Moratorium

by Chuck Sampson

When he reached a chest high, cinder-block wall that bordered the sand, he stopped. A cool breeze raised bumps on his tan skin and he hugged himself as he scanned the slategrey Pacific. Smooth, head-high, curls of water, coming in from the south, rolled over and over, one after another. Too rough for a swim, he concluded.

  As he started back to his car to retrieve his shirt, the sound of a sharp whistle stopped him. When he turned his head, he spotted two pretty girls jogging down the walkway. The shorter one with long, raven black, hair and coal colored, tear-dropped eyes, he recognized instantly as Kwan Li, his supervisor at Chevron. He worked as a geophysicist in her department.

  The tall blonde with her appeared familiar. Once she got a few feet closer he remembered her -Deidra Jones, his old girlfriend. He never expected to see her at the beach, especially with Kwan Li. Two more opposite personalities could not be imagined. He hadn’t seen Deidra since his accident. He hoped she was past him and had a new life; otherwise he could be in for an awkward and embarrassing confrontation. Once they reached him, they slowed down to a walk.

  “Dana! What happened to you?” Kwan circled behind him as she spoke.

  “Nothing so far, but it’s still early.” He looked over his shoulder at her. She pointed to a long mark running from the base of his neck to the middle of his back.

  “How did you get your scar?”

  “A few years ago I slammed into a pile of rocks surfing out at Rincon Point,” he said.

  “You surf? I don’t believe you, a surfing geophysicist- no way.”

  Deidra and Dana laughed and shook their heads.

  Kwan walked back from behind him, stood next to Deidra, and shrugged her shoulders. “What?” she said.

  “You never heard of Dana Mathers? Like, you truly are a geek, Kwan.”

  “I am a football fan. That’s a real sport.”

  “Dana was like, the youngest winner of the Van’s Triple Crown.”

  “Sounds impressive, what is it?”

  “It’s like, a series of way intense surfing contests. I don’t remember them all. I think there are like, four, right Dana?”

  “Right.”

  “Four events and it’s only a Triple Crown!” Kwan said, “Surfers, go figure-or not.”

  “What do you want them to call it, The Van’s Quad Crown? That’s real catchy.” Deidra said.

  Kwan frowned.

  Dana let out a nervous laugh, much louder than the comment deserved. Any moment he expected Deidra to start in on him for not getting in touch after he left the hospital. He assumed she knew the very moment he had recovered. After all, she worked for a local newspaper called The Messenger and they kept up on his convalescence regularly.

  Every month or so there would appear an opinion piece about whether or not he could get back the surfing ability he had lost and regain his number one ranking.

  “I remember at the Quicksilver I was like, so worried about you Dana,” Deidra said.

  “Oh yeah,” he said, “I'll never forget that day either. Sets of waves with tubes big enough to drive a truck through the middle of them without getting wet.”

  “I can’t believe the contest is actually like, legal,”

  “Remarkable.” Kwan said. “And all this time I thought you were only an engineering nerd who constructed mathematical models of sub-ocean floor hydro-carbon samples.” With her head cocked to one side, she put her hands on her hips, and continued, “So Dana, you gave up the fame and fortune of world championship surfing to work on offshore oil platforms and analyze oil deposits? And you guys say I’m a geek.”

  “Well I didn’t exactly give up the sport. The accident I had at Rincon put me in a wheel chair. I was a paraplegic for nearly two years.”

  “I thought paraplegia was a permanent condition.”

  “So did my doctors. I was just lucky. My paralysis was a cat 4; my nerves were traumatized, but not severed.”

  Deidra placed her hand gently on Kwan’s shoulder, “I need to speak with Dana alone for a moment, if it’s okay?”

  “Sure, tell me about your recovery at work some time Dana,” Kwan said.

  He nodded and smiled back, weakly, realizing that talking about his time in the hospital was probably a mistake. From the tone of Deidra’s voice, he had a feeling he was about to find out just how big a mistake.

  “I’ll only be a minute, Kwan,” Deidra said. She remained beside Dana while Kwan ran ahead and then stopped next to a bench a few yards away and sat down.

  Deidra turned to him and said. “Why haven’t you called me? I’ve waited almost four years to hear from you.”

  “You stopped coming around the hospital. I just assumed-”

  “I visited you every day for six weeks while you were in the hospital and you never spoke two words to me. I stopped coming to see you because I thought that was what you wanted. Why didn’t you ever call me?”

  “I didn’t know what to say.”

  She folded her arms and said, “Well, you might have said ‘Hi this is Dana, I am finished with my rehab. Now I would like you to call me. Here’s my number’.”

  “I am lot different, now.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t hang with Piggy or any of the guys. I work all day on computer algorithms. I don’t party and I don’t surf anymore.”

  “So? I don’t surf, I never felt comfortable going to the beach, actually. The only reason I am, like, here this morning is Kwan.”

  “Yeah, I remember, the only time you ever came to the beach with me was for the contests-”

  “I only came for you,” she said as she put her arm on his shoulder and drew closer. A gust of wind blew her white blonde hair across her face.

  Dana felt a wave of despondency course through him when he saw the tears well up in her eyes. He realized he had been unfair, but it couldn’t be helped. She was part of his past now.

  “Those six weeks,” she continued, “were the hardest weeks of my life.”

  “Well they weren’t the best times for me either.”

  “You wouldn’t even speak to me.”

  “I didn’t speak to anyone.”

  “You spoke to Kelsey Tanner. Mike tells me she has you on a pretty short leash.”

  He lowered his head and said, “I guess I was too afraid to tell you about me and Kelsey.”

  “Well she was your nurse. It happens a lot.”

  “I thought I was never going to walk again. I wanted to keep you from the hell I was going-”

  Before he could finish she hugged him tightly and said, “I am not stupid, Dana. It’s O.K., I’m glad for you. Are you in love with her?”

  Her question surprised him and he turned his gaze out toward the ocean. She’s not making this easy for me, he said to himself. But then again, it’s probably not easy for her either. He turned to her and said aloud, “Yes, I love her. I hope you can understand.”

  She took him by the hand, “I meant it when I said I was happy for you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Deidra turned to go, then she stopped. Turning back to face him she said, “Do you ever miss me?”

  “Of course. I am really glad we met again.”

  “I missed you too. I miss showing all my girlfriends the stories about you winning surf contests in the paper.”

  “Well now that I don’t surf, there’s no chance of me being a news story.”

  “You’re wrong, Dana. You’re a town hero. Anything you do is news around here.”

  “Newspapers are always harshing my mellow- way too negative. I read The Messenger, though. That reminds me, what happened to your column?”

  “Your new sweetheart’s brother axed it.”

  “Mike can be a jerk sometimes. I liked Occupations around Town; all those cool stories about people with unique and dangerous professions.”

  “Thanks, too bad you aren’t the Senior Editor. Mike told me I had to pick ecology related jobs-boring. I told him to write his own ecology column and he like, fired me.”

  “Wha
t a kook.”

  “I didn’t mind, really. It like, gives me more time for my art. I’m working for a special effects guy who lives on Rincon Beach.”

  “That’s way cool, Deidra. So, how do you know Kwan?”

  “I met her at the job fair Chevron held at the Ventura Theater. She was looking for a new administrative assistant. Maybe I can get a full time job from her.”

  “Work at Chevron? I would go for the special effects job a lot more.”

  “Yeah, I do, but it’s only now and again and he can’t pay me enough to keep the bills paid.”

  “Hey, Deidra,” a voice said. It was Kwan Li. She had gotten up from the bench and jogged back over to where they were standing. “I’ve got to go to work now. It’s getting late, besides I’m freezing up just sitting around.”

  Deidra stuck out her hand to him, “Friends?”

  “Sure, Deidra, we’ll always be friends.”

  “Say hello to your nurse Kelsey for me.” Deidra turned away and started down the walkway, “I’m coming Kwan.”

  That could have been a lot worse, he said to himself as Deidra and Kwan resumed their run south along the boardwalk. I hope Kwan doesn’t hire her and the special effects guy gives her plenty of work, he said to himself. He didn’t relish the idea of having his ex-girlfriend as a co-worker-especially one as pretty as Deidra.

  Another strong gust chilled him and he remembered his tee shirt. He returned to his car, put on his gym top, and then jogged back to the sidewalk. In the distance, to the north toward Surfer’s Park, he recognized the slim, wet-suit clad figure of Kelsey’s brother, Mike. He recognized the black Ford 350 truck and the short, Channel Islands, performance surfboard.

  “Oh man,” he said to himself aloud, “What the hell is he doing here?” He thought about going back to the car and bagging it in and then decided not. No way, he said to himself, I am not going to let Kelsey’s little brother spoil my work out. Besides, I’ve invested twenty minutes of driving time to get here.

  Across the walkway from Mike, four of his former surfer-mates stood near the edge of the small cliff leading to the beach below. The Stern brothers, Kevin-or Piggy, and Mitch-also known as E-man, sat next to each other on a giant, light-amber boulder that rose up like a lonely book end. Piggy was taller and had coarse, sandy, locks. The moniker “Piggy” came from his habit of hogging waves. They both were toughened and strengthened from years of surfing and working offshore as roustabouts on the oil rig, Platform Irene.

  The big man, Sherriff Rick Starling, who everyone called Gnome, stood near the edge of the walkway with his wet suit halfway on. The short man in the middle of the group was Roger, the Rogue, Martinez. Roger had picked up the nickname Rogue from his habit of cherry picking the best waves out of every set.

  “The big mama is fully mackin' some gnarly grinders!” Rogue called out in the best Australian accent he could muster, “This is going to be an all-time surf session, brah!” Rogue crouched down into a classic Quasimodo stance; he jumped straight up and turned around in mid air as he spoke. When he landed, he directed his gaze right at Dana and said, “Hey, get your stick and come on out!”

  “Aikona, brah, I am still in rehab.” he said waving back.

  Gnome spun around and grabbed his protruding belly with his gorilla sized hands. He shook the spare tire that circled his waist and shouted, “Hey Dana, I’m doing my rehab scrutin cheeseburgers down at the old In-N-Out. I got to keep up my floatation capacity!”

  “I think you’re done rehabbing Rick,” Rogue patted Rick’s girth carefully; “You’ve got enough flotation to start a cruise line.”

  Rick made a mock sad face. Everyone else laughed.

  E-man and Piggy headed back to their car in the adjacent parking lot to get their boards. On the way, E-man turned around and yelled out to Rogue, “I feel sorry for you man, you know Rick is gonna’ get you back; we call him the evil, trickster Gnome, remember?”

  The cool ocean breezes coming out of the west stopped abruptly. Within a few moments the hot gusts the locals call “devil winds” picked up in velocity. The warm winds from the east carried the pungent stench of fertilizer from the nearby strawberry fields.

  A strong burst of air lifted Mike Tanner’s surfboard, which he had left sitting loose on the top of his truck. It slid off and landed on the hood. The ensuing loud smack and rumble his stick made on its journey downward attracted everyone’s attention. Before Mike could reach the board, it slammed hard against the concrete. Everyone moaned.

  “What a waste.” Rogue said.

  “He’s as clumsy on shore as he is out in the water.” Gnome shook his head and sighed.

  Mike picked up his custom made, very expensive, surfboard and ran his hands over its rail. “Look at this ding;” he said, glancing at Dana, “I’ll never buy a cheap Channel Islands board again.”

  “What’d you expect; you left it sitting loose on the top of your truck.” Rogue said. “What a barney.”

  Gnome pushed the tip of his finger gently against Dana’s chest and said, “Man, letting Mike have a nice board like that- it’s like letting a chimp drive a Mazerati.”

  With a nod back to Gnome, he resumed his jog northward, toward the riverbed. He hoped he could get past Mike without an incident, but before he was more than a few yards down the walkway Mike called out to him,

  “Hey Dana,” he said, “You need to limp a bit better if you want Kelsey to pity you. You know that’s the only reason she likes you.”

  “Is that so, Mike?” he replied, keeping his gaze straight ahead, “look at you, you’re as lame as they come, and she doesn’t like you.”

  An instant later, Dana caught sight of Mike closing in on him out of the corner of his eye; he stopped jogging and turned to meet him with a grin.

  “Don’t get too close, I’m not feeling at all charitable-especially towards you.”

  Mike stopped at arm’s length and said, “Leave my sister alone, oil pimp.”

  “Mind your own business,” he said as he resumed his run.

  “My sister’s business is my business.” Mike said as he jogged beside him.

  “She doesn’t think so, and neither do I.”

  “You need to find another woman, roughneck. You need to find someone from you own low life class. I know the perfect match for you Dana, Deidra. And she’s a cripple too, the same as you-except her handicap is mental, not physical.”

  With the swift move of shark, he snatched a handful of Mike’s wet suit and cut short his mocking laughter. He pulled him in close, only inches from his face. His cheeks flushed red, his nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed as though he were trying to focus on a microbe. “You ever say anything like that about Deidra Jones again and I’ll kill you,” he said, not loud enough to be a shout, but even in the devil winds, everyone standing nearby heard him.

  He twisted Mike’s wetsuit so tight he made him choke. When he pushed him away hard, he set him down on his back, flat across the sand next to the walkway.

  As Dana turned to leave, he espied a homeless man sitting on a nearby bench. The penurious alley dweller smiled as he passed, revealing his yellow, gapped teeth. Then he brushed back his long, oily, brown hair with his dirty, long finger nailed, hand and said, “Better duck.”

  Dana flinched when he felt Mike’s fist graze the side of his head. Mike took two more wild swings, hitting nothing but air. He noticed Rogue and Gnome moving in on either side. Mike lunged at him. Dana caught both of his child sized hands in his. His grip tightened until Mike couldn’t move and he began to push him down to the ground. Before he finished, Rogue and Gnome arrived, grabbing each of Mike’s arms. Once they had him contained, he let go. He was smiling at Mike the whole time, who was by then sucking wind so hard his face had turned red.

  “Why are you protecting him? He’s an ocean rapist.” Mike pointed again and again at him over the Gnome’s head as he pushed him away. “He doesn’t care about saving the beach. He is helping the little Eichmann’s at Chevron
destroy the earth.”

  “Be careful, Gnome” Dana said, “He sounds like he is in the throes of some kind of eco-spiritual fit.”

  Gnome grabbed Mike by his pipe-like arms, picked him up six inches off the ground, and like an abusive parent disciplining his three-year old, shook him until his jaws rattled. He let go his gorilla-like grip and chided him, poking him in his chest for emphasis, “You forget I’m a county sheriff? If you hit Dana, I’ve got to run you in for assault, and do a lot of time consuming paperwork. I don’t want to miss this surf session, get it?”

  Mike nodded and sat down in the sand next to his board, still staring at Dana and rubbing the soreness out of his wrists. Gnome headed for his car and his surfboard. Dana turned away and continued jogging along the walkway, north toward the river mouth.

  “That was a regular WWF smack down, Brah,” Rogue said as he trotted slowly beside him, “The way you caught Mike’s hands in mid air, I think you are stronger now than you were before your accident.”

  “He’s too small to fight. Next time I’ll let his sister kick his butt.”

  Rogue nodded. “Like a Chihuahua, little, bug-eyed, runts that run around barking and snarling at dogs three or four times their size- that’s what I’m going to call him from now on, Chee -for chee wah wah.”

  He laughed and then he said, “Funny one Rogue. I don’t think he approves of my new career, or my dating his sister.”

  “I could tell. Good to see you again, especially without a wheel chair. That’s where you were the last time we met. When was that, four years ago?”

  “Three years, Rogue. By the next year I was walking. I guess I should’ve been better at keeping in touch.”

  “No problem, man. Where’d you go after you finished your therapy?”

  “Finished? No way. My left leg is partially paralyzed.”

  “Are you still surfing?”

  “The leg’s too stiff.”

  They jogged for awhile in silence.

  “Mike’s scared,” Rogue said. “He told me someone is following him. I think that’s why he jumped you.”

  “No, he jumped me because he doesn’t think I am not good enough for Kelsey.”

  “True, brah, but he also knows you won’t really thrash him because you wouldn’t want to upset his sister. Still, I am telling you man, that Chihuahua is about to get tombstoned, big time.”