3. Chapter 3
T wo days before the Christmas Open Surfing Competition, I was restless and eager. If I placed well at the Open, I would move on to Worlds. With that came the big money from sponsors, and a chance to really make a name for myself. It was everything I wanted, everything I’d been working for since I first popped up on a board. I wanted it so badly, I could taste it.
I’d always found that the best place to work out my nerves was on the water. I checked the surf report, grabbed my board and wetsuit, and headed to ‘ The Wedge .’ The Wedge was a small section of beach known for huge, shore-breaking waves. It was dangerous, a true test for skilled surfers, and known for wipeouts. I’d attempted it before when the waves were hitting the teens, but today there were supposed to be twenty-footers, and I was itching to conquer it .
By the time I stood in front of the water, the swells had risen to over twenty feet. It was daunting to look at, but hella exciting. I could do this. If I could conquer The Wedge at its worst, then the competition would be a piece of cake. Bolstering myself, I held my board and ran into the water. The waves broke right along the shore, pounding me and tossing me around before I was fully in the water.
Past the breaks, I duck-dived; dipping under the water with my board through an oncoming wave, and began paddling as soon as I broke through the surface on the other side. The water fought me every step of the way, a clue I should have listened to. I was breathing hard, and the muscles in my arms were angry by the time I made it to the back—the area of calm past the waves where I would be sitting in the lineup of surfers waiting for our turns at the competition. But today, it was just me.
Catching my breath, I began having some reservations as I watched the swells before me build and grow. They were big . Bigger than I’d ever attempted before, but I’d gotten myself out here and the only way back was through. I sat on my board, legs floating in the water, and shook my hands, trying to rid myself of the nerves that crept in.
I could do this. I could do this. I could fucking do this! Hyping myself up, I saw my opportunity; the swell was gathering power, and I began paddling to catch the crest. I caught the wave, and popped up. For a brief moment, I was higher than I’d ever been. It felt like flying, riding so far above the land that it looked miniscule from up here, and then it all went to shit.
Before I knew it, I was thrown from my board and driven into the water, the power of the wave, pushing me deep beneath despite being tethered to my board. And then CRACK ! My knee slammed into a rock, making me scream underwater, and my vision whited out in pain, all while being ragdolled, tossed around without any control. My scream meant I’d expelled any oxygen I had in my lungs, which now burned with the need for air.
Red floated around me; blood leaking from my shattered knee. When I saw movement in the water, I panicked, thinking it might be a shark. Instead, a face appeared before me. An angel. I could almost be certain there was a fin or something behind him, but all I could concentrate on was his face. How he stared at me with curiosity and uncertainty. Before I knew it, I was being brought up to the surface, where I spluttered and coughed, but was able to breathe again. The pain broke through once more, consuming my every thought until it was too much to bear, and I lost consciousness.
I woke up with a shout, sitting straight up, clutching my knee, the phantom pain from the past so vivid and clear. Beads of sweat trickled down my forehead as I huffed in shallow breaths, trying to recall where I was. Seeing my room, and that I was no longer caught underwater, I forced myself to relax. Purposefully inhaling deeply and releasing it slowly. I was okay. The dream was from the past. It was over. My teeth ached from clenching my jaw, and a pang shot down my leg at the jerky movements from waking up.
It had been a while since I’d had the full dream, replaying every second of it. More often than not, it came in flashes or inserted itself into other dreams. Sometimes my injury was portrayed in different ways. I’d been shot, bitten, fell while walking, in a car accident—all kinds of fun scenarios my brain conjured up during sleep to explain the event.
“Fuck!” I mumbled, and climbed out of bed, wobbling when I first stood and put weight on my bad leg. After reliving the worst moment of my life, I knew it would be impossible to settle back down. I limped over to the bathroom, forcing my steps to normalize by the time I got there. After taking a piss and washing my hands, I splashed water on my face and scrubbed my hands over the scruff.
When I came back out, I looked at my phone to see the time. It was almost four in the morning, which meant my alarm would be going off soon, anyway. I might as well get an early start… and a large coffee. The ocean might be naturally invigorating, but it might need a little assistance today. It was going to be one of those days where I wished I could set up an IV and get a direct line of caffeine into my system. Before I could leave, though, I had one more thing I had to do and pulled out my phone.
Me: Good morning, Gramps. I’m heading to the beach .
I almost felt bad for messaging my grandfather so early, but he made me promise to let him know, no matter the time of day. That was one of the many mistakes I’d made on that fateful day eight years ago. I hadn’t let anyone know where I was going to be or when. I was fortunate that someone had been on the beach that day, who’d called for a rescue when they didn’t see me come back up. It was still muddled in my mind when I thought back to it. Of course, I’d blacked out, but I was told they’d found me propped up on a rock. There was no way the tide would have carried me to it, and I was in too much pain—and unconscious—to get myself there. It was counted as a miracle, one I was beyond thankful for. Of course, I also thought of the face underwater.
He had to have been an angel because I had gotten so turned around, I wouldn’t have been able to fight my way to the surface, and I had been out of breath when we broke through.
Gramps: A little early, isn’t it?
Me: Yeah. Can’t sleep. Gotta hit the water, my usual spot, between lifeguard towers five and six, straight out from the shop.
Gramps: Okay. Be safe and check in.
Me: Will do. Talk to you soon.
At that, I was on my way and parked before five. Despite the bite in the air and the deep black of the sky before the sun broke through, there were a few other cars in the lot. There was the unmanned security car that worked as well as a sticker on a house, and two other cars that belonged to scuba instructors who were drinking coffee between their cars, likely preparing themselves for the class that would be coming soon. We waved at each other when I got out of my truck.
The cold hit me as I unhooked my kayak. I had my wetsuit on already, but I wore a jacket over it, and I zipped it up, pulling the collar up to keep my neck warm. Any sane person would wait until the sun was up and the beach was a bit warmer, and yeah… I probably should do that. But whenever I had the dream about my accident, it left me feeling restless.
It wasn't just the reminder of the accident, but of everything that came after it. The months of rehab and physical therapy, the loss of my dream, the feeling of helplessness. It all buzzed beneath my skin, urging me to take action, to do something simply to remind myself that I could.
Wheeling my kayak down to the shore, I looked out over the calm, dark water. Small swells rolled; not great for surfing, but that was fine. I needed to be on the water and feel that rush, even if it wasn’t to chase the waves.
I replaced my jacket with my zip-up life vest, unhooked the kayak from the cart, and dragged it into the water. The first flick of water against my toes had me jumping and tensing, but I pushed forward. A little cold water never stopped me. Not when I had my board, and especially not now with my kayak. I sat on the open surface of the kayak and paddled. Past the swells until I reached the back. The sun was just starting to break, and the scuba crew was making their way to the beach. For a moment, it felt like it was just me and the sea, sitting still and enveloped by the enormity of the ocean.
It was a fearful thing for most folks to be alone in the water, but I found serenity in it. Nothing calmed me more. Needing to feel more grounded, I hung one leg over the side of the kayak, letting it dangle in the water. My gaze was focused on the sky as I watched the black give way to purples and oranges. It was magical, a renewal. Whatever darkness came before washed away with the dawn.
Enraptured by the beauty nature offered, I scarcely noticed a ripple in the near distance. I looked around and saw a few other surfers now taking to the water, though there was a comfortable cushion of space between us. Out of the corner of my eye, another ripple appeared, a little closer than before. I scanned the surface, but didn’t see anything nearby.
Waves and nods were exchanged between myself and the other early morning surfers. I was no longer alone in the vastness of the ocean. Still, I remained in place, enjoying the calm. A bubble broke through the water only feet away from me. I stared at the spot, waiting to see if something or someone would surface, but nothing did. I wasn’t worried, necessarily, but it held my attention. I didn’t fear the sea, even after my accident, but I respected it and the creatures who lived in it. This was their world, and I was merely a guest in it.
A rush of water rolled beneath my dangling foot as if something had pushed past me. I flinched and moved my leg back into the kayak.
“What the hell?” I peered over the side, looking into the dark water, trying to see if something was down there. A bubble popped right next to the edge of my kayak. My heart raced as I scanned the area around me. Respect for the ocean also meant listening to it and being smart. For once I was glad I was in my kayak and not on my old board since it provided a layer between me and the water, no limbs overhanging. I held my paddle on my lap, prepared to use it, but not wanting to hurt or disturb whatever was below me.
The water vibrated with another propelling movement. Something was down there. For some reason, the racing of my heart was mixed with a flutter in my belly. I wasn’t scared, cautious perhaps, but I found myself intrigued more than anything. The dream that had woken me early in the night was still so close to the surface that a weird feeling of hope bubbled up in me.
A quick glance around told me no one else had noticed anything. None of the other surfers or the scuba team felt any sense of danger. I leaned over the side again. It was too dark, nothing was visible, but something about it tugged at me. Not sure what I hoped to accomplish, I stretched my hand down, wiggling my fingers in the water. It was foolish; it could have been anything . For some inexplicable reason, I didn’t feel afraid of whatever it was.
A pulse surged beneath the water, and a flash of something light moved beneath me. Tendrils of some sort flicked around my fingers, making me yank my arm back in surprise. I stared at my hand. There were no marks or any indication that whatever touched me had any sort of barbs, teeth, or stingers, but a strange sensation remained. Something had touched me. There was a tactile memory that fought for a place in my mind, something I had felt before. Or someone .
Looking over the edge, I watched, waiting for any sign, any indication of what it was.
“Dude! You okay? Did you lose your paddle?” A surfer I recognized yelled from about a hundred yards away.
Just like that, the enchantment I was under was gone. Shaking my head to clear it, I held up my paddle. “No. I’m good, thanks, man.”
I took another glance around me, but I knew whatever—or whoever —had touched me was gone.
Letting out a heavy sigh, I carefully placed one of the blades of my paddle into the water and pushed, then tilted it so the blade on the other side dipped into the water, and so on until the small waves pushed me into the sand. I sat, beached, long enough to invite concerned inquiries as my mind was still trying to wrap itself around what had happened.
“Are you hurt? Do you need any help?”
“I’m fine. Honest. Thanks, though.” I waved off the runner in a full tracksuit and climbed out of my kayak, pulling it back to where I’d left the cart with my belongings.
Weird. Weird and… exciting . I might not have felt the same if it had been a jellyfish that caressed me with stinging tentacles. I looked at my hand again. It wasn’t a jelly. Sightings here weren't uncommon along the coast, depending on the season, but it wasn’t that, I knew it. And a caress? Why was that the word that came to mind as I thought of the strange touch I’d felt?
Shit, maybe I just needed sleep. Or coffee. I’d have to open my shop soon, so I would have to suffice with the latter. Coffee. Lots of it.