idea.”
“Playing. That’s the key word here.”
“I think so too. And I think that half the monsters you read about in the newspapers started out
playing
with the idea of doing what they did. They toyed with the idea, getting closer and closer, getting used to the concept.”
“You know I don’t want to be giving you any advice, Dave.”
“I know. So go ahead and give me some more advice, now that I know you don’t want to.”
“Well, my advice is that you don’t let Edmund take you along on his bad trip. You know what I’m talking about? There’s something you’ve got to understand about people like my brother—and this is true for any kind of crazy person. You’ve got to get it out of your mind that you candeal with him by pulling him up to your level, you know? You can’t smarten him up. You can’t make him see reason. What he’ll do is drag you down to
his
level, and that’s a cold and lonely place, man. There’s nothing much happening when you’ve only got yourself for company. I’m not big on pity, but Edmund’s kind of a pitiful case when you look hard at him. He actually thinks it’s important that people call him Edmund instead of Ed. He’s got his degree in business, but there isn’t any business he really knows anything about. It’s a generic degree, and he knows it. He’s had a couple of years of martial arts, and he thinks he’s Kung Fu. He shoots mediocre golf. He’s all haircut and Italian shirts and tanning salons. He’s all surface. And he’s
always
been that way, and that’s partly why he’s so full of anger. And now look at you; you’re full of it too, and you don’t have any kind of excuse, except that he poisoned you with it. Am I right? It’s all directed at him, isn’t it? I know it is. I’ve been there.” He opened the truck door and slid out now, and Dave got out too.
“Okay, you’re right about that, at least partly,” Dave said to him. And it was true. Dave had been baiting him with the saw, cutting up ten thousand little bitty pieces of wood in order to drive Edmund crazy, in order to
show
him. But ignoring Edmund was impossible unless you were some sort of Zen master. Or unless you drank a case a day, maybe, which was Casey’s patented method of tolerating the world.
They bought doughnuts and went back out, sitting on the hood of the pickup while they watched the waves break on the north side of the pier.
“Outside,” Casey said, pointing at a set rolling in off the horizon. The fog had mostly burned off, and the morning ocean was glassy and bottle green. There was only a handful of surfers out, and one of them drifted over a small wave, spotted the incoming set, and paddled furiously out to sea. In a moment all of them were stroking hard, trying to make it over the top of the first wave of the set before they were buried by it.
“Big swell,” Dave said.
“Biggest in a couple of years, anyway. Are we on it? It’s still early.” He looked at his watch. “What do you say?”
“Maybe you’re on it. I’m maybe a little out of shape for a swell like this.” Dave watched the ocean intently, avoiding Casey’s glance.
“Right. Try a different excuse. That one’s pathetic.”
“I don’t have a board, remember?”
“So you say. I’ve got a feeling you’ve got something hidden up in the rafters. Anyway, I’ve got one. I’ve got that seven-ten Windansea that I bought from Bill sitting right there in my garage along with my own. That’s plenty of board for this swell.” Usually Casey didn’t push it, but would accept Dave’s excuse and back off. This morning he seemed to want to make an issue of it. “Why don’t we just run down to your place and grab your wetsuit?”
“I sold it, too.”
“When?”
“Last year. Garage sale. Twenty-five bucks. I bought a set of chisels with the money.”
“That sounds like a lie, bro.”
Dave shrugged. “It’s all the same. We’ve been through this before, Case. Nothing’s
“Playing. That’s the key word here.”
“I think so too. And I think that half the monsters you read about in the newspapers started out
playing
with the idea of doing what they did. They toyed with the idea, getting closer and closer, getting used to the concept.”
“You know I don’t want to be giving you any advice, Dave.”
“I know. So go ahead and give me some more advice, now that I know you don’t want to.”
“Well, my advice is that you don’t let Edmund take you along on his bad trip. You know what I’m talking about? There’s something you’ve got to understand about people like my brother—and this is true for any kind of crazy person. You’ve got to get it out of your mind that you candeal with him by pulling him up to your level, you know? You can’t smarten him up. You can’t make him see reason. What he’ll do is drag you down to
his
level, and that’s a cold and lonely place, man. There’s nothing much happening when you’ve only got yourself for company. I’m not big on pity, but Edmund’s kind of a pitiful case when you look hard at him. He actually thinks it’s important that people call him Edmund instead of Ed. He’s got his degree in business, but there isn’t any business he really knows anything about. It’s a generic degree, and he knows it. He’s had a couple of years of martial arts, and he thinks he’s Kung Fu. He shoots mediocre golf. He’s all haircut and Italian shirts and tanning salons. He’s all surface. And he’s
always
been that way, and that’s partly why he’s so full of anger. And now look at you; you’re full of it too, and you don’t have any kind of excuse, except that he poisoned you with it. Am I right? It’s all directed at him, isn’t it? I know it is. I’ve been there.” He opened the truck door and slid out now, and Dave got out too.
“Okay, you’re right about that, at least partly,” Dave said to him. And it was true. Dave had been baiting him with the saw, cutting up ten thousand little bitty pieces of wood in order to drive Edmund crazy, in order to
show
him. But ignoring Edmund was impossible unless you were some sort of Zen master. Or unless you drank a case a day, maybe, which was Casey’s patented method of tolerating the world.
They bought doughnuts and went back out, sitting on the hood of the pickup while they watched the waves break on the north side of the pier.
“Outside,” Casey said, pointing at a set rolling in off the horizon. The fog had mostly burned off, and the morning ocean was glassy and bottle green. There was only a handful of surfers out, and one of them drifted over a small wave, spotted the incoming set, and paddled furiously out to sea. In a moment all of them were stroking hard, trying to make it over the top of the first wave of the set before they were buried by it.
“Big swell,” Dave said.
“Biggest in a couple of years, anyway. Are we on it? It’s still early.” He looked at his watch. “What do you say?”
“Maybe you’re on it. I’m maybe a little out of shape for a swell like this.” Dave watched the ocean intently, avoiding Casey’s glance.
“Right. Try a different excuse. That one’s pathetic.”
“I don’t have a board, remember?”
“So you say. I’ve got a feeling you’ve got something hidden up in the rafters. Anyway, I’ve got one. I’ve got that seven-ten Windansea that I bought from Bill sitting right there in my garage along with my own. That’s plenty of board for this swell.” Usually Casey didn’t push it, but would accept Dave’s excuse and back off. This morning he seemed to want to make an issue of it. “Why don’t we just run down to your place and grab your wetsuit?”
“I sold it, too.”
“When?”
“Last year. Garage sale. Twenty-five bucks. I bought a set of chisels with the money.”
“That sounds like a lie, bro.”
Dave shrugged. “It’s all the same. We’ve been through this before, Case. Nothing’s
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