That Day, Karen Deen [early readers .txt] 📗

“That’s it! You two are on your own. That’s enough picking on Ricky for one day. I’m out.” He’s smiling as he heads towards his old beat-up Volkswagen bus, the quintessential young surfer-guy vehicle. He’s got his board strapped to the roof racks, the curtains on the back windows, and the mattress in the rear of the van. Oh, to be twenty-one again, living life without a care in the world.

“I’ll miss you, little Ricky, it just seems too long until I’ll see you again,” I yell to his back while he’s walking away.

“And that is why I never surf on your side of the break. You think you’re cool and you’re so not, old man!” he says before he slams his driver’s door shut, starting the engine, revving it to keep it going. He leans his hand out the window, giving me the finger with a huge smirk on his face as he pulls away from the curb.

Jodie, leaning against the side of my truck, bursts out laughing.

“Well, I can successfully say, my work here is done for today. I’ve annoyed Ricky and given my sister her daily entertainment. I’d say that’s a good day.” I stow my tool belt in the lockbox on my truck and close the lid, locking it tight. The amount of money in tools in this truck is huge.

“You know he idolizes you, even though he pretends to hate you.” She looks at me with those eyes that I still can’t read, and I have no idea what she’s thinking when she talks about Ricky.

“Well, we won’t let him know that I think he’s a pain in the ass, will we. Can’t wreck my perfect image that he has of me. I mean, I am close to being a legend in his eyes, so let’s keep that on track, shall we?” I lift my shirt up to wipe the sweat off my face.

“I’ll head off too and let you get your surf in before the storm hits. The reports on the radio on the way over here say it’s going to be big a one. Which means work is going to be busy tonight. No one knows how to stay home and shelter from the weather.” She leans forward, giving me a peck on the cheek, and I wrap my arms around her for a hug.

“Yuck, you’re all sweaty and gross,” she squeals, trying to pull away from me.

“But you love your little brother anyway.” I finally let her go so she can escape the smell.

“Keep telling yourself that, bro. I’m on night shift for the next few days, so I’ll see you early next week. Make sure you stay safe out there this afternoon. I don’t want to see you in the back of my rig because you’ve done something stupid.” She slaps me on the shoulder as she steps backwards.

“Me and stupid don’t belong in the same sentence. Anyway, I’m the one that should be telling you to stay safe on the roads tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heard it all before. You can guarantee, I’ll have the text message from Mom in the next thirty minutes to remind me too. Anyone would think I’m the baby of the family.”

“Nope, Mom still saves those lectures for me. Now, get going, I have a storm swell to surf and then a cold beer waiting for me.” I open the door to my truck, and she waves as she drives off down the road.

Nothing compares to the calmness I feel out here, sitting on my surfboard, feeling the power of the ocean beneath me. It’s how I choose to start and end my day. Except this afternoon might be cut a little short. The rumble is getting louder coming from behind me. It’s a fine balance. The storm makes the swell bigger which makes the surfing better. But with it comes the danger of lightning. I didn’t pay much attention in high school, but I do remember the lesson about lightning. The highest point is what attracts the electricity. Pretty simple equation. Don’t be the highest point!

I’m looking for that one last wave of the day, the perfect one. Glancing around, I see that while I’ve been watching the storm coming and in my own bubble of thought, all the others out here have cleared out. Guess I’m the last man standing.

Fuck, that means I’m the highest point!

I need to get out of the water and head home before things get too dangerous.

Lying flat on my board, my arms are ready as the swell of the wave starts to lift my board up higher. Paddling as fast as I can to match the momentum of the wave, my board starts shooting forward, and my heart is beating fast. I love the adrenaline rush of being one with the water rushing to shore.

Pushing my body up and then jumping to my feet, I steady my balance which is no mean feat with a moving board underneath you. Slowly standing to my full height of six-foot-two, I take control of the way I’m skimming across the wave. I guide the nose of the board and ride the wave just below the crest that is holding off just in the slightest. One wrong move and I’ll be thrown headfirst down the wave towards the ocean floor with a sharp pointed fiberglass board following me. It’s designed so that the board is strapped to my leg, so I can’t escape it. Even though that strap can stop me from drowning, that’s only if I manage to dodge being speared by the board in all the craziness. I’ve wiped out plenty of times before, but today I’m determined will not to be one of them.

I might be a grown man, but the kid inside me is still high-fiving himself for a perfect ride all the way to the shore. Standing up in the shallows and tucking my board beneath my arm, I’m satisfied that once again I