29. Jack
JACK ARRIVED AT WALT’S SHOP AT SEVEN IN THE MORNING FOR his first surfing lesson. Seeing the remains of Walt’s store, Jack wanted to round up more business for him. Walt had replaced all the Sheetrock. The store sparkled and smelled of bleach.
His motivation to surf wasn’t entirely altruistic, however. He felt like the cowboy rube from the Hill Country. When everyone talked about the tide, kiteboarding, kayaking, sailing, and surfing, he wanted to contribute. Not to mention the other reason, he needed a hobby to entertain him while Teddy worked, and when he took the day off from the ARK.
Waves were hit or miss in Texas, but Walt said the best waves were in fall and winter. Last night, he practiced old-fashioned burpees as Walt had instructed. He spotted Walt out on the beach waxing a surfboard. The waves appeared friendly enough. A thin mist covered the Gulf, and the wind blew gently.
“Yo, dude.” He waved to Walt.
“That’s my line.” Walt pulled his long blond hair back into a rubber band. “Here’s your board. Let me see you paddle on the sand and stand up.”
Jack dropped onto the board and demonstrated paddling, and then he pressed up and jumped onto his feet.
“Not bad.” Walt rearranged Jack’s feet on the board. “Try again.”
Jack popped into standing and mimed surfing a wave.
“All right. But no clowning around. That’s my job. When you’re out there, you can’t hesitate, bro. I’m giving you a longboard. It’s easier.”
“You’re telling me I’m getting beginner equipment.”
“You’re a beginner, aren’t you?”
“Good point.” He pulled off his T-shirt. “It’s going to be cold.”
“Not really. Little known secret. October is the best time to go to the beach. The Gulf had the whole summer to warm up.”
Jack stuck his feet in the water. “Nice.”
“Told you,” Walt said. “And if you don’t get a ride today, the lesson is free.”
“I can’t let you do that. I’m not exactly built to be a surfer.”
“Just because you’re big and muscular doesn’t mean you can’t surf.” Walt hesitated. “But, there’s truth to the saying that the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
Jack groaned.
“Your impact will carry more momentum. But, don’t worry. All’s good. You will surf today. My reputation depends on it.”
“What reputation is that?”
“Everyone who takes a lesson from me surfs the first day, if I have to carry them myself.”
“I’d like to see you do that.”
“First thing you do is spend a minute and check out the waves. You’re lucky. It’s a good day to learn. Nice and clean one-to-two-foot waves.” Walt stepped into the surf. “When we get knee deep, we’ll paddle out. If a big wave comes toward you, you’ll need to duck dive through it. You put all your weight on your shoulders and push the board down just before the wave crashes.”
Walt demonstrated with an incoming wave while Jack waited in the shallow water. Seeing Walt disappear into the wave scared the bejeebies out of him. Used to the clear, rocky-bottomed-rippling creeks and lakes of northeast Texas, he sucked in a deep breath. Show time.
Walt emerged and waited, standing chest deep in the water. Jack bellied up on his board and started paddling. A wave crashed over him, and he kept paddling. Miraculously, he managed to catch up with Walt, though he chickened out when confronted with completing the duck dive.
“You got here,” Walt yelled over the roar of the surf. “That’s a start.”
In the distance, a triangular fin sliced through the water. He yelled and pointed.
Walt turned and watched. The fin arched into the air. A dolphin. Whew! Four more dolphins appeared. The flutter in Jack’s heart slowed.
“Don’t worry, bro. Sharks don’t eat much.”
“I wasn’t worried,” he lied.
“Whatever you say. I’m going to push you off. You just need to stand up.”
“It’s that simple?”
“It is when I set you up.” Walt kept his eyes on the wave action behind them. On his count, Walt shoved the board in front of a wave. “Stand up, stand up.”
Jack straightened his arms, pulled his feet up under him, and eased into standing. A wave shoved him. He wobbled, gripping the board with his toes. Just like Big Bill when he dove for fish, Jack skimmed over the Gulf. Then, a split second later, the board tilted. He crouched, but the board flipped and dumped him into the surf.
Walt’s head popped out of the water next to him, as if he were a seal. “Did you feel the hand of God pushing you, good buddy?”
“Is that what that was?”
“You better believe it.” Walt slapped him on the back. “Congratulations, you are no longer a hodad. Now, let’s see if you can catch one by yourself. It’s much trickier.”
“Great.” He’d rather have Walt’s help.
After another hour of trying, he finally managed to catch a wave.
“You’re one of the hardest working beginners I’ve seen,” Walt said.
Sitting on his board, breathless, Jack watched the surf, hardly able to believe that just minutes ago he rode those waves. Pickles ran through the water, and Teddy waved from the beach.
“You know Teddy’s dog?” Jack asked.
“Sure. Cute in an ugly sort of way.”
“Or ugly in a cute sort of way. You’d never seen her before the hurricane, had you?”
“Hard to say. There’re a lot of dogs around just like her.”
Jack knew that to be true. The terrier mix breed crowded the shelters.
“You think it’s someone’s dog?” Walt asked.
“She does act as if she’s pre-owned.”
“What’s Teddy think?” Walt squinted in the sun.
Jack tensed. “She doesn’t want to talk or think about the possibility.”
“A good dog, a good wave, a good woman, that’s what life’s all about.” Walt chuckled. “Or in my case, a good wave, a good wave, a good wave.”
“I just wondered if you’d seen the dog before.”
“If this is eating you, put her picture up on Facebook.”
“I think Teddy should do it.”
“I don’t know why you can’t as well. You spot it, you got it.”
“Speaking of the devil”—Walt pointed to Teddy—“time for you to show off.” Walt put a hand in the air. “Wait. Wait. Okay, buddy, get ready. When I say go, paddle, paddle, paddle.”
Just as the wave crested, he took off.
Walt yelled, “Stand up, stand up.”
He jumped into standing and rode the wave for about ten blissful seconds before falling. He tumbled in the surf and then found his footing. His legs limp as a garden snake, he hobbled to the shore.
Teddy lifted her arms. “Touchdown!”
“Did you see that? Sick, right?” He gave Teddy a peck on the lips.
“So now you you’re talking surf lingo?”
“What can I say, I’m a natural.” He wrapped his arms around her.
Teddy screamed and ran away. “You’re freezing and sopping wet.”
“You’re warm and dry.” He would have chased her, but all the energy had drained out of him.
“So, Teddy,” Walt yelled. “What do you think of your rodeo cowboy now?”
“I’ve never been a rodeo cowboy.”
“Whatever you were, you’re a surfer now.” Walt shook his hand.
“I know one thing. I’ll never think of surfers as slackers again. That’s a real workout.” He shivered.
“You better get out of those wet clothes”
Teddy smiled at him as if she felt as proud of his accomplishment as he felt. She acted like a partner. Just what he needed.
After a warm shower, Jack spent the rest of the day helping Pete fix the boardwalk at the refuge. By dark, he dropped onto the bed in his RV and immediately fell asleep. Around midnight, he woke. Unable to go back to sleep, he surfed channels for fifteen minutes before realizing that despite the one hundred and fifteen channels of his satellite, nothing interested him.
He pulled out his iPad and checked the Bird Isle Facebook page for updates about the Whooping Crane Festival. He hoped Barb happened to secure The Trawlers for the dance. No word on that. He scrolled through the posts. Walt added a note saying that Surftown remained in business. He reminded readers of his No Surf–No Pay policy. Your lesson is free if you don’t surf on the first day.
What a day. Riding that wave, he’d felt the hand of God. All that and Teddy, too. His life changed when he met her.
Nothing on the iPad interested him until a flash of a dog appeared on the screen. Pickles? Teddy must have posted a picture after all.
With a tap, the message enlarged. The post came from a boy named Oscar, who happened to be missing a dog like Pickles. In fact, the dog had the same overbite and bristly wild hair—definitely Pickles. Jack cringed.
Dear Facebook:
Help Oscar find his dog. We lost her in the hurricane. She is three years old and likes chasing seagulls on the beach. She is frightened of thunderstorms and ran off before the hurricane. She is likely somewhere on Bird Isle. Please help us find her. My son misses his dog so much. I can be contacted through Austin Pets Alive.
He clicked on an attached video of Pickles playing on the beach with Oscar. The scene could make a grown man cry. No wonder the post had a thousand likes already. In elementary school when his dog, Duke, tangled with a bull, he had to be put down. Jack spent weeks mourning Duke. Now Oscar suffered the same thing. Jack had to break the news to Teddy.