Chapter Ten

I felt bad when Ray saw the big slice taken out of his board. “That board hasn’t had a ding in the last thirty years,” he said.

“Sorry, Ray. Can you fix it?”

“No,” he said, almost angry now. “But I’ll teach you how to fix it. Right here. Right now.”

So I had my first lesson in surfboard repair. There was sanding, cutting fiberglass cloth, mixing resin and adding catalyst. Some of the resin hardened on my hands, and that felt weird. Then I had to sand the surface again for almost half an hour.

“I’m not going to surf in a crowd anymore. That’s how this happened. Surfing in a pack sucks.”

“Yes, it does,” Ray said. “But it’s a necessary evil sometimes. And you need to confront that demon too, warrior style. But without violence.”

“What?”

“It’s a Zen thing, more or less. What was it you didn’t like about the crowd?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t feel free to surf like I wanted to.”

“That’s where the warrior part comes in. You accept the circumstances and you fight the negative part within you. You don’t have to get agro for waves or let anyone run into you, but you fight the negativity.”

“How do you do that?”

Ray smiled. “You use your mind, dingo. When else is it difficult for you to surf?”

“When the waves are big.”

“What are you feeling?”

“I don’t know. Fear, I guess.”

“It’s natural. Now, you probably think I’m going to say that a wave warrior would fight the fear within him.”

“Sounds logical.”

“But that’s not it. A wave warrior embraces the fear, knows why it is there and respects both the fear and the wave. So you look for a way to work with the fear, to turn it into something useful. And you’ll be a better surfer.”

“But I’m not sure I get it.”

“You will. Find your center. Find your strength. Listen to the fear but don’t let it control you. Instead, learn from it.”

I was done sanding. “You going in the water?” I asked.

“Nah,” Ray said. “I have to go to Halifax. I have some prescriptions I have to get filled. Maybe e-mail back home and let ’em know I’m okay.”

“There’s a bonfire at the inlet tonight, just up from where you’re staying. Drop by.”

“Maybe,” Ray said. “Now take better care of that board. It has a history, you know.”

“I will.”

I don’t know what I was expecting at the bonfire. I hitchhiked there and saw a bunch of the city surfers drinking beer and smoking weed. The fire was raging. Genghis and Tim were arguing about something. I found Tara talking with some girls, and she introduced me.

“I saw you get nailed by Gorbie today,” a girl named Wendy said. “You get hurt?”

“Only my pride,” I said. “And my board.”

“I hear there’s a tropical storm off Bermuda,” Tara said. “Could be waves here by Thursday.”

“Don’t know if I’m ready for that,” I said before I realized how I’d sound.

“I am,” Wendy said. “I can’t wait.”

“Wendy’s going to be in the contest this year,” Tara said. “And so am I. Surfing a real tropical swell would put us in good shape.”

“Ben, you should surf in the juniors—it’s sixteen and under,” Wendy said.

I shuffled my feet and looked down. “Don’t know if I’m ready for that, either,” I said.

Just my luck that Gorbie was walking up behind me right then and heard it. He’d been drinking. “Ben, man, you gotta learn not to drop in on a brother.” His voice was decidedly non-brotherly.

“Sorry, I thought I had the wave all alone.”

“I dropped in deep. Would have made it if you hadn’t gotten in my way.”

“Like I said, sorry.”

“Next time, dude, your ass is grass. You better stay with the knee slappers in the shore break and stay away from the point.”

Tara looked embarrassed. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said after Gorbie walked off.

“Here, have a beer,” Wendy said. I guess she felt sorry for me too.

I wasn’t a drinker. But I had this feeling I should accept it. So I did. I slugged it back and was standing with the empty in my hand when Ray walked up.

“Easy on that stuff, soldier. Been there, done that and have the T-shirt and the scars to prove it.”

“Hey, Ray. This is Tara and Wendy.”

Ray said hi to them, and then he stared into the blazing fire. “God, this brings back memories,” he said. Then he walked off a few paces into the darkness. When he turned back toward me, I had the bizarre impression he’d been crying. I think he was about to say something to me, something important. But there were shouts.

Genghis slapped Gorbie on the head. They did this all the time. I used to think it was just playing around, but the game escalated quickly. They’d both been drinking quite a bit. Gorbie retaliated by pushing Genghis’s arm up behind his back. But Genghis got out of the hold and tripped Gorbie, who rolled quickly to one side, grabbed his enemy’s legs and pulled him down—right into the fire.

I don’t know how Ray did it, but it was like he had seen each move of this stupid fight in advance and knew exactly what was about to happen. Genghis was falling into the fire all right, but as he neared the flames, Ray was there, reaching out with his powerful arm, grabbing him and pulling him back. Everyone froze.

Ray sat Genghis down by Gorbie on the ground. You could see that his clothes had been charred and you could smell that his hair had been singed. But he was all right. Ray said nothing to them. He walked slowly past me, looking disgusted. “This does bring back old times. And I keep forgetting that some of those old times weren’t that great.”