Catching Waves (2 page)

Kai looked at the beach—and gulped.

Roger had made it to shore. But as he bent down to remove his leash, three surfers converged on him. Roger stumbled. He abandoned
his board and started sprinting up the soft sand. Two of the surfers pursued him. Even at this distance, Kai could hear them
shouting. They sounded like hound dogs baying after their quarry. The third surfer grabbed the abandoned board as if to steal
it. But a hugely muscled man—Roger’s bodyguard, Kai figured—stopped him.

Kai hung his head. “Oh, man, I am so sorry, Vaughn. I guess I messed up, huh?”

Vaughn snorted. “You
think
?” He gave Kai one last reproachful look then grabbed the next wave, riding it in to shore on his stomach.

Kai stared after him, his face hot with shame. “I guess this means I’m not getting into his next movie,” he mumbled in a lame
attempt to make himself laugh.

It didn’t work.

K
ai caught a few more waves, but his heart wasn’t into surfing anymore. Finally, he gave up. That’s when he noticed how low
the sun was in the sky.

Oh man
, he groaned inwardly.
If I don’t hurry, I’ll have to lug
my
board home by myself
!

Kai and his father had an arrangement. Mr. Ford worked a block away from the beach. On the days that Kai planned to surf,
Mr. Ford brought Kai’s board to work with him in his truck. Kai picked up the board on his way to the beach. When he
was done surfing, he carried his board back to the truck and rode home with his dad. If Kai was more than ten minutes late,
however, Mr. Ford assumed he’d gotten a ride with someone else. That wasn’t always the case, unfortunately. Sometimes Kai
just lost track of time.

Kai had once asked his father why he couldn’t just drive the truck down to the beach and pick him up. His father had replied
that he wasn’t interested in chasing him down every afternoon. “You want a ride, you get yourself and your board here on time,”
he’d said.

With that in mind, Kai surfed directly into shore on the next wave. He hurried out of the water and up the beach, pausing
a second to take off the leash and grab his towel and sandals. He stopped again in the hose-off area, where he splashed water
all over his board and then turned the hose on
himself. When he’d removed most of the salt from his body and his board, he draped his towel around his neck, tucked his board
under his arm, and speedwalked the block to his father’s truck.

He was too late. The parking spot where the truck had been earlier was empty.

“Drat!” Kai muttered. He leaned his board against a fence rail and glanced around, hoping to see someone he knew who might
offer him a ride. But the few people he saw were unfamiliar. With a sigh, he hoisted the board under his arm again and began
to trudge home.

This day just gets better and better
, he thought sarcastically.

His usual route took him on a wooden boulevard with gift shops and fast food restaurants. His favorite place was a seafood
joint called the Shark Attack. As he walked by it, the smell of fried fish made
his mouth water. He wished he had his wallet with him, but it was in his backpack, which he had left in his father’s truck
when he’d picked up his board earlier.

He was wondering what his father was making for dinner, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of rock music. He
stopped and looked around. Then his eyes widened in surprise.

Two doors down from the Shark Attack was a shop that had been closed for months, its plate-glass windows soaped up so passersby
couldn’t see inside. Now, however, the windows were clear. Kai grinned for the first time in an hour when he saw what was
inside.

Gleaming surfboards of various lengths and widths lined one window. In another, rash shirts, leashes, and wet suits dangled
on hangers. Next to the door was a railing with a sign that read “Park Your Board
Here.” Above the open doorway was a banner announcing the grand opening of the Seaside Surf Shop. The rock music Kai had heard
was coming from the shop.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, Kai followed the music. He parked his board then stepped inside the shop. It took his eyes a
moment to adjust to the dim light. When he could see better, his grin grew even wider.

“This,” he said out loud, “is paradise.”

“Glad you think so,” came a voice from behind him. “I kind of like it here myself.”

Kai spun around to see a woman emerge from the back of the store. She was carrying an armload of surf booties and smiling
pleasantly. “Let me know if you need help with anything.” She started stacking the booties onto a shelf.

“Uh, okay,” Kai mumbled, embarrassed to have been caught talking to himself. He
picked up a pair of neoprene gloves and started to tug one on.

The woman frowned. “Just remember, you break it, you buy it.”

Startled, Kai pulled the glove off. He edged toward the door. “Sorry”

The woman broke into a hearty laugh. “I’m kidding. Except for those tacky snow globes over there,” she said, nodding her head
at a display near the cash register, “I don’t think there’s anything here that can break. Really. Look around all you want.
Touch stuff all you want, too.”

Kai relaxed and did as she suggested. He was no expert, but to his eye the store was stocked with quality equipment—except
for the snow globes, which
were
pretty cheesy looking. He sneaked a peek at the woman. She was tall, tanned, blond, and athletic looking. Even stacking booties,
her movements were graceful. She was strong,
too, Kai realized as he watched her move a tall wooden bookcase with ease. He concluded that she was a surfer or at least
had been a surfer at one time. He decided to see if he was right.

“So, um, you do much surfing around here?” he asked.

“Nope. You?”

“Yeah, I ride the waves right out at the beach here.” He picked up a snow globe and shook it. Fake snow floated down on a
mermaid sitting on plastic coral. “So, where
do
you surf?”

The woman walked behind the counter. “What makes you think I’m a surfer?”

Kai raised his shoulders. “You just seem like one, that’ all,” he said.

She grinned. “You’ve got good instincts.” She leaned on the counter. “I used to surf. Now I own a shop. What’s your name?”

“Kai, Kai Ford,” he said. he stuck out his
hand. As she shook it, Kai noticed a scar running up her arm.

“Hey, did you get that scar surfing?” he asked.

She withdrew her hand. “Yes,” she answered.

“I’ve got a scar from surfing, too,” Kai said. “I took a digger on a rock covered with barnacles. Is that how you got yours?”

“Mmmm,” she mumbled.

Kai wasn’t sure if that was a yes or no. He was about to ask her more but she changed the subject.

“So, your name is Kai, as in the Hawaiian word for ‘the sea’?”

Kai nodded. “Now I know you’re a surfer. Only someone who surfs—or speaks Hawaiian—would know something like that!”

“
Used
to surf, Kai. Used to surf.” She ducked under the counter.

Curiosity tickled his brain. Why, he wondered,
didn’t she stiff anymore
? Looking around, it seemed obvious to him that she was still into the sport. And she certainly seemed physically fit.
Was it something to do with the scar
?

She straightened up and put a stack of papers on the counter. “Tell me, Kai, are you any good at surfing?”

Kai shrugged. “I’m not bad. Not the best, but not the worst.”

“Can you do any tricks?”

“Some.” He ticked off the maneuvers he could do on his fingers. “I’m pretty good at catching air, so I can do different grabs.
You know, stalefish, indy, double, things like that. My floater reentry and snaps aren’t bad, either.”

The woman nodded appreciatively and handed him one of the papers. “I’m sponsoring a surf contest for kids this weekend.
The winner gets a gift certificate for any of the merchandise you see here.” She made a grand sweeping gesture with her arm,
like a game show hostess showing off a fabulous prize. “I thought you might like to enter.” “And,” she added, waggling her
eyebrows mischievously, “I thought you might tell your surfer friends to visit the shop, too. To pick up an entry form, that
is!”

Kai had been in a few surf contests before. He’d never won first prize, but he’d always enjoyed being part of the competition.
He looked around the shop again. Maybe this time he’d get lucky and surf his way to a pair of neoprene gloves or a new leash
or maybe even a second board!

He started to fold the paper when he realized he didn’t have any place to put it. His backpack was at home by now and while
his swim trunks had pockets, they were still damp. The paper would just get wet. And
he already had to carry his board and his towel.

The woman seemed to understand his dilemma. “Hold out your arm and roll up your sleeve,” she instructed. Mystified, Kai did.
She pulled the top off a marker and wrote down a Web site address on his skin. “You can download the entry form from this
site,” she said. She put the cover back on the marker. Then she stopped and, staring at the marker, gave a cry of dismay.

“Oh no! Permanent marker!”

“What?!” Kai looked at his arm in horror, certain that he’d be stuck wearing the Web address forever.

“Made you look!” the woman said, laughing. “Don’t worry. It’ll come off with soap and water. Just be sure to write the address
down before you wash up for dinner!”

“Dinner! Oh my gosh! My dad’s going to kill me if I don’t get home!” Kai said.
“Thanks for the info about the competition. Great store. See you again!” He hurried out the door, grabbed his board, and jogged
the remaining blocks back to his house, sandals slapping on the pavement and towel bouncing around his shoulders.

H
ave a nice run?” Kai’s father looked up from the grill, a smile on his lips. The smile widened when he saw the sweat rolling
down his son’s face. “Lost track of time again, huh?” he said.

Kai was so out of breath he could only nod.

“Why don’t you hit the shower before dinner? I’ll throw a burger on for you when I hear the water stop.”

Kai nodded again then carried his board inside the mudroom and leaned it next to
his father’s longboard. He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Just as he was about to strip down, he remembered
the Web site written on his arm. He padded back to his room and jotted the address on a scrap of paper. In the shower at last,
he sudsed the writing and his sweat away.

The smell of dinner made him dress in a hurry. He had been hungry when he stopped at the surf shop. Now he was famished!

He pulled the condiments from the refrigerator and put them on the table just as his father came in from the deck with a plate
of burgers. Kai grabbed the top one, slathering the meat with ketchup and mustard. He added a pickle slice, capped it with
a bun, and took an enormous bite.

Mr. Ford followed his son’s lead. “Anything
interesting happen today?” he asked as he started eating.

Kai looked up. He’d nearly forgotten the problem he’d caused at the beach earlier. He wondered if his dad had heard about
R. William being there. It was possible—after all, his father worked close to the beach.

But his father didn’t seem to be asking about anything in particular. So Kai decided not to mention what had happened. Instead,
he finished chewing and said, “Well, there’s a new surf shop on the boulevard. It’s got totally cool stuff. And the woman
who owns it is holding a competition on Saturday. The winner gets a gift certificate to her store.”

“Interesting,” his father said. “Are you going to enter?”

“Probably,” Kai replied. “She gave me
the Web site address where I can download an entry form. I bet the site shows stuff from her store, too. Want to take a look
at it with me after dinner?”

“Sure. I could use some new supplies myself.”

Although Mr. Ford had given up his career as a professional surfer more than a decade ago, he still loved riding the waves.
Kai had grown up hearing tales about his father’s “golden days of surfing,” as he put it. The stories were set in exotic surf
spots like Sunset Beach (in Hawaii), Kirra Point (in Australia), and Puerto Escondido (in Mexico). Kai hoped to visit those
spots one day.

After dinner, Kai and his father tidied the kitchen then carried their desserts (big bowls filled with ice cream) into the
office. Kai logged onto the Internet and typed in the address the woman had given him.

A moment later, the screen was filled with an image of the surf shop’s front door. Kai clicked on the door. The sound of rushing
water came out of the computer speakers as a simulated wave washed away the door to reveal the interior of the shop. A line
of text invited him to click on any of the merchandise to see what brands the store carried. Kai and his father looked at
a few things, then Kai moved the curser to a graphic labeled “Surf Contest.” When he clicked on it, the shop interior dissolved
into a copy of the entry form the woman had given him earlier.

Kai was about to click on PRINT when suddenly his father grabbed the mouse from him.

“Hey!” Kai cried, startled. “What gives, Dad?”

M
r. Ford didn’t answer. He had moved the cursor to a line of text near the bottom of the page and was trying to click on it.
But it was just text, nothing hidden within it.

“‘Sunny Pierce,’” Mr. Ford read part of the text aloud. “I wonder …” He had a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes.

Kai waved a hand in front of his father’s face. “Hello? Dad? Are you still in there?”

Mr. Ford seemed to shake himself back to the present. He turned to look at his son. “Say, Kai,” he said, his voice sounding
overly
casual to Kai’s ears, “what did this woman shop owner look like?”

Kai raised his eyebrows. “Like a surfer, I guess. Blond, muscular, probably around your age, I guess. Why? Do you know her?”