Dawn Patrol

by Jeff Ross

  “Wait a second,” Esme said when we were outside. She opened the front pocket on her backpack and pulled out a photograph of Kevin. “Have you seen this guy?” She handed the picture to Delgado.

  He glanced at it and handed it back. “No. Why?”

  “He disappeared a couple of months back. We’re trying to find him,” Esme said.

  “What makes you think he would be here?” Delgado asked.

  “In January his parents died in an airplane accident on one of the nearby islands.”

  Delgado nodded. “I remember,” he said. “It was a stormy, foggy day. I remember because it was clear first thing in the morning, and then a fog set in and the waves got angry. They were mean that day. Out for blood, some of the locals said.”

  Esme and I stared at a colorful school of fish in the water off the pier. Esme cast her eyes down, but I could see they were glazed. Kevin’s parents were kind, giving people, and Esme was the daughter they never had. She spent more time at Kevin’s house than anywhere else. It was still hard for us to believe his parents were gone. Kevin’s family had always made me feel like family. A heaviness settled on my chest, and I gulped a couple of times to hold back tears.

  Delgado reached down and grabbed my backpack. “Let me show you the hut. How many days do you think you’ll be here?”

  Esme’s damp hair hung across her face. She was working hard at not crying.

  “Until we find him,” I said.

  The hut had two stories. The first was an open space with a barbecue and some chairs. The upper level had a bed, sink, compostable toilet and a giant window facing the water. The sun was starting to set, and a dim orange glow filled the upper level.

  “Ahh, it’s nice in here,” Delgado said. “I like this hut. It’s one of my favorites.” He looked at me. “Oh, man, I almost forgot. The single mattresses are in another hut. Do you want to help me get them?”

  “It’s okay,” Esme said. She pulled her sleeping bag out of her backpack and tossed it on the bed. “This will work.”

  “You sure?” I said.

  “Sure.” She went and sat on the bed with her back to us.

  “All right,” Delgado said. “Stay as long as you like, pay when you leave. Respect everyone and everything around here, that’s all I ask. The jungle, the beach, the waves, one another. Be kind.” He reached out and shook my hand. “And if you need anything, I’ll be next door.” He pointed out the window. From where we were, we could see right into his hut. “There are two restaurants along the beach. But, and I say this as an honorary local, I wouldn’t go much beyond the Purple Parrot.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “This island has its locals. When big waves come in, the island really fills up with surfers and, well, the locals get a little testy.”

  “I can imagine,” I said.

  “Fair enough, right? You wouldn’t want a bunch of tourists invading your backyard either. So stick to this end of the island, and you’ll be fine.”

  The smell of barbecuing shrimp wafted in the window, and my stomach growled. “Is that smell coming from the Purple Parrot?” I said.

  “Special on garlic shrimp tonight.” Delgado smiled again and shuffled out of the hut.

  “He’s not here, Luca,” Esme said without turning around. “We’re never going to find him.”

  I clasped her shoulders. I could feel her trembling. “He’ll be here, Esme. He might not be here yet, but he will be.”

  She shook her head. “How can you know that?”

  I didn’t. I didn’t have a clue where Kevin was. He could be in Australia for all I knew. But I had to believe the lure of these big waves would be enough to deliver him to us. And I needed Esme to believe it too.

  “I don’t know. But we have to hope, right?” I said.

  “I guess.”

  “You know it.” I squeezed her shoulders. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starved.”

  chapter four

  We slept soundly and awoke well rested. The tide rolled in and out beneath our hut. I turned over to find Esme staring at me.

  “You snore,” she said.

  “I do not.”

  “You are the last person who would know it, Luca. So I’m here to tell you, as the only person who has ever shared your bed, you snore.”

  “You’re not the only person I’ve ever shared a bed with.”

  She grinned. “I’m not, am I? Do tell.”

  “I’ll have you know my cousin Jeremy and I used to camp out all the time. And when I went to San Francisco with Kevin last year, we shared a bed.” At the mention of Kevin’s name, we both fell silent. Esme rolled out of her sleeping bag and picked up a sweatshirt off the floor. She walked to the window and gazed at the ocean.

  “I guess we missed dawn patrol,” she said.

  The best waves of the day are often during the early morning tide. Any surfer who rises to catch them is part of what is called the dawn patrol. There’s something mystical about being out in the ocean as the sun is rising. It’s peaceful and different from any other time of day. It feels as though everything is starting over again.

  I slipped out of my sleeping bag and pulled on a pair of shorts. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

  “If Kevin’s here, he would have already been out surfing.”

  I opened my backpack and retrieved a breakfast bar. I had eaten a hundred of these since leaving LA. They weren’t getting any better. “By now he’d be back in bed dreaming of giant waves. Speaking of which, what are the waves like?” I went and stood beside her.

  “Still coming in pretty nice. There are people out on both breaks.”

  I could smell fish cooking somewhere. Birds were calling to one another in the jungle, and the mist from the ocean was fresh and cool on my face.

  “Want to get some breakfast or head straight out?”

  “Let’s go out. I’m not hungry.”

  The waves were rolling in. Four or five waves would come in and break, and then there was an interval of calm. Fish swam beneath our boards, and during one lull I saw a turtle. The waves were a reasonable height, six or seven feet, and curled nicely when they broke. I took the first good wave, rode it out and then sat on my board to watch Esme. She dropped into a seven-foot wave and rode in the barrel, white foam lapping above her. She got ahead of the wave, shot out the end of the barrel and launched herself up and over the backside.

  “Very nice,” I said when she paddled over to me.

  “These are beautiful.” She grinned.

  I was relieved to see her happy. As we paddled back toward the break, I saw the surfer from the day before who hadn’t wanted to speak to us. He was bobbing in the middle of a pack of surfers.

  “There’s that guy from yesterday,” I said. “Think he’ll try to avoid us again?”

  “I don’t think he was trying to avoid us,” Esme said. “It seemed to be more of a language issue.”

  “I’m not so sure,” I said. He hadn’t seemed freaked out by a couple of gringos. He seemed as if he wanted to get away from us. “But, whatever. Let’s go talk to them.”

  Another set came in. The break shifted slightly to the left. We duck-dived through each wave. By the time we got out to the break, there was only one surfer there.

  “Well, hello again,” Alana said.

  “Fancy meeting you out here,” I said. A couple of surfers paddled toward the shore. “Where did everyone go?”

  “They cut to the other break,” Alana said. “It’s bigger over there now.”

  “These are good waves here,” I said.

  “Exactly, and now everyone is gone,” Alana said.

  “Hey, did I see that guy from yesterday out here?” I said.

  “Yeah, he was here. His name is Jose. He’s been out all morning.”

  “Where does he hang out?”

  Alana raised her eyebrow, then glanced at Esme. “Umm, aren’t you two together?”

  I looked at Esme and caught on to what Alana was getting at. “No, we’
re not,” I said. “Nor would I be interested in getting together in, um, that way with this Jose guy. I just wanted to try and talk to him about our friend.”

  “Your friend,” Alana said. Another set came in, and we lay on our boards in case they got bigger. “Right. Still haven’t seen him.”

  “Did Jose go to the other break?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Alana said. “He always goes where the biggest waves are. Or at least that’s what he tells me.”

  There seemed to be another swell coming in. Alana sat up on her board.

  “How about we cross over,” she said. “I was going to stay here for a bit, but there’s no harm in seeing what the other side is like.” She paddled into a wave. “Watch out for the rocks when you get over there. People get mashed on them all the…”

  “What?” I yelled, but she was already on a wave, riding the crest before dropping down the front. I turned to Esme. “What did she just say?”

  “Don’t get killed,” Esme said.

  “Ahh, good advice.”

  “Your wave,” she said, pointing at the next cresting mass.

  I lay down on my board and started paddling. “See you over there.”

  chapter five

  I caught the next wave and found the sweet spot, the place where you can feel the water rolling perfectly beneath the board. The board feels weightless, and all you have to do is stand up as quickly and smoothly as possible.

  I dropped down the front of the wave. It wasn’t curling very well, but it was big and solid enough to keep me moving toward the beach. I carved up and down the front of it, cutting back and forth across the face. I spotted the giant black rocks on the reef closer to shore. The wave started breaking behind me, losing its momentum. Soon it would wear out and slink in to shore. I cut hard across the top of the wave and lay down on my board, but the wave carried me toward the rocks. Alana was ahead of me, paddling through the surf. I paddled toward her and immediately hit rock. When the water rose, I quickly paddled away.

  As I reached the other side of the reef, another wave came in. I duck-dived through it and watched it smash on the rocks. The pull of the ocean yanked me backward, and I paddled hard into the next wave and ended up over the reef again. Alana was cutting across the incoming waves, duck-diving as she went. I tried to follow her, but each wave pushed me farther back. I was used to five- or six-foot waves, and I had never been in such a strong riptide. It actually did seem as if the water wanted to smash me into the rocks.

  Eventually I got outside the break and was able to paddle up beside Alana. “That is not easy,” I said.

  “Yeah, I followed a local across the reef yesterday when I first arrived, and it was tough. If those big swells come in, no one will be making that cut.”

  “You only got here yesterday?”

  “I got to the island the night before and was in the water first thing yesterday morning.”

  So Kevin could be here but just hadn’t been out surfing. I spotted Esme paddling toward us. The waves had died down. The black rocks glistened in the sun.

  “Wow, that’s really shallow,” Esme said.

  Another set of waves, larger than the last ones, crashed in. “You got out of there just in time,” Alana said.

  “Did that Jose guy already catch a wave in?” Esme asked.

  I looked at the line of surfers. They were all facing out to sea, watching the approaching waves, waiting for the perfect one. “No, he’s right there,” I said.

  Jose was lying on his board. He started paddling, preparing to take a wave. He looked our way. It seemed as if he was staring right at me, so I waved. Then the wave rose up, and he disappeared.

  “I’m taking the next one,” I said. “Maybe I can paddle in with him, take him to Delgado’s and show him Kevin’s picture.”

  I paddled into the next wave and caught it at the last second. I was about to drop down the face of the wave and cut away from the giant black rocks when a surfer came out of nowhere. He headed directly at me. I had two choices, smash into him and go under, or ride the wave out in the opposite direction and try to avoid the rocks. I looked back to see who had cut me off. Jose carved to the tip of the wave, then drove back down. I thought he had taken the first wave. What was he doing out here? Why would he wait for another wave when he had a perfect one? And why did he cut me off? He had to have seen me.

  I didn’t have time to think about it. I had to concentrate on staying on my board. The wave was messy. It was big and moving fast, but it was tumbling in on itself at odd points. So instead of being able to ride the wave in, I had to contend with a choppy surface and unpredictable collapsing.

  I tried to get high on the wave in order to pop over the back and paddle away from the rocks. But every time I drove up the wave, it fell in on itself and became a mess of frothing water. I was getting closer and closer to the rocks, and the wave seemed to grow larger and larger. I was already over the reef. The wave was pulling all the water off the reef, leaving only a foot or so beneath me. If I fell, I’d be crushed on the coral.

  I tried to power my way back up the front of the wave. I even considered jumping up to the top of the wave, hoping I could swim away from the rocks. But as I cut up, I lost my balance, and a second later I was flat on my back, the wave crashing on top of me.

  My board shot into the air, and the leash yanked me backward. I sucked in as much air as I could before I went under. When you wipe out, you never know when you will resurface. Sometimes you pop up and have lots of time before the next wave rolls in. Other times you stay under for a full set of seven or eight waves and come up gasping and choking and thankful to be alive.

  I didn’t smash into the reef right away. I got boiled into the wave, rose toward the surface and was slammed back down. I put my hands out to brace myself. I touched something briefly, but was pulled away almost as quickly. A second later, I popped to the surface. I took a deep breath and saw I had been driven to the edge of the break. I was still a distance from the rocks, but the next wave would surely push me closer. I tried to dive through the next wave, but my board caught on something and I was yanked backward.

  The wave crushed me. I felt as if I was in a washing machine set on high. I rolled over and over. I covered my head with my hands. My hands and feet were thrashed against the reef. It felt as though my skin was being shredded.

  I popped up, but couldn’t get a full breath. Then I was under again, rolling and flipping, completely at the mercy of the waves.

  I opened my eyes and tried to figure out which way was up. Everything around me was swirling and seemed to slow down. It was like being in a slow-motion dream where you can see every bit of light, every grain of sand, every cell of every living thing. I watched sand float like dust in the sunlight and followed its slow trajectory toward the surface. Then I swam as hard as I could toward the sunlight. A moment later, I was coughing and spitting out salt water.

  My eyes stung, and my lungs felt as if they were on fire. Another wave was coming in. I grabbed the leash and started pulling the board toward me. The back of the wave pumped me up to the surface. I was right beside the rocks. They glistened in the sun, foam and seaweed sliding down their sides. I managed a single gulp of air before the next wave crashed onto me. I felt as if I was going to be swept in to shore. But then the riptide grabbed me and dragged me out to sea again. I have no idea how far out I went. The last thing I remember seeing was a big rock in front of me.

  After that, everything went black.

  chapter six

  The sky vibrated. Something smelled like peaches and vanilla. There seemed to be a dozen blurry faces swimming above me. Voices surrounded me, not words, just voices. I tried to turn my head, but it was as if my head was in a vise. I closed my eyes and heard my heart beating. It pounded through my body. I was going to be sick. I opened my eyes, rolled onto my side and threw up.

  The voices returned. Louder than before. I could make out two faces above me. One of them was Kevin’s!

 
I tried to speak. But all that came out were bubbles. I rolled onto my side again to spit. When I turned back, the only face I saw was Jose’s. He narrowed his eyes, and then a second later he was gone.

  I coughed up some more water. I felt as though I had been dragged through the ocean with my mouth open, which wasn’t that far from what had happened. I pulled myself up onto my hands and knees. I was certain I had seen Kevin. And Jose. I couldn’t have imagined it. But when I looked around, there was just a guy in a pair of dripping surf shorts holding my broken board in front of him. Kevin and Jose were gone.

  “Are you all right, dude?” the guy asked. He was blond and tanned, and so muscular it looked as if he had snapped my board in half with his bare hands.

  “Who was just here?”

  He tilted his head and rapped on one ear, trying to dislodge some water. “What?”

  “There was someone here,” I said. “Two people.”

  “Yeah, maybe. A couple of guys dragged you in after you totaled on Old Man.”

  “Old Man?”

  “The rocks out there that you flailed yourself into.” He held the two pieces of my board out again. “I got your board for you.” He dropped the useless bits of fiberglass at my feet.

  I sat down and coughed some more. “What did the guys look like?”

  “I didn’t see them, brah. I saw you get totaled, and then two dudes dragged you in to shore. I didn’t see who. I was on my way out. There was a break in the waves, so I grabbed what was left of your board and brought it in. And now I’m going back out, if you’re all right.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m all right.” If I was a sunbather who had been smashed by a wave, people would have gathered around to make certain everything was fine. Surfers generally get left on their own.

  “Cool,” he said and dove back in.

  Esme and Alana ran up. “Luca, what happened?” Esme said.