Becoming A Son

by David Labrava

  By now Cooper had come out of the back room. Clyde had some great weed so we all sat down to smoke and plan the surf trip to the South Shore.

  We were pretty stoned when Cooper’s friend Robert pulled in our driveway.

  “Robert’s here.” Cooper and Robert were literally two of a kind, bot totally scandalous and the best of friends. Robert walked in carrying two Surfboards.

  “Hey Coopa. I got em two more boards in the truck. Go and grab ‘em.”

  “Where’d you get them?” Cooper said with a smile. He already knew the answer he just wanted to hear it.

  “Some haolie tourist surfers stopped to check the waves, left ‘em on dey car. I think the saw me unloading them but they didn’t say anything. Must have not wanted them.” Robert and Cooper both found this totally amusing. The truth is those guys were probably on the island for only a few days and left heir boards on their car while they all walked about three hundred feet off the road to check the waves. This is a no-no in Hawaii. Someone better stay with the boards. Like a whole lot of other places on the earth, it’s your job to not get ripped off, and the locals job to rip you off. They probably took one look at Robert at six foot seven and three hundred fifty pounds and figured it wasn’t worth the ass whipping he would have given them. Smart choice. We made a plan to leave at four in the morning, that way we would get to the break before the dawn.

  It’s always easy waking up to go surf. In fact it’s hard to get to sleep because you are so excited. I could barely sleep at all thinking about twenty five foot waves. We piled into my car and drove to Haleiwa to pick up Robert at the pig farm. After attaching the boards to the roof rack Robert got in and we took off. We only drove about a block when Robert pointed ahead.

  “Pull over by that bush.” Robert said. I did exactly what Robert said. In fact everyone did exactly what Robert said. Robert got out of the car and reached over the seven foot bush. You could hear the branch snap as he took off one of the top colas of his neighbors weed plant. He got back in the car with a big smile.

  “Let’s go. Drive to the seven eleven.” Robert handed the bud to Cooper who examined it.

  “You think he will know you took it? Your neighbor I mean?”

  “I hope he does.” Robert said. “In fact I got one job for you this week Hippie.”

  “Cool.” I said already dreading it. I knew if Robert had a job it was scandalous.

  I said not thinking it’s cool at all. Any job with Robert means you could easily end up dead or in jail.

  We pulled up to the seven eleven and Robert handed me the bud. “Go dry this out in the microwave oven.” Microwave ovens were a new thing at this point. I went inside and the guy behind the counter was as big as Robert. He was clean cut, more like a college football type. Robert was much greasier.

  As I walked past the guy he eyed me pretty suspiciously. Here is this long haired hippie kid at four in the morning going straight to the microwave oven. I put the bud in the oven and set the timer for two minutes. After about a minute the whole store started smelling like fresh weed. The big guy behind the counter came over to me and he was not too happy.

  “What you doing? Huh? What you got in that oven? GET OUTTA HERE.”” He told me. I grabbed the bud and high tailed out of the store. The guy sprayed some cleaner inside the oven. I got back in the car and handed the bud over to Robert.

  “This isn’t dry. It’s too wet to smoke.” Now Robert wasn’t too happy.

  “There’s a guy behind the counter as big as you and he told me to beat it.” Robert got a big smile on his face. He loved a confrontation. He looked at Copper.

  “I’ll be right back.” He said with a smile.

  “I bet. Listen, lets not go to jail before we get to surf.” Cooper said.

  “Let’s go hippie.” Robert said to me and we got out of the car. I walked in the store first and the big guy looked at me like I was crazy, until he saw Robert right behind me. Robert walked up to the counter held out the bud to the guy and got right in his face.

  “You mind I dry dis bud in your oven Braddah?” Robert said to him in his kindest menacing voice. The two of them were eye to eye at six foot seven. The guy behind the counter thought about it and caved in.

  “No Braddah. It’s all good.” Robert handed me the bud.

  “Hurry up.” I went and dried the bud and in a few minutes we took off to the south shore, smoking kind bud the whole way.

  We drove through the island in the darkness for about two hours. My car didn’t have a radio, so it was quiet. We pulled into a really rich neighborhood. As we got closer to the break, the waves got louder. It sounded like bombs going of one after another.

  We pulled into a cul de sac and parked. We all jumped out of the car and walked over to the edge. There was a ledge leading down to the water, about twenty feet off the ledge was a big table rock. There were three Hawaiian kids in the water. They were taking off next to the ledge making a bottom turn then coming up over the rock then dropping in again on a twenty five foot face and riding down the line for over a mile. A twenty five foot Hawaiian face is about three body lengths over head. The space between the ledge and the table rock was just wide enough to make a bottom turn then pull it back up and over. Any mistake and you would fall and then get chewed to hamburger meat against the ledge. Or had your body crushed against the table rock. The Hawaiian kids were ripping it. We stood there and watched for a minute. The sun was barely coming up.

  “Didn’t I tell you?” Clyde said.

  “Yeah.” I said. I was definitely a little intimidated by the size of the waves. It was a point break which was good, not a beach break. A point break is peeling down the line, A beach break is a lot heavier, pounding closer to shore, becoming faster and more hollow. Still these waves were rolling in at twenty five feet then peeling down the line for over a mile till they were just over head. They were perfect tubes. I waked over to the wall next to the house, it was a really rich neighbor hood, and took a piss. I turned around and Cooper was standing there with a lit joint, he handed it to me.

  “You can do this.” He said. It was always tough to read Cooper, He could easily be sending me to my doom for his own amusement. He was totally twisted.

  “You think?” I wasn’t too sure. These were for certain the biggest waves I would have ever surfed by far. “It’s really big.”

  “Yeah but it’s a point break. Listen take that Local Motion Swallow tail. It’s really thick and will give you some flotation. Come on we will paddle out together.”

  We grabbed our boards and waxed up. Robert was using one of the new boards he had just took off the rent a car. Joey Muck always used the same board and old lightning bolt spear. Clyde had some Florida board, Cooper always rode Dick Brewer or Owl Chapman boards.

  We got in the water and the waves were rolling in like mountains. I made it passed the rock and sat in the line up. Copper took off on the first wave and was gone Clyde was sitting too far out to catch one. I let a few go buy and then I figured I better take the drop. One thing about surfing, you will conquer your fears or they will conquer you.

  I took off on a monster wave at least twentyfive feet. I made it to the bottom and looked up and I was in awe I just stood there and looked up and watched it scream down the line. The wave broke on top of me and pushed me to the bottom. I was getting clobbered by it, dragged and held under. After being held down for what seemed like an eternity, I made it to the surface and grabbed a mouthful of air. I looked up and Robert was taking off on the next wave, which was another twenty five footer. They were coming in ten wave sets so I knew I was in for it.

  I watched Robert come screaming down the face, he made a bottom turn, pulled up then he saw me in front of him about ten feet. He bailed off his board and got clobbered by the wave. We both were in the spin cycle getting thrashed. I got held about ten feet under until it felt like my lungs were going to burst. I shot through the surface and gulp a mouth full of air. Robert grabbed his board and got on it. I pulled o
n my leash and dragged my board over to me.

  “COME ON HIPPIE. GET ON DAT BOARD.” Robert was paddling towards me as fast as he could. I hopped on my board and paddled as fast as I could. Robert could really paddle fast, he came up behind me and pushed my board. A huge wave broke behind us and a fifteen foot tall wall of white water picked us up from behind and we stayed on our belly’s and rode it to the inside. After it passed Robert paddled over to me.

  “Listen Hippie. There aint no speed at the bottom. Stay closer to the top or you’re gonna get killed. You gotta milk ‘em Hippie. You can do dis Braddah. NOW PADDLE.” That was the nicest Robert ever was to me. He probably didn’t want to go through the red tape it would have been if I had drowned out there. Robert was a straight up criminal. A crankster gangster with no scruples before that term was even invented. Hell, it was probably invented for Robert and Cooper simultaneously.

  We paddled hard and long to not get crushed by the next twenty footer that was coming in. It crashed behind us and we rode on our belly’s for a mile then paddled into the calm water and started the long paddle to the line up. I could see the Hawaiian kids ripping it up. My big wave guru Clyde was still sitting out too far to catch a wave. He wanted to make sure he didn’t get washed up on to the reef.

  “’You likem dat board Hippie?’

  “Yeah it floats me good.”

  “You start catching some waves Hippie and I give you dat board. You can do dis Hippie, you from da shore.” Robert was all about the rep of the surfers from the shore. This was also one of the boards he just took off the surfing tourist car. He didn’t have any attachment to it and he probably figured if I got caught with it I would take the blame. Either way I now had a new board.

  “You just gotta push your self over that ledge of fear.” Robert said.

  When you are looking down the face of a twenty foot monster, paddling so hard with your chin pushing on the deck, you cross through a threshhold most men never cross. The threshold of fear and you have to attack it, live it, conquer it, master it then have none at all.

  We were paddling like banshees as fast as we could. It’s a tricky situation, navigating the oncoming sets and surfers. Diving under big walls of white water, getting beaten and pushed to the bottom, then swimming to the surface gulping a lung full of air grabbing your board and paddling as fast as to get over the next mountain of water coming at you.

  We got back out to the line up. There were about six kids waiting to take off, totally ripping down the line. These were for certain the biggest waves I had ever been in. Thirty feet at the take off point and then you are ripping down the face of a twentyfive foot monster. It continually gets smaller until it is just over your head and you are standing in a head high tube. We got back to the line up.

  “You can do dis.” Robert said again.

  “Yeah you just gotta take off. Push it over the ledge.” Cooper said. “There isn’t any speed at the bottom. Stay on the high line.”

  I looked out to the horizon and I could se a big set looming in. My big wave guru Clyde was sitting so far out there was no way he could catch a wave but I am sure that is what he wanted. He had just got to Hawaii. I let the first two pass knowing if I fall I don’t want to get pounded by the next ten coming after it. I saw one coming in that was all mine. I started paddling as fast and hard as I could. There comes a time you just say ‘I don’t give a damn what happens to me I am taking off’. Looking down a thirty foot monster and paddling as hard as you can to get into it, is a soul searching deal. If the wave passes you by and you don’t catch it you will be pummeled by the lip to the bottom possibly dragged against some rocks or coral heads. Whether you make it or not depends on your level of commitment.

  I could feel it lifting me and I stood up and in one second I knew I had it. I remember what Cooper said, ‘stay on the high line’ so I held it up tight for a while. I came screaming down the face and stood in a tube so big I could have had some one on my shoulders. That day was a monumental day in my surfing career. I conquered a big thing that day, fear. I learned one of the things I could conquer was myself. I just had to want it bad enough. I surfed with my friends all day and then we went back the next two days while the swell was pounding. If you grew up surfing in the United States and reading surf magazines like I did then you remember the big swell on the South Shore. I think it was in the late eighties. A boat called the Tiger 5 was trying to get out of the Ala Moana canal and it capsized. It was big news back then. It was in all the surfer magazines.

  When the swell dropped we went back to the North Shore. On the way back Robert looked at me.

  “You like em dat board Hippie? You like keep em?”

  “It’s cool. I don’t have any money though.” I knew Robert was trying to get money out of me.

  “Thats ok Hippie. You keep dat board. I got job you can help me with. You rode the board good today. Yeah you keep em Hippie. We figure it out later.”

  “Uh. OK Robert.” I knew this was not as good as it sounds.

  These guys were always looking for ways to get money to do drugs when they weren’t surfing. Didn’t really matter what it was they would do anything. They were always trying to get Heroin. Cooper was always talking about how the guys who surfed pipeline really big all smoked heroin. Brown rocks from Bali, China White, it always had these exotic names and had this crazy story and this elaborate scheme attached to get it here. At least a dozen times we went on a wild goose chase with no result after going up and down hotel street in Honolulu all night and either buying bunk or getting ripped off. This time Cooper was determined to find some Heroin. He called this big time Hawaiian Mafia guy he knew named Guy. He made arrangements to go to Makaha and pick up some China White. Supposed to be the cream of the crop of Heroin. Cooper didn’t have a car and he had me drive him everywhere. I wasn’t thrilled to go to Makaha. That’s the west side of the Island. They don’t like Haolies there. Foreigners. Anyone who is not from Hawaii. But they really didn’t like us in Makaha.

  We drove to Makaha and parked outside a big house. Makaha was about an hour from the North Shore.

  “You wait here. I’m gonna go get us some dope.”

  “Uh ok.” He hopped out of the car and left me in the darkness outside a big house on Makaha side, in a neighborhood I have never been in, in a beat up rusted out Volvo with a red ball and the words SURF NAZI spray painted around it. I decided the best thing to do was lay down in the back seat.

  It took Cooper so long I fell asleep back there. He slammed the door and I woke up.

  “Come on lets get out of here.” He said. I could tell there was something different about him. He was wasted like I had never seen him before.

  “Did you get it?” I asked him I was just as eager as he was. It was this fabled drug I had never done but only heard stories about. This is what has been sailing across the seas for centuries. This is what built the railroads in the west. This is what they brought over on the Opium Clippers at the turn of the century. Heroin.

  “Yeah. I got it.” Except for occasionally scratching he nodded out in the passengers seat while I drove us back to the North Shore.

  “Come on wake up. Cooper. WAKE UP.” I had been shaking him for five minutes. He was out cold, sleeping more peacefully than I had ever seen. When he finally came to he was really wasted, he looked like he was bleeding out of his eyes.

  “Lets go. We gotta get some tin foil.”

  “We just got home.”

  “Well we need tin Foil. I told you that.”

  “No you didn’t.” Cooper socked me in the face and we had a two minute, knock down drag out fight till he convinced me we had to go back to the store to get tin foil or we wouldn’t be getting stoned. Everything was extreme with Copper. It was nothing to him or me to fight at a seconds notice or with no provocation we did it all the time. I guess that is the frame of mind it takes to ride forty foot Pipeline.

  We got back from the store with some Reynolds wrap and we sat at the table like litt
le kids.

  “This is what the big boys do. The doo. Do the doo. Do da doo. Do da doo all da day.” Cooper was happy like a little kid as he set up his little tin foil tube to smoke out of. He took outa little bag of light brown powder and poured a little pile on the foil. “This is called Chasing the Dragon.” He said. He then lit a match and held it under the foil. Within seconds it started to move across the foil in a trail of smoke, which Cooper followed with the rolled up tin foil tube inhaling the smoke. He took a big hit and held it as long as he could. He let it out then fell deeper into the couch. I grabbed the tube and foil and without a second thought I did exactly what I saw Cooper do. I took a big hit. It tasted sharp and sweet at the same time. I held it as long as I could and let it out. The only way I could describe the feeling was euphoria. Bliss. I felt as if I had smoked thirty joints at one time, in one hit. I was completely penetrated. I could instantly feel the romance of the drug that caused such a stir over the centuries. It was exotic, faraway, and I felt no pain.

  I think what happens to you in life, who you eventually become is greatly determined by who you are around, who influences you growing up. Who you emulate and want to be influences the choices you make. That’s how I could grab the Heroin and try it without a care. I thought about all those times people said smoking pot leads to dope. I don’t necessarily believe that. It definitely takes an open mind to try anything, but there are some things that take careful consideration. Pot might lead to dope if you are looking for it, or if it comes in your path in the hand of your big wave guru, your friend, or any other circumstance.

  We smoked more heroin on the tin foil for about an hour. We passed it back and forth smoking it like it was a race. Robert showed up and that was pretty much it for me. Robert brought some coke over and him and Cooper cooked it up and smoked the rest of the heroin mixed with the coke themselves. Robert would turn into a monster licking his lips with his eyes bulging out of his head. He was over three hundred pounds so this was a pretty scary sight.