Swell (33 page)

‘Aloha, Rory,’ we called out in unison, ‘great last wave, dude.
’

The crowd howled their appreciation and almost instantaneously a wind whipped up the sand around us and began to blow so strong it almost knocked me over. It felt as if all the angels had put their fingers to their lips and blown. I gasped to catch my breath.

‘He’s answering us,’ Ruby laughed tearfully. ‘He always had to have the last word.’

Ruby squeezed my hand tightly. The wind had brought colour to her cheeks and a smile played on her lips.

‘He’s really talking to us,’ she said with a sparkle in her eyes I had been scared would never return.

I did not know whether she was right but it definitely felt as if there were greater forces at play.

Rory’s parents stood beside us looking completely overwhelmed by the outward display of love for their son. Slowly the surfers stepped into the circle and retrieved their boards from the sand. They held flowers and palm leaves and wore leis around their necks. One by one they made their way to the water’s edge. Cain and the Tiger Sharks paddled out first. Jason pulled off his T-shirt and then pulled me into his arms.

‘Thank you,’ he breathed.

His heart pounded heavily against my chest.

When he moved away a shadow passed across his face. This would be the first time Jason had been in the ocean since Rory died and I could tell he was struggling with the prospect. He wanted to honour his closest friend but he was afraid to go back in the water. Perhaps it was the danger or perhaps, as I suspected, it was because he wanted to carry on hating the ocean but knew as soon as he surfed again he would be hooked once more.

‘I don’t think…’

I reached up and placed the plumeria lei he had been gripping in his hand over Jason’s head and let it drop onto his shoulders.

‘You can do it, Jason. For Rory.’

‘It’s not the same paddling out alone.’

‘Maybe you won’t have to.’

I nodded to the slim figure walking from the house with a board under his arm. He wore a cap pulled down so the brim hid his face but the board was unmistakeable. It was yellowed and dented with a red lightning bolt running down the centre. It was the board that had won the Californian Championships in 1966 and it was the board on which Jason had caught his very first wave.

‘Dad,’ Jason gasped.

‘Hello, son,’ said Ricky, glancing furtively around, ‘I’d be honoured if you’d paddle out with me.’

Father and son followed the other surfers out into deeper water where they once more formed a circle sitting astride their boards. Jason and Cain sat far apart, as they were in life and in character. The wind whipped up the surface of the water like a
cappuccino. Ruby and I held hands at the water’s edge with her parents on one side and Rory’s on the other.

‘This is amazing,’ Ruby’s brother Tim said.

‘Just like Rory,’ Ruby sighed.

She was serene as she watched the surfers bow their heads and toss their flowers and leaves into the ocean where they dispersed on the currents, carrying with them the memories of Rory. I threw my flowers and leaves into the shore break and closed my eyes. Ruby then held up her flowers and breathed in their sweet aroma before hurling them into the water. We silently watched the bouquet that should have been thrown by the bride at the end of a wedding celebration drift out towards the horizon in the rip tide.

After a minute’s silence, the surfers began to splash the water with their fists and shout at the top of their voices. I could not make out the words but the energy and emotion was unforgettable. They then broke the circle and paddled towards the waves. They rode them sometimes four or five abreast, attacking the ride and laughing when they fell. Ruby’s face was soaking wet with tears but still the smile touched her lips.

‘I wish he could see this,’ she said.

‘Maybe he can.’

Eventually the only two surfers remaining were Jason and Ricky Cross. They sat beside each other, Ricky a slighter version of his well-built professional surfer son. When the best set of the day approached, they spun their boards around, paddled together, jumped lightly to their feet and rode the wave with Jason just inches behind his father. At the end of the wave Ricky kicked off and tumbled into the water and Jason dived in beside him. When they emerged from under the surface, Ricky swam towards Jason,
stopped for a moment and then opened his arms to hug his son. They were too far away for me to make out their faces but I sensed they were smiling.

I watched and then I reached a hand to my cheek and realised I was crying. I wiped the tears away and caught sight of Cain standing staring out to sea. For an instant I was caught off-guard and the look of despair on his face made me sad. His head was lowered when he approached me and when he reached my side he stopped.

‘I’m so sorry,’ he said quietly before walking on.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Rory’s body was repatriated to Australia two days later. Ruby planned to spread his ashes at his favourite wave in Margaret River, the place where fate and a chocolate muffin had first brought them together. We had a tearful goodbye.

‘I want him to be able to surf that wave forever. He’ll be happy there,’ Ruby explained, her eyes glistening with tears.

‘I hope you can be happy again too, Ruby.’

I held onto her, wishing she did not have to leave. She pulled slowly away and squinted up at me.

‘Promise me you’ll be happy, Bailey. Don’t let life and love pass you by.’

I gave a half-smile.

‘What do you mean?’

She touched her hand to her heart.

‘You have a lot of love in your heart. Let it out.’

I looked at my feet.

‘I’m fine, Ruby, honestly.’

‘You’re more than fine, darl’, you’re wonderful. We all think so. I just want you to promise me you won’t go through life being blinkered. There is more to life than work you know.’

Her eyes scrutinized my face and I suddenly sensed that the girl I had felt the need to care for over the previous year had enough maturity for both of us.

‘I loved Rory with all my heart and I lost him and yes the pain is excruciating but’ – she wiped a tear from her cheek – ‘if I could do it all again I would. I would suffer all this pain for one day with him because the love we had was worth it. What is it Shakespeare said? “Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”.’

‘I think it was Tennyson,’ I said with a smile.

‘There you go that’s why you’re the writer, darl’.’

She nudged me playfully with her elbow and we laughed through the tears.

‘Just think about it, Bailey.’

I nodded.

‘I promise, Ruby and you remember I will always be at the end of the phone for you. Don’t be lonely.’

Ruby gently rubbed her bump.

‘I won’t be. I’ve got a part of him right here.’

I watched her leave. She was so petite she looked like a child as she stepped hesitantly across the sand but in a week she had become a woman with knowledge of the highs and desperate lows of life. There were more stages of grief to come for Ruby but I had faith she would cope. She might have been as delicate as a little bird but she was stronger than most of us had given her credit for.

Less than a week later, the organisers of the Pipemasters event held a vote among the surfers, which Jason did not attend, and made the decision to run the event. I was then relieved Ruby had left before she had to witness life slipping back to normality on the
dream tour without Rory’s presence. The contest Director, Munroe Stores, came to inform Jason in person.

‘Everybody wants to get home for Christmas and a good swell is predicted. Too much is riding on the final result to cancel it. I’m sorry.’

A nerve flickered in Jason’s cheek, just as it did in his father’s when he felt anxious.

‘So ego comes before respect for our dead brother does it? Cain knows I would take the title if we cancel so he’s pushing for the comp to run, is that it?’

Munroe looked like a man who was not easily rattled but the way he shifted his feet and averted his gaze indicated his mission sat uncomfortably upon his shoulders.

‘Cain shouts and we all jump, is that it, Munroe?’

Munroe ran his hand through his thick white hair and sighed.

‘Believe me it’s not like that, Jason. Rory was a totally respected and loved member of the tour but you gotta understand there are too many sponsors involved and too many surfers trying to re-qualify for the tour in this last event and, well, great surfers die every year. We can’t just stop because of a tragic accident.’

Jason stood up so quickly Munroe flinched.

‘I think you should go, Munroe. I won’t surf this event and if that means I forfeit my title to Cain then so be it.’

‘NO!’

Chuck jumped to his feet.

‘Dude, I so can’t let you do that.’

Chuck wrapped his long arm around Munroe’s shoulders and guided him to the door.

‘Thanks for coming, man, just let us deal with this. ‘You got three days,’ said Munroe sadly.

‘I’m not doing it,’ Jason said firmly and left us to ponder how we could change the mind of a man who was more determined than anyone I had ever known.

THE END

I stared at the two words on my laptop screen and sat back against the headboard of my bed. My book could not end like this. Rory dead, Jason retired, Cain the unworthy winner of the title by default. I could not let it happen without a fight.

To give him his credit, Chuck had tried everything he could think of to convince Jason to compete in the contest. He had tried the sympathetic approach and the aggressive approach. He had tried bribing him with cars and holidays and new sponsorship opportunities. He had even offered to fix him a date with the world’s highest paid supermodel because he knew her ‘people’ and they owed him a favour. Finally Chuck had shocked us all by offering to donate his entire year’s salary to a charity of Jason’s choice if he just competed one last time. Judging by the way Chuck began to shake as if he were in an earthquake when he made the offer, I think every ounce of his being was praying Jason would see the error of his ways and compete without accepting the bribe. Jason thanked Chuck for his efforts but still refused.

‘Man what is up with him?’ Chuck growled. ‘I mean if you can’t bribe a dude with chicks and cash there is definitely a problem, you know what I’m sayin’?’

Chuck had never really grasped the concept of principles.

For Poseidon, Jason’s choice to withdraw from the title race was nothing short of a commercial disaster. They had already invested a huge amount of time and money in a marketing campaign celebrating the thirteenth title that Oli had assumed his superstar surfer would be bringing home. The fact that Rory was a Poseidon rider and had died so publicly was also a blow. Oli was sympathetic in his own way in that he cursed both surfers regularly and sympathised only with himself. He had neither the tact nor the inclination to read Jason’s mood and work out how to convince him to compete.

Ricky had tried to work on Jason by regaling his son with tales of their early surfs and playing classic surf movies on repeat. He tried desperately to stir the passion for the ocean in Jason but it was as if a light had been extinguished inside him. Even his eyes had dulled from silver to grey.

I was emotionally drained after the events of the previous fortnight and I was dogged by the selfish fear that my book would be a failure if Jason retired on a low. Life stretched ahead of me like a dusty track with no road signs. In frustration I jabbed my finger on the cursor key of my laptop and ran through the pages.

‘All this bloody work and for what?’ I muttered. ‘I might as well let Tristan know he’s got space on his books for a new author. Damn it.’

My finger released the key and my eyes focused gradually on the words filling the screen as if trying to see through a window blurred with condensation. At the same moment my eyes found clarity, so did my brain. I knew what I had to do.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

I lay my head back and closed my eyes. Outside my window just metres away on the beach were the sounds of the final event of the pro surfing tour getting underway. Rock O’Rafferty was warming up his commentary microphone and attempting to rouse the crowd that had been gathering since early that morning. The hooter boomed intermittently like a fog horn on a stormy night with the organisers testing the equipment to make sure the event ran as smoothly as possible. There was a buzz in the air, which stopped dead at the door of our house. While I listened, I nervously wiggled my fingers above the keys of my laptop. I then highlighted the words
THE END
that I had written previously and pressed delete. I was the writer and there would be no ending until I said so.

‘The swell is a perfect west swell, the trade winds are smoothing out the Banzai Pipeline like glass,’ Rock announced. ‘It’s eight feet this morning with a bigger swell expected. I know you’re all waiting for the Cain Ohana and Jason Cross showdown but right now, ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to announce Jason Cross has still not confirmed his entry.’

A groan of dismay coursed through the crowd.

‘Jason is listed in heat number eight and there is no loser’s round two in this event, guys, so if he misses that first heat that means instant elimination and bye-bye world title.’

I surveyed the beach that was packed with spectators and checked the time. I had just over three and a half hours to convince Jason to compete. The heats flew by as if on fast-forward. In contrast to the other nine events on the tour calendar, the Pipemasters was run with four surfers in each heat rather than two. As a result the contest was completed in less time to ensure the North Shore’s famous wave was not monopolised and other surfers prevented from surfing there for longer than strictly necessary.

Petit Sylvain won his heat, which allowed Oli a brief moment of happiness but two other Poseidon surfers were eliminated in heats four and five, one consequently failing to re-qualify for the tour the following year. This surfer left the water with his head bowed and a quivering lip.