Cut Back

by Todd Strasser

  Kai rubbed Spazzy’s head. “Catch you later, dude. And thanks again.”

  With the sky turning blue-gray, Kai, Shauna, Booger, and Bean went back over the dunes and started down the beach, preferring to walk back along the water. While Kai had been inside with Spazzy and Jillian, Bean had been explaining the Spanish Inquisition to Booger.

  “She’s not really gonna torture her own brother, is she?” Booger asked.

  “Of course not,” said Bean, “but one way or another she’s gonna find out that he’s been surfing without telling her. And that’s probably just as bad, because for Spazzy, not surfing is gonna be torture.”

  “What a you-know-what,” said Booger.

  “Wait,” said Shauna. “She threw that whole party for him. She can’t be that bad.”

  “I don’t think she’s bad at all,” said Bean. “She just feels super-responsible.”

  “She’s got to let the guy live,” said Kai.

  “See, that’s the key to the problem,” Bean said.

  “What do you mean?” Shauna asked.

  “It’s the Fourth of July,” Bean said. “The whole world is out at parties and sitting around bonfires and watching fireworks. What’s she doing?”

  “Reading a book,” said Booger.

  “Exactly. So sure, we all know she’s got to let Spazzy live,” said Bean. “But first someone has to show her how to get a life.”

  They passed half a dozen bonfires and dozens of groups of people sitting on the beach, watching the fires and fireworks. In the distance one fire burned more brightly than any other.

  “Bet a quarter that’s Lucas’s fire,” Bean said. “Any takers?”

  No one took him up on the bet. Fireworks were going off constantly now, like small arms fire in some war, with larger artillery shells now and then tossed in. The sky crackled and glittered with bottle rockets and roman candles. The red-hot embers rising above the bonfires added to the show.

  By the time they reached Screamers, Lucas’s bonfire rose up in front of them like a flaming volcano. There were probably three dozen people around the fire, enjoying a full-blown party. Kai spied Buzzy filling a red plastic cup from a keg. Near him Dave McAllister handed out rockets and cherry bombs from a suitcase stuffed with fireworks.

  “I didn’t think fireworks were legal in this state,” Kai said as they passed behind the fire and the party.

  “They’re not,” Bean said. “Except when you’re Buzzy Frank and it’s the Fourth of July.”

  Bang! A loud explosion went off a few feet from them. Kai and everyone else jumped.

  “You think someone threw it at us?” Booger asked once they’d calmed down.

  “Maybe,” said Kai. “But it could have been an accident.”

  They stopped at Bean’s pyre, still dark and unlit. Bean kneeled in the sand and took a box of matches out of his pocket. “Let us all now pray to Kahuna, the great god of surf. That he may provide us with big beautiful swells, steady offshore breezes, freedom from harm or surf-related injury, and peace among all surfers.”

  He reached into the pile of wood and pulled out a plastic bottle of isopropyl rubbing alcohol. Fires near the water were often hard to start because of the dampness, but newspaper, twigs, and an old rag drenched in alcohol usually did the trick. Bean poured out the alcohol and lit a match. Ignited by rags and newspapers at the base of the pile, the fire began inside the stack of wood.

  Bean backed away and sat with Kai, Booger, and Shauna on the sand, expecting to watch the fire grow inside the pile of wood and eventually envelope it.

  Ka-boom!

  Thirty-four

  Kai remembered the flash of bright white light inside the pile of wood, and the explosion—probably the loudest sound to ever strike his ears. He remembered being knocked backward to the sand, and the sharp clatter of wood falling onto wood. And then, through the ringing in his ears, he heard the sound of laughter. He opened his eyes and saw the silhouettes of a crowd backlit by Lucas’s bonfire. They were the ones who were laughing. Still trembling with surprise, Kai looked around to make sure Bean, Booger, and Shauna were okay. Like him, they were all in the process of pushing themselves up from the sand. They looked stunned and wide eyed, but okay. After the explosion the pile of wood had collapsed in on itself, snuffing out the fire.

  Even though Kai wanted to get up right away, he stayed down for a few moments, gathering his thoughts and waiting for the shaking to stop. By now he knew what had happened. Someone had stuck something inside the pile of wood. He rose to his feet. Bean and Booger were also starting to stand. Shauna was still sitting, her knees pulled under her chin, her hands over her face. She was crying.

  Kai reached down and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.” He helped her up. She was also trembling from the shock and surprise.

  “Probably two or three M-eighties bundled together,” Bean was saying.

  “Someone could’ve gotten hurt,” said Booger, his voice shaky.

  “They probably figured the wood would contain most of the blast,” Bean said.

  Shauna was on her feet now, sniffing and quivering, but not really crying anymore.

  “You okay?” Kai asked her.

  She nodded.

  Kai led her toward Bean in a way that meant he wanted him to take her. Then Kai started toward the crowd at Lucas’s fire.

  Most of them had laughed at first, but had now gone quiet. Not because Kai was approaching them, but because they’d seen the shocked looks on Bean’s and Booger’s faces, and heard Shauna’s sobs.

  Buzzy Frank stepped out of the crowd to face him. Kai stopped. He could feel the pulse in his forehead pounding. The sudden burst of adrenaline from the blast was still throbbing through his veins.

  “It was a joke,” Buzzy Frank said with a forced grin.

  “It wasn’t funny,” said Kai.

  “Hey, welcome to Sun Haven.” Buzzy Frank actually extended his hand as if to shake.

  Kai stared at the man’s hand and then at the man himself. “I said, it wasn’t funny.”

  The grin left Buzzy’s face. Kai waited for him to say something, but Lucas’s father was silent.

  Finally Kai turned and walked away.

  He caught up to the others on the board-walk. Bean had left the hearse in the parking lot. By the time Kai reached Bean’s car, Shauna, Booger, and Bean were all inside. Kai leaned into the passenger-seat window, where Shauna was sitting.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes, thanks. It just caught me by surprise,” she said.

  “Join the club,” Kai said.

  “What’d Buzzy say?” Booger asked.

  “That it was just a joke,” Kai answered.

  Bean snorted. “Some joke. So, you want a ride back to the Driftwood?”

  “No, thanks, I’ll walk” Kai said. “Catch you guys in the morning?”

  “If my ears ever stop ringing,” Bean said.

  Kai tapped the roof of the hearse and backed away. His friends waved as Bean pulled out and drove into the night.

  Kai walked back to the beach. The bonfires were quietly burning now, and the barrage of fireworks had slowed. A lot of people were leaving the beach, and he recognized Everett and Jade walking toward him.

  Kai stopped.

  “Hey.” Everett shoved his hands into his pockets and stared down at the sand. Jade crossed her arms in front of her.

  “Dude, I’m sorry about that,” Everett said.

  “Me too,” said Jade.

  “It’s not like it was your fault,” Kai said.

  “Still,” Jade said.

  “It was incredibly stupid,” said Everett.

  Bang! A firecracker went off a dozen yards away. It was far enough that it didn’t catch any of them by surprise. But just the same, it was a reminder.

  “Well, see you around.” Everett headed up the beach. Jade remained behind with Kai.

  “Haven’t seen much of you lately,” she said.

  “Been busy,”
Kai said. “Nothing personal.”

  “It’s not that girl who was with you tonight, is it?” Jade asked.

  Kai shook his head.

  “I see her around you a lot.”

  “I sort of taught her a little about surfing and lent her my board.”

  “Then you must like her,” Jade said.

  “She’s a good kid.”

  Jade raised an eyebrow. “And what am I?”

  “Superfine,” Kai said.

  “Does that mean we’re leaving the beach together?”

  It was incredibly tempting, but Kai shook his head. “I’d like to, but I can’t. Not tonight.”

  Jade stepped close and pressed her lips near his ear. His nose filled with the scent of her perfume. “Don’t make me wait too long,” she whispered, then nipped him on the earlobe.

  Thirty-five

  Kai walked along the back edge of the beach where it started to rise toward the dunes. Ahead in the moonlight he saw someone coming slowly up the beach from the water, limping slightly. It was Curtis wearing a pair of dripping trunks with a towel draped over his shoulder. His wet salt-and-pepper hair was plastered down on his head. Kai stopped near the walkway and waited for him.

  “That you, grom?” Curtis asked in the dark.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to swim at night because of sharks,” Kai said.

  “About the only sharks you ever see around here are sand sharks,” Curtis replied. “Hell, I’ve probably got more teeth than they do. Besides, any shark takes a bite out of me, he’s liable to be given a breathalyzer test.”

  “Last I knew, sharks don’t breathe,” Kai pointed out.

  “Then a gill-a-lyzer test, or whatever the hell it is they do.” Curtis looked back at the ocean. “You have a good Fourth?”

  “Pretty good.” Kai considered telling Curtis what Buzzy had done, then decided against it. It wasn’t as if he’d be telling Curtis anything about Lucas’s father that he didn’t already know.

  “Nice night, huh?” the older man said.

  Kai looked at the dark water. It was as flat and smooth as he’d ever seen it, the twinkle of the stars reflecting individually off the surface, the moonlight forming a glittering highway to the horizon.

  “Guess there won’t be much surf for the next few days,” Kai said.

  “Au contraire, grom. Tomorrow morning it’ll be perfect. A little small for my tastes, but you and your friends will like it.”

  Kai looked again at the flatness of the water, the total lack of a breeze. “I think you’ve had too much to drink, old man.”

  “You’ll see,” Curtis said.

  They followed the path through the dunes to the back of the Driftwood. Instead of going into the motel, Curtis wrapped the towel around his shoulders and sat down in one of the beat-up beach chairs. He turned it so he was looking up at the moon. “Got time for a beer, grom?”

  Thanks to the adrenaline still racing through him, Kai wasn’t at all sleepy. “Sure.”

  “Should be a couple in the fridge.”

  Kai went around to the office and through the back door into Curtis’s apartment. As usual the place was a mess. Kai could smell the slightly rotted scent of garbage before he set foot in the kitchen. The sink was filled with dirty dishes, the counter covered with empty frozen pizza and chicken pot pie boxes. Kai opened the refrigerator, found two Coronas, and headed back outside.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing one of the bottles to Curtis and sitting down gently in an ancient beach chair.

  “Thanks, grom.” Curtis took a pull on the bottle. “Always take time to look at the moon. No matter where you are. Gives you a sense of perspective.”

  “How’s that?” Kai asked.

  “They say that son of a bitch is four point six billion years old. How old are you, grom?”

  “Fifteen,” Kai said.

  “Like I said, kind of puts things in perspective,” Curtis said.

  “What perspective’s that?”

  “How the hell do I know?” Curtis grumbled. “It just does, is all. Damn, you ask too many questions, grom. Can’t you see it interferes with me trying to play the role of the wise old surfing curmudgeon?”

  “Was it different being a professional surfer back when you did it?” Kai asked.

  “Oh, yeah,” Curtis said. “Nothing like it is today. There was no prize money to speak of. Mostly it was sponsorships and photo shoots for magazines. If you figured in the hours we spent traveling and lugging our crap around, we would have been better off working in some factory making minimum wage.”

  “But you weren’t doing it for money,” Kai said.

  “That’s for damn sure. It was the adventure, the women, the glory, and an intense distaste for any kind of life that involved wearing a tie, punching a clock, and having a boss.”

  “So you wish you hadn’t stopped?” Kai asked.

  “Hell, yes, but my body got worn out. How long you think you can go partying all the time, drinking, not sleeping, then spending days in the water getting smashed onto reefs, then getting on airplanes, eatin’ all kinds of crappy food, and doin’ it all over again? Sooner or later your body says, ‘The hell with this, boss, give me a break.’ Of course, you can’t stop. Can’t skip the next contest. Because then you won’t be in the magazines the next month and your sponsor’ll be all over your sorry butt, asking what the hell they’re paying for if you’re not in the magazines where all the groms and grems and poseurs can see you. So you keep going and you get ground down in the rankings, and these new young hotshots come up, and they’ve got fresh bodies and fresh stoke and they haven’t been dragged across too many reefs yet. Haven’t bit it hard at Pipe or got a leash wrapped around some coral head and nearly drowned.”

  “How do you stop?” Kai asked.

  “Usually with a prolonged stay in a hospital,” Curtis said. “Multiple fractures, staph infection, food poisoning, or just plain exhaustion. Take your pick.”

  “And that’s it, huh?” Kai said.

  “Hell, no. No one gives up the glory and the babes that fast. You take the time to heal and rest up. You stop partying and start exercising and eat right. You get that maturity, that ‘Old-man-of-the-tour’ crap. But now you got new problems you never had before. First, being sensible and mature ain’t sexy, and it don’t sell shoes and sunglasses, so you start to lose your sponsors. And second, now you got something you never had before—pure, unadulterated, uncompromising fear.”

  “Of getting hurt again?”

  “Of everything, grom. Of getting hurt again, of getting knocked so low in the rankings you don’t get invited to the big events, of losing the girls to the new hotshots, of being ignored by the magazines. Basically you’ve learned something you didn’t know before—that the party don’t go on forever, and the day’s coming when you won’t get invited anymore.”

  “But what you’re really saying is the competition’s not so bad,” Kai said.

  “No, it’s not so bad,” Curtis said. “In fact, it’s a lot of fun. You just gotta understand its limitations. It ain’t the magic bullet. It might change your life for a little while, but unless you’re a fricken six-time world champion like Kelly Slater, it ain’t gonna change it forever.” Curtis swiveled his head and looked at Kai. “You still trying to make up your mind about that Fairport contest?”

  Kai nodded. “Lucas has pretty much dared me to enter.”

  “That alone’s a good reason not to, if you ask me,” Curtis said.

  “Except that it could shut him up once and for all,” Kai said.

  Curtis shrugged. “Then do it.”

  Thirty-six

  The next morning at seven forty-five Kai stood on the second-floor balcony of the Driftwood Motel and stared at the waves in amazement. Curtis’s prediction had come true. The sets were only medium size, but they were perfect. The sea looked like blue-green corduroy, like a photo from a magazine. Kai yawned. On any other morning he would have gone back to bed. But not this mor
ning.

  He carried Spazzy’s wet suit and board over the dunes. It was close to 8 A.M., nearly two hours later than Kai usually got down to the beach. The sun was already well into its daily journey and the air was starting to feel hot. For the first time, he didn’t wear a wet suit. Instead he wore the trunks Spazzy had given him and a T-shirt. One way or another he’d try to scrape together the money for a rash guard, but for now that could wait.

  Lucas, Buzzy, and Everett were down near the tide mark. Lucas and Buzzy were kneeling over a board while Everett opened a tripod and set a small silver camcorder on it. Buzzy and Lucas briefly glanced in Kai’s direction, then back down at Lucas’s board. They’d turned it on its deck and were hunched over the fins. Kai kept his distance. He couldn’t be certain of what they were doing, but he had a feeling he knew.

  It was an old surf competition trick, especially among groins who couldn’t really do spectacular moves and had to rely on big spray to wow the judges. You balled surf wax up into little beads and “dimpled” the fins. For some reason only a theoretical physicist could probably explain, it seemed to increase the amount of spray you got during a snap.

  As for Everett, it was obvious that he was there to record, not surf. Kai got on his board and paddled out. It felt strangely easy without a wet suit on. The waves were smooth, with just a trace of ripple from a slight easterly breeze. Screamers was going off like perfection. As Kai paddled out and looked up into the cresting waves, he saw a school of medium-size fish outlined in the green water like a painting.

  Lucas and Buzzy paddled out. This morning there were no nods. No indication of recognition. With his father coaching, Lucas worked on snaps, trying to get more and bigger spray. After a few rides, they’d go in and review Lucas’s rides on the camcorder, then come back out. Kai caught waves at will. It was one of those rare mornings when the waves were ripping, but oddly easy to paddle into and catch at the same time.

  After a while Bean showed up and paddled out.

  “Hey.” Bean’s eyes had bags under them, and even out in the water on his surfboard he only appeared half awake.