After introducing herself, Toni said, “I’ve got to see the water.” Billie smiled as if he understood – Who wouldn’t want to see the water?
They climbed the steps to the boardwalk to meet a mild onshore breeze. Both leaned on the rail to view the wondrous expanse before them. It was flat with an onshore wind ripple. Seagulls laced the air. There were a few dozen people in front of the restaurant on the beach. Toni saw lots of walkers either coming towards them or strolling away just at the shoreline where the sand was wet and firm. She loved to walk the beach and she squandered oodles of time walking the sand while Vance had surfed. There was an extended wooden fishing pier protruding beyond the water’s edge off to the immediate right from where they stood.
“The Beachcomber is okay.” Billie said nodding toward the restaurant. “Their competition is about the same... mediocre and to be honest, there aren’t any great restaurants in the area. You would be better off going into Wilmington.” Toni asked about surf shops for boards. He suggested several and each reputable, unless someone was looking to have a board shaped. “In that case,” he said. “There is just one.”
After a few minutes of chit-chat, Billie was ready to take her to the house.
“Gorgeous, huge and gorgeous!” Toni exclaimed when Billie opened the front door.
“Yes, it’s a classy place and it keeps me busy,” Billie said.
Toni nodding, “Yes, I would imagine so. By the way, are there any little idiosyncrasies we need to be aware of?” She knew from her childhood experiences with beach houses that there were often oversights that arose after the keys were given.
Billie laughed quietly. “You’re the first to ask me that! Yes, there are and I’ll show you around but to be honest, nothing to complain about.”
He took her on the tour, explaining the dripping faucet and cracked window among other minor faults of the place. The beach, he said - was private however it was a beach and so, the public walked it and on rare occasions swam out front. She understood. Her own quarters above the three car garage were unpretentious opposite of the main house but to her taste. The rooms were small and the kitchenette, tiny. The view was magnificent.
Billie’s wife came over twice a week to clean, he concluded. “And if you find any “idiosyncrasies” that need my expertise,” he lived 10 minutes away.
Toni asked about surf spots; which were the most popular? What about for a newbie?
“You surf?” Billie asked her as they stood in the driveway.
“My deceased husband was the surfer… a natural. He got in the water every chance he could which wasn’t too often these last few years – decades, actually.” Toni finished with a sad smile. “He spent a lot of his own precious surf time trying to teach me… I was hopeless.” She added brightly, “I can snow ski!”
Billie deadpanned through his thick mustache, “Should have vacationed in the alps.”
Toni laughed. “Yes, perhaps I will if Europe settles down again. For now, I have a young friend who wants to learn to surf this summer. I’ve been asked to teach him… So, here I am. He and his cousin arrive next week. I’m hoping to have him set up by then with a board, a beach and a swell.”
Now Billie laughed. “Join the club! Every surfer wants a board, a beach and a swell!” He got in his car. “Your husband was Merriweather?” He asked.
Toni said, “Yes, Vance Merriweather… Don’t tell me you knew him?”
Billie shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t forget a name like that but I think I’ll ask around. Surfers our age are a tight group and back in the day, we had it going.” He waggled a hang-ten sign at her before revving his engine.
She watched Billie drive away while thinking about his parting words and Toni had to agree. Surfers were a network connected by word of mouth for the most part. Vance had frequently introduced Toni to someone who knew someone that he knew. These meetings had happened on the busy (and cold water) beaches of Southern California, isolated beaches from Baja to Fuji, to the fishing village at Eland’s Bay on the west coast of South Africa and beaches beyond these.
Once she got her apartment settled, Toni inspected the kitchen cupboards and refrigerator at the main house. Making a list, she went to the grocery store for some basics. After Billie had explained about the restaurants, Toni assumed that Mishael and Hugh would tire quickly of eating out locally. She would put together a meal plan that would be both appetizing and achievable; she wondered if Rifta could cook.
It was after nine that evening when Toni finally put her feet up and called Celina Nelson. Toni had easily sold the Nelsons on the idea of her coming ahead to organize and line-up Mishael’s remaining weeks left on his Tour-before-Duty. At this time, she let Celina know what a great pick the beach town of Edgewood was for a beginner surfer and also, how she found the suitable house on Magnolia Drive. Celina was busy but she told Toni to call again in a few days to keep them informed.
After receiving an adorable picture of grandbaby Gwyneth on her cell phone from Anna, Dale’s wife, Toni touched base with Kate and Merry, too.
Turning the lights out at the house, Toni became aware of the assortment of windows surrounding her. She felt acutely vulnerable standing in the dark before the massive picture windows facing the water. There were window coverings and in her estimation, they should be used once the men arrived. She set the alarm and went out the kitchen door, crossing the gravel driveway to the garage. A motion light came on.
The air had cooled but was damp still. The slight breeze was welcomed as it caressed her skin. The night was quiet already, excepting tree frogs and crickets who were tuning up for an evening concert in the nearby scrub-oak and pine forest. She couldn’t hear the surf at all.
They would be isolated in this house and Toni wondered how smart that was in view of the varied precautions Todd Nelson had set in place. She went inside and locked the door. Back home, her dogs always made her feel safe. Here, she set the garage alarm and climbed the steps to her summer quarters. It wasn’t that she felt unsafe but she sensed a foreboding shift in her spirit or her “gut” as she called it.
In the dark, Toni went and stood at her own smaller version of the big house picture window. The ocean was a black expanse as the gibbous moon was behind her somewhere.
Although physically tired, Toni’s mind was busy. It was barely two weeks ago that she had been worried about money; her bills, the credit cards and the student loan. Currently, she was spending money with nary a thought toward personal economy. The Nelsons had given her an expense account for travel, food and numerous items needed for Mishael’s two month beach stay. In her emergency bag alone, there was hidden $5000! She shook her head at the about-face of her circumstances.
As a missionary, Vance and his immediate family had understood the unrelenting roller-coaster ride called Feast or Famine. Not that they had ever starved but there were scattered episodes of very thin living.
Toni remembered with great shame those times when she would begin in prayer asking God to meet a particular need but end with complaining and accusation against God. Even recently, she had devolved into self-pity and doubt and presumption. Toni wanted to shut her mind off from replaying those toxic thoughts and yet, she knew from previous times that they would continue to pollute the well of her soul, until she scooped them out by comparing her imperfect mindset to the truth of the mind of God - found in scripture.
Like an addict, Toni struggled with the resolve to never return to her poisonous mental fix. In this case, her fix, her drug was her logical reasoning that knew God in His greatness and omnipotence could step in at anytime and make right a wrong, fill a void or bridge a gap... disregarding His greater plan. The Creator who set the limits to the oceans and directed the path of the lightning bolt, who orchestrated the stars in the sky and healed a person of cancer; that God, her God could do anything. In Toni’s mind, she assumed her plans were also His plans and vice versa. Once God made known His plans to her, she was to modify her own behavior to His schedu
le. In theory, Toni knew what she knew to be true but she also understood that God’s ways are not her ways and His plans and designs were far and beyond her comprehension. This would always be the case and she knew it. Still, she would reference the Bible and remind God as if He had forgotten what was written in those eternal pages. She would point out Jesus’ own words, “Nothing is impossible with God.”
Eventually, Toni’s patience would wear thin and bubbling up from that human heart of hers would arise, the beast within.
Yes, she was an addict to high-mindedness.
As Toni stood there staring into the textured darkness of beach and ocean and sky, she suddenly realized that the seasons of feast or famine had changed over the course of her walk with God. The intervals between and the severity had changed. The Merriweathers without a doubt hadn’t seen any economic difficulties for a few years but when Vance died it seemed the financial bottom dropped out. Toni had been fine for several months although when January loomed ominously near, the familiar dread set in. Her faith and her thoughts spiraled down until everything was God’s fault. Conveniently, she forgot all the providential feats, small miracles and answered prayers that kept her buoyed and blessed at the heart-rending time following her husband’s death. Gratitude dissipated.
Vance’s voice echoed in her mind.
“Trials teach us discipline. Trials teach us obedience. Trials teach us enduring lessons that prosperity and the good times never could...”
At those tragically low points of faithlessness, when she was merely going through the motions of Christianity – doing what she knew to do, Toni realized in her heart of hearts that God was on schedule once again.
Was it a test?
She was never certain. Toni only knew that God was not haphazard. As Merry had quoted Toni, “nothing is random with God.”
God is a genius. Everything works together towards His ultimate plan.
His truths are enduring. What was true 3000 years ago was true yesterday and it would be true tomorrow.
He is an artist and a carpenter.
God is savior, father and friend.
Scraping the filthy flotsam off her soul meant meaningful confession. Toni groped for the correct words; specific words that had been disguised by her feelings. Discouragement was actually the failure of her will. Her whining, complaining and self-pity were unbelief. Presumption and accusation against God were not helpful Holy Ghost criticism but rather rebellion. Going through the motions of her Christian walk without faith had produced a fruitless harvest. She folded her arms and leaned against the window pane. Her forehead pressed ever so lightly against the glass.
Toni prayed.
She felt nothing but Toni knew her feelings of relief, even joy would follow. Emotions played havoc with faith. In the past, Toni learned the hard way to let truth lead, allowing emotions to follow. Her personal history had proven that her feelings often prompted truth to surface, like compassion triggering charity which was a righteous action. Even so, she knew never to allow her feelings to take the steering wheel. Emotions were mercurial at best, like a two year old making day-to-day decisions for an entire family… The consequences would be imbalanced and chaotic and immediately disastrous.
Toni pulled open the two windows on either side of the larger picture window. She wanted to drive the stale darkness out to make room for the cleansing ocean air pushing in. Turning off the kitchen light, she shut down the air conditioner and yanked the ceiling fan on over the coffee table. That’s better, she thought.
The bedrooms were each the same size. Toni had put her belongings into the one facing the ocean. Opening the bedroom windows, she fell asleep to the distant sound of hushed surf.
Chapter 11
Every waking hour was filled with productive activity, as Toni prepared for the arrival of Mishael and company. On the surface, it appeared she spent a lot of unnecessary time hanging around the Beachcomber beach break and leaning on the boardwalk railings but this is where she picked up information about the water and wave conditions. Meanwhile, Merry was firing off texts to Toni with the surf report information and together, they matched the virtual conditions with reality. Their exchange developed into a formula that the mother-daughter team tweaked the entire time Toni taught Mishael.
Even Toni’s time spent sunbathing had a purpose. She read and prayed while conditioning her skin for the upcoming two months of summer sun. At the age of almost 50, she knew how important it was to have a right balance of sun and shade. This job would put her in full sun more than she would have ever chosen on her own. She was never a sunbather. When she was a prepubescent teen, she was always brown as a pixie in the warmer months because of her outdoor antics whether from the multitudinous summer trips to the Jersey Shore or playing the tomboy in her own backyard. But intentionally lie out in full sun for a tan… no.
On Friday morning, the missing luggage arrived from the airport. It was almost a full van of stuff. Toni counted 17 pieces. The guy stacked it in front of the large screen television in the main room.
On Saturday, she bought three surf boards after getting recommendations from Billie and his surfing pal, Rick Salerno. Two boards for Mishael and one small floater for Toni.
Little did she know that her own Plastic Fantastic board given to her on her 30th birthday by Vance was on its way via a shipping company. Merry had insisted that Kate wrap it thoroughly and send it for their mother’s use, although Kate thought Toni would never again attempt riding the old, orange board. Kate told her younger sibling, “Merry, Mom would be better off giving this board to the Smithsonian.” Merry hadn’t answered but the sisters knew that in the past the board was seldom ridden.
The last time Toni went out on it was a sun filled day in Durban, South Africa. The water, always warm inveigled her into thinking this would be the day that she would get up and ride her board with confidence. The swell was not large. The water was ideal with a gentle, persistent wind blowing offshore.
The Merriweathers had come to Durban to help out a fellow missionary couple and Vance would be speaking in the evening. He never surfed on the day he would be preaching at a church meeting. It was too risky and he valued his consecrations for ministry.
On this particular day, Toni and the missionary’s wife were in the water. Toni was attempting to surf. Her friend was knee-boarding while the guys had gone to the revival tent to set up for the evening service. Dale and Kate remembered the day with clarity as they were in the water and out of the water, both being great swimmers. Merry was a toddler and she wasn’t with them on the trip.
Toni had seen the perfect wave moving swiftly toward her and she knew a great wave when she saw one! She let out a confident hoot and then paddled furiously to get into it. As she dropped in and attempted to get up, the wave broke on top of her. She was rolled and the board’s fin with knife-like precision, gouged her inner thigh. Toni didn’t know she was bleeding. After being tossed about, she grabbed her leash and pulled the board to her. Climbing up, she paddled doggedly for shore. Hearing Toni’s hoot, her friend had watched the promising scenario unfold to an amusing surfing fiasco, but she quit smiling when she saw the red streaming off the board. Toni received twelve stitches and she never attempted the orange surfboard again.
Kate and Merry wondered what their mother’s reaction would be when it arrived. When the board was delivered Tuesday morning, the result was far and above any expectation they might have had.
Sunday morning- Billie and Dianna Cliff attended a solid Bible believing and doing church in the small town next to Edgewood. At this time, the Forecastle Church on the Rock had approximately 100 people on Sunday morning during the summer months and during the Christmas holidays. It had twice those numbers for the previous two decades but the beach crowd wasn’t what it had been in the past. The holiday atmosphere had changed. Vacationers were interested in getting away from everything and perhaps, from everyone that demanded a responsible reaction. A Holy Spirit lead church although a place of
comfort and eternal hope often required a sensible, moral response. Even the local seeker-friendly churches that had experienced huge increases in attendance during the summer months, saw a decline of late.
At the Cliffs’ invitation, Toni found herself in Forecastle early Sunday. This particular morning, the congregation was an unassuming crowd of about 80 people. She noticed some of the younger people were dressed for an immediate beach outing, following the conclusion of the service. Smiling, Toni felt gratitude that these “kids” were taking time to get up early, to worship, to be fed spiritually and even to renew their vows of faith to God. The apathy and fearlessness toward the spiritual side of life that teens and young adults embraced confirmed that the devil was alive and well, seducing and destroying the future, the destinies of the next generation. Yes, Toni was encouraged to see a multitude of young’uns gathered on Sunday morning.
Pastor Sean O’Brien, the elderly minister preached a straightforward message, titled “Being Honest with God,” from 2 Corinthians 10. It was simple and yet confirming Toni’s own thoughts and confessions from a few nights earlier. She sat with Dianna and her mother, Ruth while Billie taught the boys’ teen Sunday School class during the morning service.
Afterwards, they lunched together at Ruth’s house. Ruth Miller was in her 80’s and a widow too. She immediately took to Toni. Her prolific garden patch in the back yard, reminded Toni of her own small plot of which, she hoped Merry was watering.
On Monday afternoon, Toni had thought to call Mishael when instead, she answered the one and only call from the traveling trio. Her cell phone buzzed and Toni saw that it was Rifta.
“Rifta Smart Guy! Is it you?” asked Toni.
His answer proved that it was indeed Rifta. “Yes, it is me! No?” He said.
“How are you? Where are you?” she asked.
Cynic, Surfer, Saint (Scenic Route to Paradise #1) Page 9
