well.

“I just wish the summer was longer. Maybe if we had more time alone together with no distractions… we could figure this out before we have to be back at school and busy all the time—urgh!” she groaned, “And with all those other girls! Sluts.”

“Don’t worry, Grov isn’t like that,” I argued.

“…I’m not sure I really know what he’s like anymore. Sex is supposed to change everything,” she crossed her legs so abruptly that the birds were startled and flew to the next table in a rush, “Maybe I wasn’t ready.”

Lisa could talk all she wanted about how unsure she was of Grov and how crazy the last two months had been for her, but it was hard for me to believe she really felt that way when I saw them together. Grov was always watching her, always ready to spring to her side. Maybe Lisa just didn’t see that he was always touching her; always aware. They seemed so right for each other. I hated to think that what I had been reading in books was right all along and that perfect relationships were impossible. Grov and Lisa seemed perfect, until Lisa started talking like this.

The truth was; it made me a little angry. Lisa complained about Grov on a regular basis, but she had someone who really cared about her. I guess I was jealous. I just had no idea what exactly it was I was coveting so much, because I had never even had a boyfriend.

“Sometimes…” Lisa started and stopped abruptly, turning very red under her russet-brown skin, “It’s dorky… but sometimes, I wish I had like… a mom around. Or someone who was like, older and smarter than me and could tell me about this stuff.”

I nodded again. I knew that wish. Lisa’s mom had run out on them, when Lisa was still just a baby. Her father blamed postpartum depression, which didn’t help anything for Lisa.

The guys came back then, making girl-talk impossible. We ate and everyone asked me if I was sure I was alright about twenty times each. I was. For the moment.

Song of the Chapter: Death Cab for Cutie, We Looked Like Giants. This tune has a sort of pensive quality to the lyrics and tone, but simultaneously it’s got that great organic sound with the guitars. Very surf. Nice.