Dawn and the Surfer Ghost

by Ann M. Martin

  “Oh, no!” I sat bolt upright in bed that morning, staring at the clock. I was going to have to hustle if I wanted to arrive at the beach on time. I checked the alarm, sure something was wrong with it. Why hadn’t it gone off? I was positive I had set it when I went to bed the night before. Then my glance fell on a pink sheet of paper Buck had handed me the day before, after my last lesson. “Preparation for Competition,” it said at the top. It listed the things you should do before a contest, and at the top of the list was, “Be sure to get plenty of rest the night before you compete.” Well, I had definitely done that!

  I jumped up and started to gather my stuff together. As I was throwing things into my beach bag, I heard a soft knock on the door. “Sunshine?” asked Dad, coming into my room. “Feeling okay? Ready to show the judges your stuff?”

  I grinned. “As ready as I’ll ever be. That is, if I can get there on time.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “I’ll get you there. Carol arrived ten minutes ago, and she and Jeff are ready to head out whenever you are.” He gave me a big hug. “We’re so excited about watching you compete,” he said.

  “Oh, Dad. Really, I’m not very good yet. I hope you’re not expecting too much.”

  He just hugged me again. “Come on down when you’re ready,” he said.

  When I got downstairs, they were waiting for me: Dad, Carol, and Jeff. “Let’s go!” I said.

  Carol handed me a bagel from the breakfast table. “You can’t compete on an empty stomach,” she said with a smile.

  “Thanks,” I replied, thinking that Carol had been pretty easy to get along with lately. She was right, too. “Make sure to eat something” was the second item on Buck’s list. I didn’t feel hungry at all — I was jittery and excited. But I took a bite of the bagel anyway, and brought it and an orange with me to the car.

  We piled in, Jeff sitting beside me in the back seat, and soon we were on our way. As we drove, Dad kept up a steady stream of talk about what a perfect day it was for the contest, and how crowded the beach would be for the big event. I just sat, looking out the window, thinking over everything I had learned from Buck. I thought about how to choose the right wave, and how to sense the moment to climb up and ride it. I reviewed my best rides, picturing the things I had done right. “Positive visualization,” Buck calls it. He says the pros do it. In the middle of one of my “rides,” I felt Jeff’s elbow digging into my side.

  “This is for you,” he said. “For today. I’m lending it to you, for good luck.” He handed me a penny. “I found it in school one day,” he said. “And I kept it. It’s a lucky penny.”

  “Thanks, Jeff,” I said, putting my arm around him and giving him a squeeze. “I’ll put it in my wetsuit pocket.” I tucked it away. Then I looked out the window again. We were nearing the beach, and I started to think about Thrash, wondering what he would do about competing. He had told me, at the end of our talk, that he was going to go to the police and tell them everything he knew about the guy who had tampered with his board. I was glad, since that was the plan I had come up with. But beyond that, I had no idea what he was doing. For all I knew, he wouldn’t show up at the competition. The police might even have put him in jail when he confessed to trying to tamper with the guy’s board. Or maybe they had just told him to clear out, leave town. I might never see Thrash again.

  Still, I was betting that he would turn up at the competition. Thrash loved being the best surfer on the beach. I didn’t think he’d pass up the opportunity to prove it to everyone.

  “Wow, it’s a mob scene!” said Jeff, when we arrived at the beach. “Everybody’s here.”

  He was right. The beach was packed with surfers, fans, and judges. Everybody was milling around, waiting for the contest to begin. The waves looked great — smooth and glassy and not too big. That was a relief. I had been worried about having to deal with huge grinders or choppy seas.

  “We’ll find a spot to sit, Sunshine,” said my dad. “Want to leave your stuff with us?”

  “I’ll take it with me,” I said. I was eager to join the group of surfers who were gathering near the judges’ stand. “See you later!”

  Everyone wished me luck, and I headed toward the group. On the way, I ran into Sunny, who had come to watch the contest even though she couldn’t participate. “Good luck!” she said. “And have fun. I’ll see you afterward, okay?”

  I pointed her in the direction of Dad and Carol and Jeff, and she said she would join them. Then I ran to the judges’ stand to check in. As I was giving my name, I heard a murmur run through the crowd of surfers. I looked up just in time to see Thrash stroll to the stand.

  He was blond again — I guess he had dyed his hair back — and he was wearing his earrings and the snake ring. He looked as much like his old self as he possibly could. He was even carrying a surfboard like his old one, with black designs on a purple background. I heard a few gasps as he walked through the crowd.

  “I’m back from the dead,” he announced, with a cocky grin. “And ready to rock and roll.”

  I heard a strangled scream from behind me, and I turned to see Gonzo drop his surfboard in the sand. Gonzo. I should have known. He had turned completely pale, and he was staring at Thrash as if he were seeing — you guessed it — a ghost. Then he turned, and ran down the beach.

  “That’s him!” yelled Thrash. “Get him!”

  Suddenly, a bunch of men in the crowd, men I hadn’t recognized, took off down the beach after Gonzo. They were dressed like surfers, but as soon as they started to chase the guy, I knew — I just knew — they were undercover cops.

  Sure enough, after they had caught up with Gonzo they pulled badges out of the pockets of their jams. Gonzo immediately confessed to messing with Thrash’s board, and the cops took him away. It turned out that the police had talked Thrash into working with them, which was exactly what I had hoped they would do. I knew if he felt the cops were on his side, he would be more likely to enter the competition honestly.

  It took awhile for things to calm down, but before long the judges were announcing the start of the competition. The first group to compete would be the beginners. That was me. Suddenly, I felt like running back to Dad and climbing into his lap.

  “Go for it, Kelea,” said Thrash from behind me. “You can do it.”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”

  The male beginners went first. I watched as one after another of them chose bad waves and wiped out, or took short, unimpressive rides. I started to feel a little better. I might be a beginner, but I was sure I could do better than that. I watched the waves carefully, trying to decide which ones I would pick if I were out there.

  Finally, the men’s division finished and the women’s began. There were five of us. We paddled out and began to eye the waves more closely. I was supposed to go second. My stomach was in a knot, but I could also feel a certain kind of energy that I knew would help me through my rides.

  Contest scoring is based on a lot of things. The length of the ride, for one. The longer you can ride, the more moves you can catch, and the better you look. Another factor is maneuvers, or moves. The judges watch to see how smoothly you do certain things, and whether you take chances on exciting, radical moves. You also get judged on style, and on how well you choose your waves.

  As I waited my turn, I tried again to visualize the perfect ride. When the first surfer finished her ride (a very short one), I waited patiently until a wave I liked came along. Then I rode it in, trying hard to remember everything Buck had told me. It wasn’t a bad ride.

  Each of us in the division took three turns. My second ride was terrible: I wiped out almost directly in front of the judges’ stand. But I stood up and shook the water out of my hair and paddled back out. My third ride was one of the best I’ve ever had.

  After my division was finished, all I could do was watch the other surfers and wait to find out the results. The judges wouldn’t announce the winners until the
entire competition was over, and at first I didn’t know how I could stand the wait. But before long the expert division was up, and I got involved watching the really good surfers do their stuff. Spanky had turned up at the last minute, so the competition was fierce. Wanda, wearing a wild purple wetsuit, looked great in the women’s division.

  Boy, did those surfers have some radical moves. They carved up the waves, making turns that looked impossible. And Thrash was obviously better than anyone. My respect for him grew as I watched him. He was calm and in control, and he looked completely happy out there in the surf.

  At the end of the day, a huge group of very tired surfers gathered around the judges’ table to hear the results. Dad, Carol, Jeff, and Sunny had joined me, and I think they were even more nervous than I was about who would win in the women’s beginners division.

  The judges announced the men’s beginners first. Then it was time for my division. “First prize,” said one of the judges, “goes to Katie Bear.” Sunny glanced at me with sympathy, but I shrugged. No way had I expected to win any prize, much less first. But guess what? I won third! And let me tell you, walking up there to accept that yellow ribbon was one of the proudest moments of my life.

  There was no doubt in my mind — or anyone’s probably — that Thrash would win the overall prize for best surfer. And sure enough, he did. He didn’t get a ribbon, though. Instead, he got a big fat check. He held it up and waved it over his head. “See you all Down Under!” he shouted, grinning. He gave me a special wink, and I winked back.

  What a day. I was exhausted — and starving. That night, Dad took us out to dinner at my favorite vegetarian restaurant. I ate all of my dinner and some of Sunny’s, too. Later, as we were driving home, I returned Jeff’s lucky penny. “Thanks a lot,” I said. “It definitely worked!”

  I figured it was safe to write my mom, now that the mystery had been solved and the contest was over. If I had sent her the kinds of bulletins I’d been sending to my friends over the past few weeks, she would have been worrying her head off. I would probably never tell her all the details of the mystery, but now I could share some of it with her.

  Life was pretty much back to normal. I was studying hard for a math test at school. Sunny and I were still busy with the beach program. She was surfing again, carefully, and I surfed with her. I was kind of relieved that the competition was over, so we could just surf for fun and not worry about practicing.

  I hadn’t seen Thrash since the contest, and I figured he had already left for Australia. And of course, nobody had seen the surfer ghost since the contest. As I said, life was back to normal.

  On Friday evening, the kids at the beach program put on their play. Stephie and I sat in the audience and applauded wildly for the actors. The parents loved the play, and the kids seemed to have a great time acting it out, especially Erick, who made a terrific Mad Hatter. Alyssa and Sondra had done a great job with the script and the costumes, and Sunny’s sets were perfect.

  The following day, I was finishing up at the beach program when I spotted a familiar figure walking along the beach with a surfboard. Thrash. He was still around, after all. I waved to him, and he waved back. Then, to my surprise, he ran to me. “Hey, Kelea,” he said. “Congratulations! You did really well in the competition.”

  “So did you,” I said. “You were awesome.”

  “Thanks. And, hey — thanks for your help. I was definitely on the wrong track, messing with that guy’s board. You set me straight. I wouldn’t let too many people talk to me the way you did, but I’m glad you were there.”

  I smiled. “Wasn’t it better to win fair and square?”

  He laughed. “Definitely.”

  “So, I thought you were headed for Australia,” I said.

  “I am. I’m leaving tomorrow. In a few days, I’ll be hitting the surf Down Under. Maybe you’ll get there, too, someday. You’d like it, Kelea.” He smiled at me. “You know, I’m kind of a loner. I’ve never been used to having friends. But I think you were my friend, and I think I learned something from that. I wanted to thank you.” He paused. Then he did something that really surprised me. He pulled the snake ring off his finger and handed it to me. “I want you to have this, to remember me by.” He tossed it to me.

  “Wow!” I said. The ring felt heavy in my hand. I tried it on, but it was much too big for any of my fingers. “I’ll put it on a chain and wear it around my neck,” I said. “Thanks, Thrash. I won’t forget you.”

  “Cool,” he said. “Well — later!” He turned and trotted off. I watched him go, knowing I would never again meet anyone quite like him.

  That night at home, I found a chain to put the ring on. Standing in front of the mirror, I hung the chain around my neck. The ring looked special and mysterious, and I knew I would treasure it.

  On Monday I came straight home from school and headed for the phone. I dialed Claudia’s number, knowing it was a meeting day, and my friends would be gathered in her room.

  “Baby-sitters Club!” said Kristy, answering the phone.

  “Hello,” I said, trying to sound ultra grown-up. “This is Mrs. Heidendorferman. I’d like to arrange for a sitter for my triplets, Larry, Moe, and Curly.”

  “Hi, Dawn,” said Kristy, cracking up. It’s hard to fool her, but it’s easy to make her laugh.

  “How are you guys?” I said. “You can’t believe how much I miss you!”

  “We’re fine, and we miss you, too. The meeting’s just breaking up, so you can talk to everybody, if you want.”

  “I want, I want,” I said. Dad had agreed to let me make this phone call after I had promised to do some extra chores. I was determined to get my money’s worth.

  “Congratulations on solving that mystery,” said Kristy. “And double congratulations on winning the contest. We knew you could do it!”

  I heard clapping in the background, and my friends’ voices calling, “Yay, Dawn!”

  “So,” said Kristy. “How’s the We Love Kids Club? Is business good?”

  “Very good,” I said. I told her about a picnic we were planning.

  In the background, I heard Claudia say, “Kristy, come on! Let us talk to her.”

  “Did you hear that?” Kristy asked. “I guess I better pass the phone around. See you!”

  Stacey grabbed the phone next. “Hi, Dawn!” she said. “So tell me, was this guy Thrash cute or what?”

  “He was cute, I guess. But he wasn’t really my type. Too old, for one thing.” Stacey is so boy-crazy sometimes. “But there are a lot of cute guys on the beach,” I added. “And they all ask about you. They say, ‘Hey, where’s that friend of yours from Connecticut?’ ”

  “They do not,” said Stacey, giggling. “How would anybody remember me?”

  “Just kidding,” I said. “Too bad you couldn’t be in the contest, Stace. I bet you would have won something.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said. “But we sure are proud that you did. Anyway, I better go. Claud’s about to tear the phone out of my hand!” I heard a shriek, and then Claudia was on the line.

  I talked to her for a couple of minutes, and then the phone was passed to Shannon, and then to Jessi. It was so great to hear their voices. I asked Jessi how Mal was doing, and she said she thought it wouldn’t be too long before she was back to normal.

  Finally, Mary Anne got on the phone. “Hi, sis!” she said. “How’s the California ghost-buster?”

  “I’m great! How are you? How’s Tigger? How’s Logan?”

  “Everybody’s fine. Your mom hung the ribbon you won over the fireplace. She’s so proud of you.”

  “What else is going on?” I asked. I was hungry for news from Stoneybrook.

  “Not much. Just the same old stuff, I guess.”

  I heard somebody shout in the background, “Tell her about the Arnold twins!”

  Mary Anne laughed. “Did you hear that?” she asked. “I can’t believe nobody told you yet.”

  “What happened?” I asked. “Ar
e they still sticking together like glue?”

  “Not exactly,” said Mary Anne. “Get this: They had a big fight, and now they aren’t speaking to each other!”

  I cracked up. “After all that,” I said. “What was the fight about?”

  “Neither of them even remembers. But they each swear the other one started it.”

  “Of course,” I said. Just then, Dad came into the room, pointed at his watch, and raised his eyebrows. “Um, Mary Anne,” I said. “I guess I have to go. Dad’s giving me the signal.”

  “Okay,” she said. It was great to talk to you. I miss you, sis!”

  “I miss you, too. You and everyone in the BSC. But I’ll be back in a few months.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Neither can I,” I said, feeling a little sad all of a sudden. It was hard to be so far away from my friends and my stepsister. “ ’Bye!”

  After I hung up, I puttered around my room for a while, thinking. I smiled to myself when I remembered what Mary Anne had told me about Marilyn and Carolyn. I knew they wouldn’t stay angry at each other for long. They were too close. After all, they’re best friends as well as twins.

  I glanced down at the ring Thrash had given me. It hung on the chain around my neck, reminding me of him. I hoped Thrash would have a best friend one day, so he could find out how great friendship can be.

  Friendship. There’s nothing like it. Getting to know a loner like Thrash had made me even more grateful for the friends I have, both in Stoneybrook and in California. They are friends I will always have, no matter where I live. That makes me one lucky person!

  The author gratefully acknowledges