by Steve Gannon
Bending over the swivel eyelet, Kane finished twisting the shackle pin securing the mooring hawser to the raft. He examined the connection. Satisfied, he coiled the hawser and placed it on the deck. “What happened to the rest of the guys?”
“Banowski’s out of town this weekend, and Deluca has a Little League game with his kid—he’s the coach. The rest of the squad’s busy, too. Everybody said they would be sure to drop by next weekend for the big party, though.”
“Great,” said Kane dryly. He turned to Allison. “I thought you were getting some of your friends to come.”
“I did.”
“I meant boy friends, Allison. Jeez, what’s the deal? Don’t you have any?” Ignoring Allison’s embarrassed blush, Kane turned and inspected the ragtag group assembled around the raft. Allison’s girlfriend McKenzie stood shyly to one side with her twelve-year-old sister, Nancy. Christy, the only friend of Tommy’s who’d shown up, had brought a teammate from swim practice. They sat on the edge of the raft watching Kane—Christy bright and willing, her friend Marsha exuding an aura of typical teenaged surliness and boredom. Nate, the youngest there, sat cross-legged on the sand beside Arnie. All wore swimming suits.
“Anyone else gonna show? Don’t any of you have older brothers?” Kane asked, glancing hopefully at the girls. All solemnly shook their heads.
Kane rubbed his chin, then turned and studied the ocean. The tide had already peaked, and sets of long, rolling waves were steadily marching in from the south. Most appeared to be five to six feet in height, with an occasional eight-footer cresting fifty to seventy-five yards out before rushing in a foamy surge to the shore. Past the breakers he could see McKenzie’s dad, Milt, bobbing patiently on the swells in his Zodiac. Clinging to the hope that more people would arrive later to assist with the raft, Kane had helped him launch the small boat through the waves just before noon. Milt’s rubber vessel had a fifteen-horsepower outboard motor powerful enough to tow the raft in calm water, but was incapable of dragging it out through heavy surf.
“What do you think?” Arnie asked.
“No way,” Kane sighed. “I hate to give up, but you, me, and a bunch of girls just aren’t going to get it done.”
“We can do it,” Nate objected. “Besides, I’m a guy.”
“Let’s give it a try, Dad,” suggested Allison. “The waves are still coming up. If you want the raft out for the party next Saturday, now’s the time.”
“Come on, Mr. Kane,” Christy chimed in. “We might surprise you.”
Kane shrugged doubtfully, then looked over at Arnie. “Okay, partner, let’s see whether we can lift this monster.” He walked to the raft. Bending his knees, he grabbed one of the uppermost beams. Arnie moved to the other side and did the same. Using their legs, they lifted together on the count of three. Although Kane managed to elevate his side a foot, Arnie’s barely cleared the beach.
Unbidden, the children suddenly rushed in. Instantly the raft rose above the sand, as if magically suspended by the sheer force of girlish giggles.
“You kids are stronger than you look,” Kane admitted, shaking his head in amazement. “Okay, put ’er down nice and easy.”
“Surprised you, huh?” said Nate proudly when the cumbersome raft once more rested on the sand.
“Yeah, Pop. This is going to kill you, isn’t it?” Allison added with a smirk. “Having a bunch of lowly girls launch your big manly raft.”
“Hey, I’m not that way,” said Kane. “I’m pragmatic. Life hands me lemons, I make lemonade.”
A disgruntled murmur rose from the assembly. With a chuckle, Arnie sat on the raft and regarded his partner with a look of amusement.
“I don’t know which I object to more—being called a lemon or a lowly girl,” remarked Christy.
“Aw, lighten up,” said Kane, studying the surf and noticing a lull between sets. “You all know what I mean. Anyway, now that you mention it, I would like to get this thing floating before the party next weekend,”
“We can do it, Dad,” said Nate.
Kane came to a decision. “Okay, listen up,” he said, his voice increasing a notch in volume, assuming the dictatorial tones of a drill sergeant addressing a squad of raw recruits. “My insurance isn’t paid up this month, so I can’t afford having anyone getting their feet squished, not to mention smearing blood all over my brand-new raft, so here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll pick this thing up from two sides, like we just did. Nobody gets in front or behind while we’re moving it. Once we have it floating in shallow water, I’ll signal Milt out there to start pulling—at which point I want everyone back on shore. Arnie and I will stay with the raft and help paddle it through the waves. Any questions?”
“Yeah,” said Arnie, timidly raising his hand. “Where did you get all them great big muscles?”
Everyone laughed. “Screw you, pard,” said Kane with a smile. “C’mon, let’s do it.”
Kane directed his young crew to set the raft down twice on the way to the water, resting partway across the sand and again just before taking it over the berm to the ocean’s edge. With the raft sitting just beyond the reach of the uprushing waves, Kane gauged the shoreline currents and then had the raft moved twenty yards left to the mouth of a dark, angry riptide flowing out through the breakers. Next he resecured all items lashed to the deck: the mooring line with metal eyelets spliced into each end, a come-along winch, a large metal shackle with ten feet of ½-inch galvanized chain, the wooden ladder that would later be bolted to the raft, and two canoe paddles. Finally he uncoiled several hundred feet of light nylon rope and fastened one end to the raft’s swivel eyelet. As he slipped a loop tied in the other end over his shoulder, Christy stepped forward. “Want me to swim that out to the Zodiac?”
“Nah.” Kane donned a pair of swim goggles. “I can get it there quicker.”
With an innocent smile Christy’s friend Marsha asked, “Feel like putting some money on that, Mr. Kane?”
“You want to bet me?” Kane snorted, raising his goggles. “You mean real money, sunshine?”
Marsha nodded. “That’s right, Mr. Kane. Real money.”
“I’ll take a piece of that,” said Allison.
“Me, too, partner,” added Arnie, grinning as the rest of the children began clamoring for a race.
Kane assumed a look of doleful, wounded betrayal at the unanimous outburst. “I guess I’m not surprised at a bunch of young pups trying to pull down the ol’ dad here,” he said. “That’s just natural. Foolish, but natural. But you, Arnie?”
“I’m pragmatic, Dan. Just like you.”
Kane scratched his head and regarded the children uncertainly. “Well, I don’t have the heart to crush your illusions right now, it being such a nice day and all,” he said, suppressing a smile. “That being the case, I think I’ll just let Christy here swim out the line.”
“Boo, Dad,” hooted Allison. Nate quickly jumped in with a clucking sound, spawning a rash of similar catcalls from the rest of the group, including Arnie.
“Okay, Mr. Kane,” Christy laughed. “As you said, it being such a nice day and all, I’ll be glad to.”
Christy entered the water, trailing the yellow nylon line behind her. Using the outflowing rip to assist her through the surf, she dived cleanly under each approaching wave just before it broke, appearing on the other side seconds later. Once she was past the break, her long, powerful strokes quickly ate up the distance to the Zodiac. Soon she and Milt had the line secured to the rubber boat’s transom, and within fifteen minutes she had returned to the beach.
“Great work,” admitted Kane when she arrived. “Couldn’t have done better myself. Now for the hard part. But before we start, I have a question,” he went on, turning to the other children present. “Has anyone here ever had the shore-break slam a loose surfboard into their shins?”
Several heads nodded.
“Hurts, doesn’t it? Well, once we get this monster in the water, the surf will do its best to shove it back onto
the beach, and if you’re in the wrong spot, the result will be a lot worse than bruised shins. Whatever you do, stay on the sides of the raft and don’t get behind it.” Kane regarded everyone in turn, making sure each of them understood, and then continued. “Now, listen up, because once we start, I won’t have time to be explaining things. First off, we’ll get the raft in the water just enough to get her floating, but not too deep. We’ll hold her there and wait for a break in the sets, ready to go as soon as there’s a lull. During this time we’ll have to hold her steady, because the incoming waves will try to knock her back and the rip current will try to take her out in between. When I say go, Milt’s boat will start pulling, and everybody but Arnie and I will head for the sand. One more thing,” Kane added gently, looking at McKenzie’s younger sister. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Nancy,” the twelve-year-old answered.
“Once we get the raft to the water’s edge, that’s as far as you and Nate go.”
“Aw, Dad,” Nate complained.
“That’s an order, small fry. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll stay with Nate,” Nancy promised.
“Good. Then let’s do it.”
Arnie took a position opposite Kane. The others filled in on both sides, and they quickly had the raft floating in knee-deep water. Holding it there quickly proved more troublesome that Kane had expected. As predicted, wash from the waves pushed it shoreward, then the outflowing rip pulled it the other way—only much more forcefully than he’d thought. Although the group fought to maintain the raft in the shallows, it soon became apparent they had made a mistake.
“We can’t hold it,” Kane yelled over the roar of the surf. “Get it back on the sand.”
Too late. The raft surged seaward. Without warning, the entire group found themselves in waist-deep water, unable to control the formidable mass of the raft. “Let it go!” Kane bellowed. “Let it go!”
Kane and Arnie stayed with the raft as the children retreated toward shore. Once they were safe, Kane surveyed the incoming swells, spotting a break. Waving his arm, he signaled Milt in the Zodiac to start pulling. “It’s now or never,” he hollered over at Arnie. “Let’s go!”
The yellow line tightened. As the raft began to lumber slowly seaward, Arnie and Kane climbed aboard and started paddling, attempting to give the raft enough momentum to break through the waves.
The first swell crested forty yards out. Its wash staggered the raft without stopping it. The second broke closer in, nearly stripping away the two men clinging to the deck. Gasping for breath, Kane and Arnie strained at their paddles, fighting to propel the raft over the next wave. Suddenly Kane saw a small head bobbing beside them in the water.
Nate!
Reaching down, Kane grabbed a handful of curly red hair and dragged his son on deck just as another wall of swirling foam crashed over the front. Despite the tug of the Zodiac and the pull of the rip, the raft stopped dead in the water. “Oh, no, look what’s coming!” Arnie shouted.
Kane’s heart fell. The next wave, easily the largest of the day, rose before them—a mammoth wall of furious shining green, spray flying from its crest.
“Paddle, Arnie, paddle!”
But even as the two men struggled to drive the raft toward the onrushing wall of water, Kane knew they weren’t going to make it. As the toe of the wave reached them, the raft staggered like a punch-drunk fighter. Slowly, it climbed the unbroken face as the surge lifted it like a toy … higher, higher … the deck tilting skyward at an impossible angle …
“It’s gonna flip!” Kane yelled. “Jump!”
Arnie bailed off one side. Kane grabbed Nate’s arm and dived off the other. The last thing he remembered before going under was seeing the raft crashing over backward, disappearing under tons of angry, thundering ocean.
“Nate!” Kane screamed when he finally clawed his way back to the surface. “Nate!”
The roar of the surf drowned his calls. He strained to raise his head above the hissing foam, searching for his son.
“There he is!” Arnie yelled from his left.
Halfway to shore, a small form struggled in the surf. Kane took a deep breath and started swimming. In three quick strokes he caught the next incoming wave and slid down the curling face, dropping his right arm and arching his torso, cutting toward Nate. As the huge wave closed out, Kane rolled through, emerging on the churning backside.
A moment later Nate surfaced beside him, gasping for breath. “You okay?” Kane yelled.
“Yeah,” Nate sputtered.
With a surge of relief, Kane grabbed Nate’s hand and kicked for shore. The next wave broke outside, and the next. The four-foot wash carried them all the way to the sand. “I told you to stay on the beach,” Kane said as they stumbled from the water.
“But, Dad—”
“No buts,” Kane interrupted, his heart still racing. “I swear, if you pull a stunt like that again, I’ll kick your butt so hard, you’ll beat the ambulance to the hospital. What the hell were you thinking?”
“I …”
“You what?”
“I wanted to help you take it out.”
“Nate, I appreciate that, but I ordered you to stay onshore for a reason.”
“I wasn’t scared.”
“This isn’t about being scared, kid. Jesus.”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” said Nate. “I only wanted to help.”
Kane took a deep breath, watching as Arnie exited the water several yards away. “Okay, kid,” he sighed. “Just don’t do anything like that again, all right? If I tell you to do something—like staying out of heavy surf—it’s for your own good. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. If you want to help, help us pull the raft up on the berm and get her flipped. We’re done for the day.”
Driven by the force of the waves, the inverted raft had foundered in the boiling water, then skidded high on the sand fifty yards down the beach. With the assistance of Nate and the girls, Kane and Arnie finally managed to right it. The gear lashed to the deck had somehow survived, along with the line to Milt’s Zodiac. Shortly afterward McKenzie’s sister Nancy returned carrying the paddles, which had washed onshore a hundred yards farther down.
“Thanks for helping, kids, but that’s it,” Kane announced glumly as he knelt to untie the towline. “You all did first-rate work, and I’m proud of you. If the surf dies down, we’ll try again next weekend after the party.”
Allison stepped forward. The other children unconsciously drew together behind her. “Dad, we talked it over,” she said. “We want to give it another try.”
“Now? Not a chance.”
“Come on, Dad. Next time we’ll wait for a longer break in the sets, then float the raft when it’s time to go, not before. That way the rip won’t be a problem. We can do it.” Allison glanced at the other children. “Right?”
“Right,” they agreed.
“Absolutely not,” said Kane.
“There’s no danger if we time it right,” Allison persisted. “I’ve been watching, and I think the breaks in the sets are getting more frequent. And this time all the kids will stay on the beach,” she added with a pointed glance at Nate.
“Damn,” said Arnie. “I’m impressed. Gutsy bunch you got here, Dan. Foolish, but gutsy.”
Surprised, Kane studied the circle of earnest young faces. “Didn’t you all get enough the first time around?”
“The first time we did it the hard way, Mr. Kane,” Christy spoke up. “Allison’s right. If we hold the raft out of the rip until it’s time to go, we can do it without any danger.”
“Let’s try,” begged Nate. The rest of the group joined in, clamoring their support for another attempt.
Kane watched the swells for nearly a minute without speaking, noticing that the breaks in the sets did seem to be getting longer. At last he turned to the children. “If we give this another go,” he said, “and I’m just saying if … do
I have everyone’s promise to stay on the beach this time? All of you?”
“Yes, sir,” they answered in unison.
“Nate?”
“I promise,” said Nate solemnly.
“I’ll make sure of it,” said Allison. “How about it, Dad?”
At last Kane relented. “Okay. We’ll give it one more try. But I’m holding you all to your promise. Once we get this thing floating, you kids are back on the sand for the duration.”
“No problem,” sad Allison.
The second attempt proceeded with military precision. The team of children performed their assigned tasks flawlessly, launching the raft into the rip during a temporary lull and quickly returning to the beach as agreed. Assisted by the Zodiac, along with Arnie and Kane’s determined paddling, the outflowing current quickly carried the raft through the breakers. Surmounting the outside waves proved to be touch and go, but they made it. Once past the breakers, Kane stood on the deck and waved at the cheering children on the beach. Then, with a sigh, he sat on the edge of the deck, dejectedly dangling his legs in the water.
After a long moment, Arnie spoke. “You okay?” he asked, having noticed the change in his partner.
“Not really,” said Kane, avoiding Arnie’s gaze. “It was a tough morning.”
“Anything you want to discuss?”
“Later,” Kane replied. “I have to talk with Kate and the kids first.”
“Speaking of kids, that’s one helluva bunch on the beach,” Arnie noted uncomfortably, deciding to change subject. From years of working with Kane, he knew that when the time was right, his partner would tell him what was bothering him, and not before. “They showed real guts coming back for seconds after that first fiasco.”
“You’ve got that right,” said Kane, making an effort to shake off his funk. “I swear, that Nate sure is a little firecracker.”
“Allison, too. By the way, ol’ buddy, was she right?”
“About what?”
“About it killing you to have a pack of kids save your sorry butt.”
“What kills me is listening to your pathetic attempt to get my goat.”