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Tommy looks back to Isaac and crosses his arms, doing some posturing of his own. “Well, I believe there’s no way to learn like experience. So, get out there and learn. Besides, Sarah will be with you. Just copy her,” he finishes. His expression isn’t exactly hostile, but it certainly isn’t friendly.
Great.
Male rivalry has cost us our lesson.
But apparently, Sarah thinks this is a genius plan. She picks up her board and starts running to the water, calling behind her, “You heard him, guys, trial by fire! Woo!” with that, she’s running over the shallow waves and paddling out.
Conner, Isaac, and I exchange looks. “Well, you heard the woman,” Conner shrugs, “Last one in the water has to ask Parnard what kind of cologne he uses,” he yells as he takes off after Sarah.
“Oh, hell no!” Isaac yells as we chase him.
We quickly catch up to Conner and beat him to the water.
I’ve taken up jogging every now and again since moving here. I’m still not a runner, but I’m not as painfully out of shape as I used to be.
“Dang it,” Conner exclaims as he hits the water seconds after us.
We’re standing in less than knee-high water now. “Come on, Isaac, you can fish me out of the water if the undertow takes me down,” Conner instructs as he and Isaac pair up, walking further into the water before getting on their boards and paddling out.
The guys make their way out, and Conner slips off his board and splashes into the water before he even tries to stand on his board.
Giggling, I decide to take my time as I make my way into deeper water. The waves are deafening as they crash around me, and with the fog, I quickly lose track of my friends.
Soon, I can feel the undertow pulling at my feet and decide I’d better get onto my board. It’s a bit of an awkward effort. At five feet and five inches, I’m not very tall and apparently even less coordinated in water than I am on land.
Finally, after more attempts than I care to admit, I sit up on my board and find my balance.
Am I supposed to stand on this thing?
Fat chance.
But I’m no quitter and willing to make an absolute fool of myself trying. Come to think of it, though, with this fog, the only person who will know how monumentally I failed at surfing is me.
Silver linings are like the hot sauce of life. You need to put that shit on everything.
Scanning around me, I try to find Sarah, but to no avail. The fog is thick, and it’s hard to see more than ten feet ahead. Squinting, I figure I’ll paddle out and try to find the others.
You’d think I would at least be able to hear Conner. The guy is loud and never stops talking. But I guess even the ocean wants to drown him out.
Picking a random direction to paddle out to, I gingerly lay down on my board, trying to avoid letting more of my body touch the water. The water is freezing,and I’m not keen to jump in just yet. When I finally place my hands in the water, a shock courses through my left hand.
Holy shit!
I wrench my hands back.
The water around me ripples away through the waves, heading out to deeper water.
What the hell was that?
Gingerly, I inspect my hand. There’s nothing wrong with it, and there’s no damage that I can see.
I thought maybe I was stung by a jellyfish, but the pain was gone in an instant. There are also no telltale red strips indicating I’m in for a world of hurt.
Glancing back into the water, I try to see below the dark surface. Do electric eels live in the Atlantic Ocean? Are there other fish that can shock you?
Unlike our unenthusiastic surf teacher, I’m not keen to find out through experience.
Unfortunately, I’ve caught a bit of a current, and my board has floated out further than I anticipated. As I look behind me for signs of shore, my stomach drops. It’s going to be challenging to get back without paddling.
