I covered my face with my hands. “Oh, Jesus.”
Butch set his quesadilla down, and like a kid in love, stared into Rosalyn’s eyes. “But enough jokes. Rosalyn, are you really planning on becoming vegetarian?”
Rosalyn smiled. “That’s the plan.”
Butch said, “Because if you run into a vegetarian vampire, I’ve got the cure.” With his fork, he speared a hunk of carne asada and held the fork aloft. “A steak to the heart.” I groaned.
Butch sat up straight. “Wait, wait, I’ve got one more.” Butch had about a thousand more, all of them equally awful. “Do you know how to make holy water?”
Rosalyn was all ears, and I touched her arm. “Please don’t encourage him.”
Butch said, “You boil the hell out of it.” He slapped his thigh.
Rosalyn smiled that brilliant smile of hers. “I like your jokes.”
Butch thrust his chest out and punched me in the arm. “See, I told you they were good.”
After lunch, we loaded my big wave guns into the rental truck and the three of us said our goodbyes. Rosalyn hugged Butch. “It was so nice meeting you.” She surveyed Butch, her eyes shining. “I’m happy to see Jax has a great friend like you.”
When Butch drew me into a bear hug, he whispered, “Lucky she’s the open-minded kind. Not many girlfriends eager to have a paid stud in their beds.”
“You, my man, are the only person who can get away with saying that.”
He smiled at Rosalyn and said, “Make sure this man takes good care of you.”
My phone rang and when I removed it from my pocket, it was Sandy. I cleared the call. We’d be in Mexico within the next thirty minutes. I would deal with Sandy when we returned to California.
Rosalyn
My stay at the Trinity clinic was a whirlwind of coffee enemas, broccoli juice, meditation, and lounging next to a refreshing swimming pool surrounded by Astroturf.
I kept an open mind about the idea of drinking juices made from twenty(!) pounds of fruits and vegetables every day, but my thoughts were more like, where is my bong when I need it? “Please, somebody, bring me my poppy seed tea,” I wanted to scream. The days would consist of juices, coffee enemas, a vegetarian diet, various supplements, like potassium, vitamin B-12, pancreatic enzymes, thyroid hormone, and a special iodine solution.
The whole idea behind the treatment was to eliminate toxins from the body and enhance immune function so that my body could fight off cancer. It had to be better than my crystals, which had done nothing to save me.
The Trinity clinic was the end of the line for us unfortunate souls who’d fallen prey to everything from cancer to auto immune disorders.
Jax and I settled in to our room, which included two bed-of-nails twin-sized beds, and my treatment began; one glass of fresh juice every hour, up to thirteen times a day. Some were tasty, others, like the juices including chard, made me want to gag. How can I describe the coffee enemas? I thought that after all my practice with, ahem, certain types of sex toys, I’d be prepared for the delights of the coffee enema. But I was wrong.
“I think I need to keep this in my bag of secret weapons on the Big Wave World Tour,” Jax told me as we both sipped fresh juice by the pool one warm Tijuana afternoon. “What’s in this thing anyway?” He held his nose and took another sip.
“Stop making fun of it. You love chard.”
“I love you. Especially when your kisses taste like chard. Can’t we have one with apple and strawberry juices?”
“Let me summon room service, Prince Charming.”
“They did tell us our twenty-grand included all the broccoli juice I could drink, so I guess I shouldn’t complain.”
At mealtime we’d sit around the communal dining table with the rest of the patients. One young woman had twin baby girls waiting at home with her husband. She was dealing with leukemia. Another, who must’ve been seventy-five, said this was her last shot at curing lung cancer. Jax would hand me tissues to blot the tears he saw forming in my eyes as we listened to their stories. There was a kid who was only eighteen and had lymphoma. He was full of wide-eyed curiosity about Jax’s big wave surfing. His enthusiasm made me feel he was going to beat his disease.
Jax told the boy, “Once you and I bust out of this joint, we’re going to In-N-Out Burger.”
I kicked him under the table. “Shut up and eat your cauliflower with carrot sauce.”
One day, after I’d had a coffee enema treatment, I felt like I was going to throw up. I was told it was due to the toxins working their way out of my system. “You’ve got to rid your body of those poisonous chemotherapy drugs,” the practitioner had said as I lay on the table with the hose up my butt. But anything was better than the chemo clinic where the nurses wheeled the bag of chemo drugs on a metal pole to my waiting arm. I must’ve been desperate, putting something into my system that had a red skull and crossbones on the label. The nurses wore masks and heavy gloves to prohibit the deadly chemicals from touching them.
I crawled back to our room where Jax waited for me, lying on his bed, reading the latest issue of Surfer magazine.
“You don’t look so hot.” He rushed to my side and put his arm around me. “Sit down.”
“I thought you said I was hot.”
“Well, yeah, but what you really need is a session with the male escort of the year.”
“Shut up, you.” I fell back on the hard bed, and Jax lay next to me, smoothing the hair back from my sweaty face and kissing my forehead. “I can’t wait until I start feeling good enough to have a male escort on top of me. You know of any?”
“When we get out of here, I need to take you on vacation to some romantic sun-soaked spot. But maybe we can start with a candlelit dinner at your kitchen table then move on to your bedroom.”
“Will you make me a vegetarian soup and bring me my bong?”
“No bong!” The Trinity practitioners forbade me from taking drugs of any kind, at least for now, to allow my body to heal itself.
“I’m just so tired.”
“Then close your eyes.”
I was tired physically, from the healing reactions like headaches and burning pain when I peed, but mostly mentally. Tired from dealing with cancer treatments and from worrying about Eugene and Jax. Sometimes it was too much.
I leaned in to Jax. “But you make me feel safe.”
“You are safe.”
He stroked my hair and gazed at me as though trying to memorize my features.
Then he jumped up and said, “I’ve got something to make you feel better.” He opened the closet, removed a package, and sat on the bed next to me. “Sit up. This is for you.”
I struggled to a sitting position. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
The present was wrapped in brown butcher paper secured with twine fashioned in a festive bow. When I unwrapped the package, my hand flew to my mouth. “It’s a shadow box! Just like the ones your mom used to make.”
The box was the size of a small corkboard and had six sections in which mementos were placed behind glass.
Jax’s eager face was radiant. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, my God, where did you get all this?”
“I put Butch to work running all over Point Loma.”
We sat side by side as Jax pointed out each item.
“This is a piece of the rope from Sunset Cliffs; these are shells from the beach; these are pebbles straight off the first beach we surfed together; these are rose pedals from that bush by your apartment where you used to steal roses; these are ticket stubs to Tyler’s concerts we went to together; and this … well, you know what this is.” He pointed to the photo placed in the center of the shadow box, a photo of the two of us standing side by side in front of Ol’ Betsy after we’d painted her. Jax wore a pair of faded jeans, his tanned chest bare, and I looked like a hippie chick with my yoga outfit and wild tangle of curls. Both of us wore huge smiles, and Jax’s arm rested casually over my shoulder.
I wiped away a tear. “Jax, this is the sweetest present anyone’s ever given me.”
“You like it?”
“I love it.” My fingers ran across the glass, the memories of our time together as sweet as the rose pedals. “Is this really a piece of the rope from Sunset Cliffs?”
“Yep.”
Jax looked at me with those crazy blue eyes, and then his warm mouth was on mine, a kiss that started out gently and ended urgently, our hands all over each other’s bodies.
“Rosalyn, I love you.”
“Everything’s going to be okay, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Jax, thank you. Thank you so much for everything.”
“You, my princess, need to get some sleep.”
“Princess. I like that. Oh honey, thank you for the present. Can’t believe you got all that stuff.”
I was exhausted and had a hard time keeping my eyes open. The last thing I remembered before I slipped into sleep was Jax’s vibrant body next to mine, his blue gaze caressing me.
Princess. Our love affair was a fairy tale. But would we live happily ever after? Neither of us knew.
Jax
After the first eight days of treatment, Rosalyn’s healing reactions lessened and the Trinity practitioners were happy with her progress.
We sat on the twin bed together playing Old Maid and Rosalyn was annihilating me. I slapped a card on the bed. “I never promised I’d make it in Vegas.”
She laughed and for the fifth time that day, said, “What do you think Eugene’s doing right now?”
“The same thing he was doing when you talked to him an hour ago.”
“Well, can’t I call him again?”
I handed her the phone, and Rosalyn proceeded to have another conversation with Eugene about school, Leo, whether he was minding Nelson’s parents—everything except her health.
I waited until Rosalyn was summoned for another coffee enema and called Eugene.
“Hey,” he answered.
“You ready to hit the ocean when we get home?” I asked.
“When you guys coming back?”
“They want your mom to stay another week if she can.”
He didn’t say anything for a while. “Is she going to be okay?”
I wished I could say yes, but none of us knew. “They seem pretty happy with her progress. But I gotta tell you, I can’t wait to eat some junk food like cotton candy from the pier. But seriously, buddy, she’s doing great.”
“The food’s pretty bad there?”
“Pretty good for a rabbit maybe.”
I wanted to somehow offer emotional support to Eugene, but neither one of us would say what was really on our mind; would it be just the two of us left to walk down to the pier and surf?
Eugene said, “You gonna surf that place in Mexico?”
“Your mom’s pretty much insisting on it. I don’t want to leave her, but all the surfers’ve got their eyes on the conditions.”
“Well, then you have to go. I mean, if that’s what my mom wants.”
“Anything for your mom, right, buddy?”
“Even if it means surfing,” he said.
“Even if it means surfing.”
I had barely hung up the phone when it rang again. I didn’t even look at the caller ID, thinking Eugene was calling me back. “Hey kiddo.” But it wasn’t Eugene. It was Sandy.
“You’re sounding awfully chipper.”
I stammered out a reply. “Oh, hi Sandy.”
“Do you have my money?”
I stood up from the bed so fast that I felt dizzy. I dragged a hand through my hair. “I’ll have it within a couple of weeks.”
“That’s what you told me last time I talked to you.” She sighed heavily. “God damn it, Jax. I loaned you that money thinking that you’d pay me back either with your body or cash. What the hell have you been doing these past couple weeks?”
“I’m in Mexico,” I said lamely.
“I don’t care if you’re on Mars. I loaned you that money in good faith and I want it back. Quit messing with me because I’m about five seconds away from calling your boss at the surf shop, then blabbing to everyone in the surf community about what a deadbeat you turned out to be.” She paused for breath. “And I’ll tell them you broke the law. Last time I checked, prostitution was illegal.”
Adrenaline spiked through my system. I gulped down a breath before I said the wrong thing. “Sandy, calm down. I told you I’d have your money and I will. Including interest.”
“Yeah? Well, I just changed my interest terms from ten percent to fifteen.” Her voice became high pitched. “It’s not just the money either. You lied to me. You caught me on a night I’d had too much to drink and I fell for your suave line about having to take care of a sick girlfriend.”
I paced through the tiny room like a caged animal. “That wasn’t a lie. I’m at the Trinity clinic in Mexico right now with my girlfriend.”
“Whatever Jax. Honestly, I don’t give a damn where you are. When do I get my money?”
I made up a story on the spot. “I’m in a surf contest this weekend and the prize money’s fifty grand.” Ride of the Year wasn’t really an organized contest, but more of a “best ride wins.” It was also a huge gamble.
Her voice was shrill. “Contest? When the hell are you going to grow up and get a real job?”
Sandy needed to calm down. My voice was almost a whisper. “I have another way I can get the money.” I thought of Tyler’s home in Twentynine Palms. I buried my face in my hands. I didn’t want to sell it.
“And what way is that surfer boy? Are you planning on coming back to work for me?” Her breathing became erratic. “At this point, I’m not sure I want you back.”
“I’ll have your money within a …”
“You’ll have it within a week, Jax.” And just like that, the line went dead.
I collapsed on the bed, the Old Maid cards spread out before me. I had to win that money. My heartbeat sped up. Sandy wouldn’t really go to the surf community, would she? I had to remain calm. I took several of my big wave prep breaths and forced myself to relax.
I studied my many tide chart apps and the various websites that I used to check the surf conditions and buoy reports. Todos Santos looked like it might be breaking in the next few days. I was eager to ride some big waves—not only for that intense sensation of living that I found at the bottom of each elevator drop, in every cavernous tube, and in every no-exit hold-down, but also for the fifty thousand dollar prize money. I’d win the money and pay Sandy back with interest. Jesus, why had I agreed to her crazy scheme? I rubbed sweaty palms against my jeans. Just thinking about how I was going to reimburse Sandy made my throat go dry.
By the next day, all the conditions were cooperating for big waves at Todos. My pulse sped up, and my body felt overly warm. I would have around twenty-four hours before the conditions were perfect.
When I told Rosalyn, she said, “Jax, you have to go.”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay without me?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She stared at me. “Now, go get some waves.”
“But I don’t know if I should leave you.”
“Sweetie, I’ll be fine. You have to go. I asked and the nurses told me I could be on my own for a couple of days.”
“Are you sure?”
“Get out of here, or do I have to push you out the door?”
Even though I was conflicted about leaving Rosalyn’s side, I felt like running around the block fifty times. How do I explain what big wave surfing meant to me? It was more than a passion. Even after what had happened to Butch and others who weren’t so lucky, I’d be willing to bet that every single big wave surfer I knew couldn’t wait to get back out there to feel the adrenaline charge of the big drop.
Rosalyn’s hand was soft and warm as I held it. “I promise, I’ll be back in a couple of days. You’d better save me a glass of that broccoli juice.” She brushed my lips with a
sweet good luck kiss.
* * *
The following day, fueled by energy drinks, adrenaline, and more than a little bit of crazy, I met up with a group of big wave surfers at the Ensenada harbor and made the twelve-mile boat ride to Todos Santos.
Killers was magical. It was one of those days where everything came together for me, and I was catching bomb after bomb, feeling confident. The surf photographers were positioned on their Jet Skis, and I was having such a great time that I pretty much forgot about the Ride of the Year entry. I just wanted to ride bigger and bigger waves.
So, I paddled out farther. I wasn’t out there long when I saw one of the biggest waves I’d ever seen in the ocean. All the surfers who were inside started paddling out like maniacs because it was a huge set and getting bigger. I patted my wetsuit. Underneath was my lucky charm, my Love Bone T-shirt.
When that wave came toward me, my first thought was, I can’t paddle into this. It’s too big. But then, I thought, Well, I’m out here and may as well get in a good position. When it rolls through, I can decide if I’ll go or not. I got lined up perfectly and after a couple of strokes, the wave caught me. Then, I was on my feet, and I had that mind-blowing feeling of being one with this awesome force of nature. Sweet! It was one of the biggest waves I’d ever caught and part of me was crazy excited, and the other part of me was like, Oh, shit. I can’t believe I’m catching this wave.
Neurons fired and endorphins surged through my body bringing me as close to orgasm as any sport could. Sheer passion, excitement and joy. I was a third of the way down the wave, and I was flying. I know I had a huge grin on my face.
When I had reached the end of the drop, I felt a couple of big lumps. I figured I could handle it, because I had experienced the bumpy ride of a big wave plenty of times. The problem was that I was on my ten-foot long gun that was three-and-a-half inches thick, and it handled like a canoe. So smacking the ledges felt like I was hitting speed humps in a Cadillac at forty miles per hour. Somehow I was still up, and I thought I had it. Then I nailed the next bump. Everything that followed seemed to happen in slow motion.
Pleasure Point: The Complete Series Page 56
