them you’re with me.”
Twenty-one
FROM FAR AWAY, surfing looked like a graceful activity, but now that I’d lugged the long, unwieldy board over the sand and was paddling ineffectively, Ben pushing me from behind, it didn’t feel elegant or smooth. Cisco was a different beach from Jetties or Steps. It was on the ocean side, and I realized that what I’d sometimes been calling the ocean at Steps wasn’t the ocean at all. It was the Nantucket Sound, protected and sheltered. Out here, on the southern side of the island, the waves were big. You could feel them rolling in with power and force, pushed from a wild place.
I was lying on the surfboard just like Ben had showed me when he’d given me a little lesson on the sand. We were headed out to beyond where the waves broke. We weren’t even surfing yet, but it was already hard. A big wave, one that I wouldn’t have attempted to body surf, was coming right at us. “Point the nose straight ahead,” he said, swimming right behind. Water crashed over me and filled my nose and mouth. I held on tight to the board, even as my body lifted and slammed back down again. I’d always thought of myself as so courageous, but I felt small. Tiny even. I coughed saltwater.
“You okay?” he asked when we finally got to the place where the water rolled, soft and lilting. Ben held onto the board and shook his hair from his face.
“I’m fine,” I said, even though I wanted to turn around.
“That was kind of big,” he said, “but don’t worry. Once you get up, you’re going to love it. It’s all about trusting the unknown.”
I nodded as if I totally got it, wishing we could just stay right there, drifting and floating in the sun.
“So, what’s going on with you and Amy?”
He sighed. “Nothing.” I raised my eyebrows. “Not anymore. We were together, but it didn’t work out. She’s looking for something I just can’t give.” He shifted so that his torso rested on the board.
“I have this weird feeling she’s really smart. Besides, I think she really likes you. You sound a little insensitive, you know.” I splashed him. He didn’t splash back.
“I came to Nantucket to get away from a complicated situation, not to get back into one.”
“What do you mean?” The afternoon sun was strong. It pressed on my back. “What was your situation?”
“I was engaged,” he said, looking away.
“Really?” I was old enough to know someone who could be engaged? “Like, to be married?”
“Yes,” he said with a sad laugh. “We broke up in April.”
His face shifted into an expression that seemed ancient. Even though I barely knew him, I imagined that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had also looked like this at certain moments in their lives.
I scooted up on the surfboard. “What happened?”
“She cheated on me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He squinted, looking out in the distance. “Okay, a set is coming, are you ready?”
“I guess. Listen, I’m sorry if I brought up—”
“No worries. So, it’s going to be just like I showed you on the beach.” He turned the board around, pointing it toward the shore. “You’re going to paddle, paddle, paddle, and when I say ‘pop,’ you hop up on your feet. Super fast.”
“How will I know if it’s the right time to pop?”
“I’ll tell you,” he said, and I was off. He was pushing me and I was paddling, paddling, paddling. “Pop!”
I tried to stand but hesitated, and when my body froze up, I fell off. I hit the surface and the wave swallowed me. Salt stung my throat as I tumbled, inhaling water. I spat it out as my head popped up, gasping. The leash that tethered me to the board tugged on my ankle, yanking me forward, and I was back under, feeling sand and pebbles and water spinning, churning over me. When I tried to break through the surface again, the board swung back and hit me in the ribs. A second wave rolled in and dragged me backward by the waist.
Stay calm, I told
Twenty-one
FROM FAR AWAY, surfing looked like a graceful activity, but now that I’d lugged the long, unwieldy board over the sand and was paddling ineffectively, Ben pushing me from behind, it didn’t feel elegant or smooth. Cisco was a different beach from Jetties or Steps. It was on the ocean side, and I realized that what I’d sometimes been calling the ocean at Steps wasn’t the ocean at all. It was the Nantucket Sound, protected and sheltered. Out here, on the southern side of the island, the waves were big. You could feel them rolling in with power and force, pushed from a wild place.
I was lying on the surfboard just like Ben had showed me when he’d given me a little lesson on the sand. We were headed out to beyond where the waves broke. We weren’t even surfing yet, but it was already hard. A big wave, one that I wouldn’t have attempted to body surf, was coming right at us. “Point the nose straight ahead,” he said, swimming right behind. Water crashed over me and filled my nose and mouth. I held on tight to the board, even as my body lifted and slammed back down again. I’d always thought of myself as so courageous, but I felt small. Tiny even. I coughed saltwater.
“You okay?” he asked when we finally got to the place where the water rolled, soft and lilting. Ben held onto the board and shook his hair from his face.
“I’m fine,” I said, even though I wanted to turn around.
“That was kind of big,” he said, “but don’t worry. Once you get up, you’re going to love it. It’s all about trusting the unknown.”
I nodded as if I totally got it, wishing we could just stay right there, drifting and floating in the sun.
“So, what’s going on with you and Amy?”
He sighed. “Nothing.” I raised my eyebrows. “Not anymore. We were together, but it didn’t work out. She’s looking for something I just can’t give.” He shifted so that his torso rested on the board.
“I have this weird feeling she’s really smart. Besides, I think she really likes you. You sound a little insensitive, you know.” I splashed him. He didn’t splash back.
“I came to Nantucket to get away from a complicated situation, not to get back into one.”
“What do you mean?” The afternoon sun was strong. It pressed on my back. “What was your situation?”
“I was engaged,” he said, looking away.
“Really?” I was old enough to know someone who could be engaged? “Like, to be married?”
“Yes,” he said with a sad laugh. “We broke up in April.”
His face shifted into an expression that seemed ancient. Even though I barely knew him, I imagined that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had also looked like this at certain moments in their lives.
I scooted up on the surfboard. “What happened?”
“She cheated on me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
He squinted, looking out in the distance. “Okay, a set is coming, are you ready?”
“I guess. Listen, I’m sorry if I brought up—”
“No worries. So, it’s going to be just like I showed you on the beach.” He turned the board around, pointing it toward the shore. “You’re going to paddle, paddle, paddle, and when I say ‘pop,’ you hop up on your feet. Super fast.”
“How will I know if it’s the right time to pop?”
“I’ll tell you,” he said, and I was off. He was pushing me and I was paddling, paddling, paddling. “Pop!”
I tried to stand but hesitated, and when my body froze up, I fell off. I hit the surface and the wave swallowed me. Salt stung my throat as I tumbled, inhaling water. I spat it out as my head popped up, gasping. The leash that tethered me to the board tugged on my ankle, yanking me forward, and I was back under, feeling sand and pebbles and water spinning, churning over me. When I tried to break through the surface again, the board swung back and hit me in the ribs. A second wave rolled in and dragged me backward by the waist.
Stay calm, I told
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