Gnarly

by Mickie B. Ashling

  As if he could read Ed’s mind, Javi asked, “What about Iker? Is he next?”

  Ed wriggled his way from underneath Javi, who hadn’t moved since he collapsed on Ed’s back. When he got free, he turned Javi over, carefully removed the condom, and tossed it in the general direction of their wastebasket.

  He gathered Javi in his arms, and they snuggled for a long time before Ed answered his question.

  “Not yet.”

  “What?” Javi asked, already half asleep.

  “Iker’s going to have to wait.”

  “Hopefully not thirty years,” Javi said wryly. “Give the poor guy a break.”

  Ed kissed him. “Aren’t you interested in hoarding this special moment between us?”

  “I was your first, and that’s the most meaningful,” Javi said. “Since we’re sharing everything with Iker, you shouldn’t deprive him of this experience.”

  “Your generous spirit is always so surprising.”

  “He’s a good guy.”

  “I know,” Ed said. “And I’ll take that into consideration. And speaking of Iker. What in hell is he going to do now that the lifeguarding thing is over?”

  “He can work with me at the bar. Aita is slowing down, and a man his age should retire, sit in the sun, and play chess in the park. He has no business slaving away seven days a week.”

  “Jesus,” Ed exclaimed. “Doesn’t he ever take a day off?”

  “No.”

  “Will you run it by him?” Ed asked.

  “Shouldn’t we ask Iker first?”

  “I’m pretty sure he’ll jump at any chance to earn a living.”

  “I don’t understand how a successful pelotari is in such dire straits.”

  “He’s got a nice savings account, from what I understand, but he refuses to touch a cent until he can invest in something for his future.”

  “Like a surf shop?”

  “It was his idea. As soon as I get back to Chicago, I’ll hire someone to work up a business plan. See if it’s actually feasible. I should have some answers when I return in January.”

  Javi snuggled in closer. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “Same here.”

  “I’m glad Iker’s going to stick around,” Javi admitted. “I’d hate to lose you both.”

  “You haven’t lost me, babe. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “If you’re not here on December thirty-first like you promised, I’ll get on a plane the very next day and raise holy hell in Chicago. Do you understand?”

  “You don’t have to threaten me,” Ed said mildly. “I intend to keep my promise.”

  “See that you do, or you’re going to see one pissed-off Basque on your doorstep.”

  “I swear. Now, shut up and go to sleep.”

  WHEN THEY woke the next morning, the sun was shining, and temps were comfortably high according to the thermometer Javi kept by his window.

  “Let’s go to the beach,” Ed suggested. “It’s Iker’s last day.”

  “Sure,” Javi agreed.

  “Use your swimming prosthesis,” Ed said.

  Javi squinted, always a dangerous sign. The last time Ed had been subjected to such a look was the day he’d presented Javi with the extra prosthesis he’d ordered. When he explained his philosophy on the importance of having a spare, the anger diminished slightly, but it surged the minute Ed showed him the unfamiliar prosthesis that would be more useful to a swimmer.

  “I’ve told you a hundred times I’m not getting back in the water!”

  Ed shrugged, prepared for this response. “Why not have it handy in case you change your mind? The worst thing would be to get the urge to swim and have to wait ten days to have one special ordered. It’s like holding off on fucking, and then when you’re finally ready, you discover you’re out of condoms.”

  “You think too much!” Javi snapped.

  “So you’ve said,” Ed remarked. “Are you going to punish me for being anal-retentive?”

  Javi had screamed in frustration but allowed Ed to put the prosthesis away instead of returning it.

  Today, he continued to look at Ed like he was his enemy.

  “I’m not asking you to get on a surfboard, Javi. All I’m saying is that it’s a beautiful sunny day. Probably the last chance we’ll have to go for a dip before I leave and the weather tanks. Won’t you at least sit on the shore with me and let the waves caress you for a bit?”

  Javi sucked in enough air to blow up a tire. When he released it ever so slowly, he’d calmed down enough to sound almost normal.

  “Help me put it on.”

  Ed moved closer and draped his arms around Javi’s neck. They pressed foreheads and stayed like that a few minutes. After they broke apart, Ed said, “Thank you.”

  Javi looked frail and nervous, a far cry from the self-assured lover who’d fucked him into the mattress last night. Ed felt a slight pang of remorse and almost told Javi to forget it, but in the end he stood his ground. He knew this insurmountable obstacle had to be breached if Javi wanted even a small semblance of his old life.

  Chapter 22

  JAVI STOOD at the top of the stairs leading from the promenade to the beach. He was wearing board shorts, a cutoff T-shirt, and lightweight aqua shoes to protect his new swimmer’s prosthesis. Designed to be water, salt, and contamination proof, the artificial foot was flat and better suited for walking on the sand. Ed had assured Javi that this particular prosthesis was specifically designed for swimming. He’d ordered a very basic model, but if swimming were to become a regular activity, and he hoped it would, they could upgrade. Some models even had fins. In theory it sounded fantastic, and Javi’s childhood fantasy of being a merman came to mind as he envisioned doing laps with a fishlike appendage attached to one leg.

  He knew he could get in the water without an artificial foot, but a swim prosthesis would provide balance through even weight distribution. Javi had been advised that without one, a swimmer with a unilateral amputation might find that his body would drift or pull toward the side of the sound leg. Plus, wearing a prosthesis would avoid the problem of entering and exiting the water in two different places. The last thing Javi wanted was to crawl or hop toward the area where he’d left his gear. He was also informed that a prosthesis would add power to his swimming strokes. When using a bodyboard or surfboard without one, he might not have a problem kicking, but he would remain in place. To move forward, his arms would have to do all the work.

  Javi conceded that the swim prosthesis was the perfect solution to what he’d assumed was a hopeless problem. Hell, if the fake flipper worked as well as they claimed, he should be able to resume his favorite sport, even if it was only for local consumption. The thought of spending next summer back in his natural habitat was uplifting until he remembered the artificial foot couldn’t erase memories, and the fear factor loomed larger than ever. Just looking out on the ocean caused a spike in his heart rate. He’d never be able to sit on a surfboard with his legs dangling in the water, placidly waiting to catch a wave. He’d be too fucking terrified, and there was no room for fear in surfing.

  But Javi had promised he’d sit by Ed today. After spending a small fortune on Javi, without any wish for compensation other than seeing him resume his life, Ed deserved this day. Baby steps, he’d called them, and Javi put one foot in front of the other and gingerly made his way down the stairs and toward the shore.

  Since it was a Monday and most everyone was at work except for housewives, young children, bar workers, and unemployed beach bums, the area was relatively deserted. Iker spotted them immediately and trotted toward the pair with childish enthusiasm.

  “What are you guys doing here?”

  “What does it look like?” Javi said moodily.

  “Like we’re about to have fun,” Iker countered, practically bouncing.

  “We thought we’d spend a few hours,” Ed interjected. “Javi promised to give the beach a whirl for my sake.”

  “Are you swimmin
g?” Iker asked Javi.

  “Hell no.”

  “I’m off in an hour, and if you can wait for me, we’ll go in together. I’ll be your wingman.”

  Javi rewarded Iker with a baleful look. “No thanks.”

  “Aw, come on, Javi, we’ll bodyboard. The water’s perfect today.”

  “Finish your shift and then we’ll discuss it,” Javi said.

  Encouraged, Iker loped off in the opposite direction.

  “God, he’s so damn perky,” Javi muttered.

  “It’s a nice change,” Ed responded. “Your mood swings are exhausting.”

  “I can go home if you’d rather spend the day with him.”

  “Stop being so damn childish,” Ed snapped. “We were going to stick our toes in the water, not swim the entire bay. Chill the fuck out.”

  “Sorry,” Javi muttered. “It’s hard being out here.”

  Ed looked remorseful and draped an arm over Javi’s shoulder to draw him close. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I know this is a monumental hurdle, and instead of being sympathetic, I’m being dismissive.”

  “You’re right, though. I need to suck it up or start buying adult diapers.”

  “I love you,” Ed said softly. “You’re the bravest man I know, babe. Don’t give up on yourself.”

  Javi nodded and they continued walking slowly. He hadn’t walked on sand since his accident, and the unfamiliar surface was challenging. Small rocks and seashells were ignored in the past, but now he was extra vigilant to avoid stepping on potential problems. They found a good spot to plant their umbrella and beach chairs, about twenty feet from the water.

  “Is this okay with you?” Ed asked before staking his claim.

  “It’s fine.”

  They dropped their gear, stuck the umbrella firmly in the sand, and removed their shirts. Ed dug into his beach bag for the sunscreen and sprayed himself liberally. He made Javi do the same, and soon they both smelled like piña coladas from the coconut-infused lotion.

  Javi scanned the horizon, reflexively zeroing in on the point break to his right. It had been one of his favorite spots to catch set waves. There were several surfers out there, and he watched them enviously, imagining himself in a wet suit chatting it up with the guys while anticipating the next bomb. And with that image came one more horrifying—a blunt, gray-white snout leaping out of the depths. Javi sucked in a sharp breath and shuddered reflexively.

  “Babe?” Ed asked, noticing the movement.

  “Do we have any bottled water?” Javi asked, willing himself to relax. He was safe, miles away from those silent predators. Nothing could harm him here. Ed handed him a bottle, never taking his eyes off his face.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” Javi said, forcing a smile. “Just thirsty.”

  Javi shifted his attention in another direction. There was a group of toddlers building sand castles with their mothers. Two boys and three girls, ranging in age from about two to four. He watched them waddle to the edge of the shore to scoop up water in their tiny plastic buckets and then drag them back so they could dump them in the shallow moats. This benignly familiar scenario was firmly lodged in his childhood memories of long days spent with Patxi along this very same stretch of sand.

  His father had been a stud in those days, turning eyes as he played with his little boy, teaching him the rudiments of water survival. They always overstayed because Javi refused to leave, jumping in and out of the frothing waves like an anchovy, and Patxi had to resort to a few swats on his bottom to prove his point. His father had to be back at the bar at a certain time to open up for the evening, and Javi invariably made him late. He smiled, remembering Patxi’s thunderous voice threatening to ban him from swimming unless he obeyed. Of course, he never followed through, and they’d continued to play the silly game until he grew into a teen and Patxi stopped coming to the beach as often. Right then, Javi could use a swift kick in the rump to get over this debilitating fear.

  Javi tossed the now empty bottle back in their bag and stood.

  “Going somewhere?” Ed asked.

  Javi lifted his chin in the direction of the water.

  “Do you want company?” Ed stood, not waiting for an answer.

  “Sure.”

  They walked hand in hand toward the shore. Ed’s strong, dry grasp a reassuring counterpoint to Javi’s clammy, cold fingers. Whenever Ed was around, Javi felt safe, energized, and confident in his abilities to overcome the many stumbling blocks put in his way since his accident. Javi’s terror diminished him, and all his accomplishments before the shark attack seemed paltry now that he’d allowed the motherfucking beast to leave such a lasting impression. What was the point in learning how to walk again if he was too shit-scared to swim?

  Bracing for the worst—a panic attack or crying jag—Javi stepped closer. A wave broke and the water rushed forward, covering his legs to midthigh. He teetered from the sheer force, but Ed held him steady and Javi didn’t panic. It happened a few more times, but gradually the tension and mind-numbing fear released their hold. Javi turned to Ed and said, “I can do this, Edu.”

  The words echoed the ones he’d stated that emotional day at the clinic when he first realized nothing was impossible if he put his heart and soul into the task.

  Ed’s reassuring squeeze was all he needed to convince him to move a step forward. This time when the wave broke, it reached his waist. For one brief second, he wanted to turn around and go back, and then Iker’s familiar figure appeared on his other side.

  Iker took his hand. “Having fun?”

  Javi relaxed immediately, feeling safer now that he was buttressed by the two people he trusted most. He nodded and Iker winked at him.

  By some unspoken agreement, they didn’t leave his side, and Javi’s confidence grew the longer they stayed in the water. Finally Iker suggested they attempt a few minutes on a bodyboard.

  “What do you think, babe? Are you up for it?” Ed asked.

  Javi wrestled with his decision. Eighty percent of him was opposed to the idea, but the stubborn twenty percent—the brave and adventurous man still lingering somewhere deep in his bones—took control, and he bobbed his head. “Only if we stay close.”

  “I’ll be right back,” Iker said, releasing Javi and heading toward shore.

  He returned shortly with a red bodyboard tucked under his arm. Like a surfboard, but shorter and more flexible, a bodyboard was meant to be ridden lying down. It was easier to navigate than a standard surfboard and seemed like the logical choice for today’s experiment. At least this was what Javi’s stubborn side was telling its more cowardly twin. Staying close to shore was imperative. The odds of a sea monster coming this near was highly improbable. There hadn’t been any shark sightings in these waters for a long time. Everything rational in Javi’s brain was coming up with one good reason after another to make this attempt.

  “Can you stay with me?” he asked Iker.

  “You can’t get both of us on that board. Is it okay if I swim alongside?”

  “That’s good enough,” Javi said.

  “Are you certain?” Ed asked in alarm. “This was supposed to be a gradual intro.”

  Javi lifted an eyebrow at Ed and asked, “Have you ever known me to take it slow?”

  “This is different,” Ed said. “I don’t want you to jump the gun.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Javi said.

  “Putting the cart before the horse.”

  Javi looked at Ed in confusion. “Huh?”

  “You’re moving too fast,” Ed snarled in exasperation. “You’re not waterproofed yet.”

  Javi snorted. “Come on, Edu. Iker won’t leave my side. What’s the worst that can happen?” Javi pushed old images of blood and churning water firmly out of his mind.

  Ed frowned but refrained from answering.

  Iker helped Javi up on the board, and the moment he felt the familiar plastic against his skin, his body moved into positi
on automatically, like a preprogrammed car seat. Iker never let go of the board, although the waves were kicking up slightly. The buoyant rocking brought such joy to Javi’s deprived soul he was tempted to kick off without waiting for his bodyguard.

  “How does it feel?” Iker asked.

  “Natural,” Javi said impatiently. “Let’s go.”

  At first Javi used his arms to move forward, but then he decided he should test his new foot to see if it could actually do everything the company claimed. He was worried it would fly off his stump when he kicked forcefully, but it didn’t budge. His board moved in the right direction and his feet were cooperating, paddling up and down like he’d never taken a break.

  Iker was able to keep up with his strong strokes, and they moved slowly, parallel to the shore on their left. Javi didn’t know when he stopped being afraid and started to have fun, but he was whooping it up and reverting to form in no time.

  The wipeout was unexpected, and when the board flipped, he let go and panicked. His natural instinct to kick out and swim up toward the surface stalled for a split second, and he became disoriented. He opened his good eye and all he could see was a vague shape in the distance. For one horrifying moment he thought it was a shark, and he opened his mouth to scream, but realized no one could hear him. He was about to swallow an entire ocean if he didn’t get his act together. Survival instinct took over, and it was in the right direction. He reappeared above the surface and inhaled a lungful of fresh air before he felt Iker’s strong arms grabbing him around the waist and hoisting him back up on the board. After coughing up seawater and taking several much-needed breaths, he turned to Iker, who was treading water and hanging on to the board with one hand.

  “I’m fine,” Javi said reassuringly.

  “You scared the fuck out of me,” Iker replied, white-faced. “What in the hell happened?”

  “Shit happens,” Javi said, and the truth of this standard rebuttal had never felt so real. He snorted with laughter, doubly amused when salt water spurted out of his nose. Iker joined in, shaking his head at Javi’s antics. They could barely keep it together while they headed back, alternately joking and howling with laughter. When Javi’s feet scraped bottom, he got off the board and swam toward shore into Ed’s waiting arms.