by Laura Burton
Gross.
Toby looked over to see his buddies feasting on breakfast. Within minutes, half the muffins had been demolished and all of the bacon was gone. He smiled broadly, looking at them. All of them were younger than him, still in high school, but they belonged to Teddy’s surf club. Toby was the only one who qualified to compete in the world championships, which was already nerve-wracking, but the idea of his team watching him compete made him feel more confident. The doorbell rang again, this time it was Eddie and his dad. Eddie’s father, John, sat in a wheelchair and wore a black T-shirt with Toby’s face on it.
“Check it out,” Eddie said, pointing to his own identical shirt. Toby grinned.
“Good luck, Toby, we’re hoping you’re going to hit the ball out the park today!” John said with gumption, motioning his arms as he spoke.
“Thanks,” Toby replied as they entered the kitchen. The place felt crowded now, and Toby’s stomach lurched uncomfortably at the realization of what he was going to do.
“Toby, have you had anything to eat, yet? I’m making more bacon,” Jill called out between the heads of gelled hair blocking her from view.
“I’m okay. I’m not hungry….” Toby rubbed his stomach while cries of outrage filled the air.
“You need to eat, man.”
“You’ll have a wipe-out when your blood sugars dip.”
“If you’re not eating, can I have the rest of the bacon?”
The room exploded with laughter, and Eli, the smallest and youngest member of the group at seventeen-years-old, grinned happily.
“You need to eat something. Do you want me to make French toast? What do you prefer?” Jill asked quickly.
“I could eat French toast!” Piped up Eddie. John tapped his leg and gave him a reproachful look.
Toby looked down at his watch and swallowed against the lump in his throat. His arms tingled as panic rose within his body. “We don’t have a lot of time. I’ll just have a muffin.” He held up a blueberry muffin and gave an exaggerated smile.
Multiple conversations were going on at the same time and they merged into one constant noise, as writhing snakes moved around Toby’s middle and he tried to choke down the muffin in his dry mouth.
Earning the title of World Champion would be life-changing and the ultimate reward for the years of sacrifice and hard work he put into his sport. The prize money wouldn’t make much difference, having inherited his grandfather’s fortune and working on the holiday home business with his mother. The fame never meant much to him either; he just wanted to be recognized as the best surfer. Was it a shallow goal? Perhaps, but Toby didn’t care what others thought. To him, it meant he was truly good at something. The best, even. He would show the world that he was more than just the rich heir to his famous grandfather’s wealth. The world knew him as Elliott Jackson, but his mother insisted he separate his career from his private life, maintaining that it’d stop the fame from getting to his head and help him have a private family life when he settled down—not that he planned to. If he won the World Championship, a world tour would follow. I could even get my own TV show. Toby grinned at the thought.
“Okay, let’s pack up and go,” Jill said as she clapped her hands to stop everyone from talking. Toby grabbed a bottle of root beer and downed the drink in one.
“Okay,” Toby put the bottle down. The room grew quiet and everyone looked at him with anticipation. He gave a brave smile.
“Let’s do this.”
Toby pulled out his longboard from the back of the VW camper and scanned the faces on the beach for anyone he might recognize. Among the masses of spectators who had set up camp on the beach with colorful towels and umbrellas, a long line of strong and lean-looking men and women in their swim gear, each holding a board out like it was a fashion accessory stood in a long line.
A brass band played upbeat music and a rally of cheerleaders performed for the spectators. The sun was blazing hot, and the sand burned the bottom of Toby’s bare feet. He slipped on a pair of sandals and put a cap on his head to block out the sunlight.
“Teddy will help you get signed in,” Jill said in a low voice as she pulled out a couple of bags from the back of the van and closed the doors. “We’ll set up over there, and Eddie’s promised he’ll record you,” she added. Toby gave her a nod and faked a smile, but inside he was feeling the nerves more intensely than ever. His mom placed a hand on his cheek and smiled at him, her blue eyes matched the color of the sky and teared up as she looked at him.
“Be safe, you can do this,” she whispered. Toby nodded, as he tried to suppress nausea rising from his stomach.
“Does that look like a storm over there?” Eddie asked as he peered out at the horizon. A small patch of navy-blue clouds hovered farther afield.
“It’s nothing.” Toby shrugged as he clutched his board close to him. The board was white with blue stripes and sported Teddy’s club logo of a tiger on the top. He felt some comfort having a reminder of his support system with him on the waves. He looked out to see the tide was choppy. The conditions were not what he hoped for, but at least everyone in the championship would be having to deal with them too.
“All right, folks, let’s get the show on the road! Welcome to this year’s World Surf Championships!” A booming voice flooded the beach, and everyone looked at the short man speaking into a microphone on the stand.
“The officials have informed me that there are reports of a storm rolling in, but I have been assured by our weather watchers, that it shouldn’t be for another hour or so.” Toby glanced over at Eddie who raised his brows at him.
“Told you,” he murmured. Toby rubbed his temples as his ears ached against the shrill chanting of the cheerleaders amid the rumble of the band.
“We would like to welcome our participants. The competition is fierce today! I know everyone is stoked to be here, and I promise, it’s going to be a great day. Our judges are in position and ready, so now it’s over to our participants, starting with the current owner of the title, World Champion Arnold Whippet.” Loud cheers drowned out the music and Toby watched a tall, burly-looking Australian get to his feet. He dusted white sand off his shorts and smiled charmingly at the cheerleaders as he strolled to the water’s edge with his red board in his arm. He looked like a superhero with impossibly ripped muscles and wind-defying dark hair that glistened in the sunlight.
Toby watched Arnold’s performance on the waves with interest.
“Wow, did you see that? I thought he’d be taking donuts then, but he kicked out just in time!” Eddie exclaimed as they watched the Australian on the waves. He entered the barrel of the wave and kicked out, creating a fan spray as he did so. The spectators cheered and clapped as they watched. The Australian’s movements were seamless; he glided across the water with ease, as if he were part of the ocean. Toby took a deep breath and dragged a hand nervously through his hair. If he was going to beat this guy, he would need to something daring.
“That was sick, brah! Did you see what he did at the end?” Eddie clapped a hand on Toby’s back. The man on the stand cleared his throat into the microphone.
“Very nice work from Arnold Whippet, everyone. That’s going to be hard to beat,” he shouted above the cheers of the crowd. Toby watched the Australian surfer sweep his dark hair back with a hand, veins bulged out of his arm and his skin sparkled in the sunlight, drops of water clung to his body like jewels.
“Now, as the ocean takes a breath, we’ll see what our judges thought of that,” the commentator continued. The judges sat at a blue panel and held up their scorecards for all to see. More cheers flooded the air.
“Tough to beat, kiddo, tough to beat,” Teddy said with a whistle.
“Now, we’ve got California’s own champion ready to go. Prepare yourself for Elliott Jackson!” Screams of excitement erupted into the air and Toby’s arms and legs tingled in response. He shakily got to his feet and smiled at the crowds around him. This was it. He felt like he was having an out-o
f-body experience as he automatically marched over to the water, holding onto his surfboard like it was his life jacket. He turned and raised an arm to wave out at the crowds of people cheering and jumping on the beach, then stepped into the water.
The first thing Teddy taught Toby about surfing had nothing to do with the sport.
“The ocean is alive,” he said dramatically, “respect her, embrace her and never forget how volatile she can be.” Toby learned the wisdom in that. The waves rolled over in unpredictable ways, and the ocean had different moods. The sea was certainly Toby’s first love. He felt equally safe and threatened while in the water. Never sure if the entity would support him or drown him.
The cheering and music on the beach faded away and Toby’s ears were filled with the rushing sounds of the sea. He paddled out into the ocean trying to ignore the nausea rising from the pit of his stomach. As the waves crashed down and reformed, it was as though the sea was roaring a mystical cry only few could interpret. Toby licked the salty water off his lips and jumped fluidly to his legs, balancing on the board with his arms spread out. The board bobbed up and down as he sped across the water, and watched the rising wave curling back towards the beachfront. Instinctively bending his knees, he turned and entered the barrel of the wave. The water was frothy, and his board glided through the water with ease, like a master baker icing a cake. Huge sprays of water fanned out as Toby dipped his hand along the edge of the barrel of the wave, and he kicked back and turned to climb above it. He was on top of the world. The wind rippled through his hair as he moved at a greater speed and his nerves had blown away. The wave was at least twenty feet high, a little too high for comfort but Toby was determined to push the envelope and impress the judges. With a broad grin and his whole body braced, he jumped with his board off the top of the wave and landed on the water below. A rush of adrenaline coursed through his veins as Toby zig-zagged across the water and waited for another wave to build. Toby looked down and noticed a shadow cast across the water, darkening it from light blue to murky green. Undeterred, Toby eyed another wave and climbed it with ease. The water had more movement now, and the wind picked up.
“Yikes, this is getting gnarly,” he said to himself as he kicked out of the wave and it crashed down around him. Toby craned his neck back to the beach to look at the sea of faces looking in his direction. Had he done enough to impress the judges? As a wave came in, Toby took a deep breath and mounted the top. He straddled the wave, grinning ear to ear, then became aware of a thunderous roar through the wind. The wave grew larger and suddenly Toby was atop it, looking down fifty feet at the water below. A sense of foreboding washed over him as he bit his lip and braced to jump down and ride to the bottom of the wave. The sky was dark now, and the wind encircled Toby, filling his ears with a thunderous, never-ending roar. He leaned his weight on his front foot and tipped the board over the edge. For a moment, it appeared that he was going to make it; he was going to ride down the treacherous wave and tame the water beast. However, the back of the board jerked to the left and in one quick swoop, the board was gone and Toby fell like a scrambling insect headfirst into the watery depths below.
Chapter Twenty-One
Sleepwalking
Toby sat on the beach looking out at the still waters. Tiny stars twinkled like spotlights in the inky sky and the black sea barely moved beneath it. Toby sighed and grabbed fistfuls of sand, rubbing the grains into the palms of his hands with his fingertips. A sense of serenity overcame him and he closed his eyes inhaling the fresh sea air washing over him.
For a moment, he wondered why he was alone on the beach at night, but the worry floated away as quickly as it entered his mind. He tried to recall what brought him there: What had he been doing? He remembered being out on the water and it was daytime. Yet, his memories slipped between the cracks faster than he could piece them together, and within moments he had forgotten entirely what he was thinking about. A soft breeze floated over him and Toby smiled at the soothing sensation it stirred within. He felt an urge to take a deep breath and as he did so, he became light-headed. A rush of energy soared through his body and settled at his temples, tingling. Toby opened his eyes and rubbed his hands together; the sand fell like glitter to the ground as he got to his feet. He brushed his hands on his white shorts and looked around. The beach was entirely vacant, and the sand was smooth and hard underfoot. As he focused on the sounds around him, he heard the faint rumbling of traffic coming from the main road. Ignoring it, he walked along the coastline and lost himself in the moment. What time was it? He didn’t know, nor did he care to find out. The bright moon in the sky shone like a silver torchlight across the water. Toby walked for hours it seemed, lost in a world of serenity. One foot in front of the other, walking to a steady beat and breathing in the same rhythm as the ocean. It was odd he hadn’t come across anyone. Usually, groups of teenagers set up camp on the beach and partied all night, especially during the summer. Toby lost all sense of his surroundings, completely connected to the ground and the beach around him. He stopped suddenly and looked up, seeing his family home before him. How had he walked all the way home?
An overwhelming sense of fatigue flooded Toby. Entering the front door, he walked up the staircase to his room, then collapsed into the plush pillows on his bed with a grateful exhale as he closed his eyes.
Toby sat on his board, bobbing up and down on the water waiting for a wave to build. The sea air rushed over him and the burning sunlight warmed his skin. Toby looked around to find the beach was deserted; the white sandy floor spanned across the entire beachfront and stretched as far as the eye could see. Little beach huts sat in a pretty row with bright colored doors and wooden balconies lined the front. All the shops were closed for the day and the air was beginning to cool. Toby looked up and sighed as he gazed up at the sky to see the moon was out already and faintly glowed. The water shifted under the board alerting Toby to the formation of a huge wave rising above him. He jumped onto his feet and bent down as he entered the barrel of the wave. The water was smooth like glass and the board floated in place. The air was warm, and Toby swayed in the wind back and forth as if the ocean were breathing softly. It was oddly relaxing, and all sense of urgency left him. Why am I here? he briefly wondered. Where is everyone, am I supposed to be somewhere else? With a deep breath, he felt heaviness over his chest and a pain in his stomach grew stronger with every thought. Toby opened his eyes to see the sky, the ocean, and the beach moving at odd speeds around him. He was spinning and turning and moving at such a rapid rate that he was overcome with nausea, certain he was going to vomit. It only lasted a few moments, then the disorientation ended. Toby paddled back to the beach and held his board against his hip as he walked.
Time was not linear. The sun neither rose nor fell and Toby wandered along the beachfront endlessly, or so it seemed. Images flashed across his mind, including a past he did not remember, a constant sense of déjà vu invaded his thoughts. His memories were fragmented and the harder he tried to remember them, the more he forgot.
Eventually, Toby ventured back to his home again and stood in the hallway with his hands on his hips and legs apart, wondering what to do. A meow from near his feet alerted him to the arrival of Toffee, his childhood cat.
“Hey, you!” he exclaimed as he stooped down and picked up the small feline. Toffee purred and pressed his head against Toby’s neck as he cradled him.
“At least I’ve got you.” Toby breathed into the cat’s fur. The soft rumble of its purr tingled through his chest. It occurred to Toby that something—or someone—was missing. Didn’t I live with my mom? Before his brain could muster a reply, Toby jumped sending Toffee into flight in response. The cat meowed angrily and bolted out of the room, but Toby paid no attention. Instead, he leaned forward and peered into the dark glass of his front window. An equally dark figure stood at a window framed in the amber streetlight outside. Two black eyes looked back at him and the sight of the immobile figure sent shivers down his spine.
An agonizing pain ripped through his core and Toby bent over and cried out clutching his stomach with his hands. His heartbeat thumped in his ears and his mouth became impossibly dry as a rising pressure ascended from his stomach up through his chest and into his skull. Am I going to die? Then, as if the universe answered, all of the symptoms ceased and Toby stood upright, whole and painless once more.
The hallway grew darker and Toby blinked slowly in the dimly lit room. He desperately searched his mind for inspiration on what to do next. A nagging sense that all was not well plagued his mind for a time. Where is my mom? he thought to himself. Again, as if an invisible entity served to answer his questions, Toby’s vision blurred, and his surroundings transformed. He was no longer standing in his dark, vacant house; instead, the sun was high in the blue sky and he was outside a hospital. Glass doors opened in front of him and as if on autopilot, Toby walked through them. Walking along the corridors of the hospital felt like the natural thing to do; an inner sense of purpose grew within him and he trusted his gut. Looking around at the doctors and nurses rushing back and forth and a flickering light bulb hanging in the hallway was no cause for alarm. Everything appeared normal…. except for the flickering light bulb outside room 5E. Toby’s eyes stared at the yellow light; the constant flicker irritated him. Wasn’t any one going to change that? He balled his fists and marched forward. As he got closer he was drawn to the room on his right. He turned and peered through the large window of room 5E and his mouth fell open. The door swung open and a mature woman with thin wispy hair ran out of the room wailing, the door slammed shut behind her.
