Riptides (Lengths) by Campbell Steph & Reinhardt Liz

Author:Campbell, Steph & Reinhardt, Liz [Campbell, Steph]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2013-10-13T04:00:00+00:00

The waves are sweet and easy tonight. Ryan and Adam stayed on the boat after we docked while me, Deo, and Cohen paddled out into the darkness. It feels like old times, even if this time, Cohen’s board is tricked out with LED’s and the water below us is illuminated in a purple hue.

There’s something incredibly humbling about the ocean. Something that can make me feel both unbound and insignificant at the same time. The power of something so much bigger than me is an incredible rush.

“You remember the stories Pop used to tell us about G-land?” Cohen asks. The three of us are sitting side by side on the middle of our boards, our feet dangling into the calm blackness of the water below. “How the wind would blow offshore and make the swells gnarly as hell?”

I nod. “Dad used to be one rad surfer, huh? Too bad we never got to see him that way.”

Cohen was the one who taught me to surf when we were kids, and my dad taught him——before he became a workaholic and spent his days locked away in his office figuring out how big of a profit he could rake in off of the holiday sale on curio cabinets. G-Land is prime surfing real estate off the coast of Bali that was discovered by some old school surfers back in the early 70s and then turned into a surf camp. The waves there are total world class. Someday, I want to ride them.

“Wait,” Deo says, finally processing our whole conversation. “Padre Rodriguez has been to G-land?”

Cohen smiles proudly and says, “Yep. He was in one of the first core groups to go exploring there.”

“No fucking shit.” Deo’s voice is low with wonder. “No way. That uptight——”

“Easy on the old man. He had his day,” Cohen warns, always protective of our father.

“And what the hell happened to him? Marriage. Kids. All the things that suck your soul,” I joke.

“And in return, you get someone for the rest of your life that will suck your——”

“Alright, Deo, I think it’s past your bedtime, let’s paddle back in,” Cohen says with a laugh.

“One more wave,” I beg, just like when I was a kid and they’d have to scream and threaten to get me out of the water. “This one will be good, I can feel it.”

It’s bullshit, really. The waves are basically nonexistent tonight.

“You know I’m in,” Deo says. “Come on, bro, it’s your last wave as a single man!”

“In,” Cohen says.

We all change direction and paddle further out into the ocean. There’s a tug on the boards as a strong rip current pulls us into a small channel, perfect to get us back into the sets. I push my weight onto the front of my board and duck dive under a set. I close my eyes and feel the wind on me, shifting the current of the particle-charged water below me. I watch the wave forming in the distance and paddle a few strokes closer in my own silent way of calling dibs.

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