4. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
James
A nother day, another dollar, as my dad would say.
I can’t complain. Living in Sydney is what most people dream of. It’s exciting, full of people and you’re never far from the beach. That last one is my dream—and reality. Everyday I wake up and get to work right on the beach.
I’m lucky to get to do the one thing I love—surf, and teach other people to surf. I’m around people who understand the rush that comes with catching the best wave of the day, and the water crashing over you.
But people don’t get the peace it brings too, they don’t understand that it sometimes feels like flying. It’s just you, the ocean, and the sun that beats down on you. It’s euphoric.
And seeing the look on the kids' faces as they manage to ride their first wave is the highlight of my day.
I finish my last lesson of the day and walk the kids back to the shop so they can be collected by their parents.
Some of the kids in this class could probably move up to the next level but I haven’t been able to convince them yet. I think they think they're not ready; I get that, surfing can be dangerous. I don’t blame them for being worried. A wind too strong, a wave too big or a dickhead on the waves who doesn’t know the rules and etiquette and anything could happen .
The last kid waves to me as he runs to his mum's car. I stack the surfboards up in the rack outside the shop making sure they're secure. Reaching for the zip running down my chest, I unzip my wetsuit half way and pull my arms out of it with great difficulty, and let them hang at my side.
I step through the door, and my boss Ella looks up from her spot behind the counter. She’s got a phone wedged between her ear and shoulder. “Can you wax that surfboard?” she whispers as she points to a board resting up against the front of the counter.
I nod, quickly grabbing my work t-shirt from under the till and pull it over my head. I pick up some wax at the same time. I mostly live in a permanent state of being half dressed, being in and out of the sea all day, but it’s just weird in the shop.
Ella says she’s sure some of the girls that come into the store only come in to see me and she might be right. Like I say I’m surfing everyday, and I’m probably in the best shape of my life, I can’t help if other people want to appreciate the hard work I put in. Not that I’m interested after a good flirt and one night together. They all want me to be their soulmate or some bullshit.
I couldn’t believe in that stuff any less if I tried. It pulled my family apart, and I’ve had enough drama to last me a lifetime—and then some.
The bell above the door rings, a warm breeze from the outside slides in and the smell of the salt air sneaks in. Then in strides, Mr. Town Gossip himself, Neil Wides.
He knows everything about everyone, and is always up to date on what’s going on around here. It drives any normal person insane, including me and my dad.
I try not to look up from the surfboard I’m waxing long enough to make eye contact with him, for more then one reason, the main being I might ‘accidentally’ hit him. I’m lucky that I’m not his intended target today; he keeps a straight beeline for Ella. She’s off the phone now and fair game for him.
Ella has been good to me for the past eight years while I’ve worked here at the surf shop, I’m protective over her like I would be with family. So naturally, I keep a well tuned ear on their conversation, ready to provide backup if need be. She’s kind and warm hearted, but tough when need be—both of which make me look up to her.
“So, Eleanor, when is that wonderful niece of yours moving in?” he quizzes as his eyes scan her face. And I watch as he rubs his sweaty hands over his shorts.
But she’s ready with a well practised smile. “Oh, hello, Neil. It’s so nice to see you, too! She’ll actually be here tomorrow afternoon.” The smile falters, but only for a second, not long enough for any normal person to notice, and I hope not long enough for him to notice.
If he does, he doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t change his expression as he continues. “Well, won’t it be exciting having another American around.” He says it like an insult. I mean, we’re only half an hour from Sydney, we get a lot of tourists in town. But it’s what we thrive off.
Sometimes I forget Ella lived in America or I guess I should say born there because she’s lived here for longer than she ever lived there. She moved here like thirty-five years ago, I can’t even imagine her being anywhere else. She’s one of the most decorated surfers I have the privilege of knowing.
I can only hope her niece has some of the same qualities as her, despite the fact she’s here to find her soulmate which already makes me think she’s going to be unbearable, everyone that believes in that stuff seems to be. God, I hate romantics.
Ella let slip the other day why she’s coming when my best friend Maddie asked how long she’d be staying. I guess she hadn’t been planning on telling us, or at least me, by the way her eyes went wide the minute the words left her lips.
It all depends on how long it takes for her to find her soulmate, I guess.
I think I remember her, an image of a red head with a face full of freckles comes to mind, but maybe that’s just because the pictures I’ve seen of Ella in her twenties shows her looking just the same.
They used to visit every other year until Ella’s brother died; I think the last time they were here was seven years ago, which means Ella’s niece would have been fifteen, or so. I would have only just started at the shop, but back then, it was only really a shack on the beach.
“I’ll be sure to stop by once she’s adjusted,” Neil speaks again, but only when she hasn’t said anything. I’m not one hundred percent sure what he wanted to accomplish with this visit. But that’s his M.O. I guess, going around annoying people, spreading rumours and lies.
“Looking forward to it,” Ella says, and the sickly sweet fake smile on her face changes to a scowl the minute he’s left. “God, I hate that man,” she expresses running her hands through her hair, a stress tic we both share, then turns to me. “You're still sure you’ll be okay running the place tomorrow when I go to get Kat?”
“Yes, I’m sure. And Maddie will be here too, so we’ll be fine,” I say, reassuring her.
“Well, I’m sure she’ll be tired once she gets here, so I’ll take her home and I can swing by here to close up.” She sends a smile my way, and then is off doing the next job. That woman is always on the move.
I’m not too sure how she actually feels about Katherine coming here. I wonder if it’ll be like seeing a ghost of some kind. I think that’s how my dad used to look at me when my mum first left. Sometimes being around someone familiar that reminds them of another helps people, and sometimes it ruins them. I’m hoping Ella’s stronger than that .
It feels like Ella’s been in a bit of a slump for a few years now, we’ve all noticed it. I can only hope that having family around—having Katherine around—helps with that.
We all treat Ella like she’s part of ours, but I know it’s not always the same even with the life she’s made for herself. I wish I could help more but I know it’s not the same no matter how much you might want it to be.
I’ve made a new family with the people here, with Maddie, Ella, my friends. But I know it doesn't completely patch up the hole my mum left.
If Katherine is willing to fly twenty four hours to get here, she must be all kinds of strong—or maybe just crazy. I’m hoping it’s a little of both. I think the people round here could do with a little more of both.