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“Tonight was fun. The girls said thank you.” Evie stopped typing on her laptop as I shut the door.
“It was! And tomorrow is going to be amazing.” She turned her laptop toward me so I could see the screen.
“What am I looking at?” It was her Snapchat with a ton of messages referring to being somewhere.
“I blasted about Bridger’s anniversary. I used all the popular surf tags…”
Her voice trailed off when she looked up at the dismay in my eyes. My chest tightened and my head filled with pressure. “Evie, what did you do?”
She looked at me with alarm in her eyes. “What do you mean? You told me to help you.”
I started to pace the small space. “Like, order flowers or chocolates or something, which is what you said you were doing. Not invite the entire surf community to descend upon the beach that Charlee considered just her and Bridger’s special place.” I started to hyperventilate. No wonder the beach looked so busy today.
“Oh,” she looked down, “I just thought she would be happy to see all the people who Bridger meant something to.”
I sat across from her and pushed her laptop out of our line of sight. “Look, Evie, I know you meant well, so I’m not upset, but Charlee is a really private person. In passing, she mentioned hoping there weren’t the crowds like last year.” I sighed. “I just think she wants this moment to herself, is all.”
“Shoot. What do I do?” Evie was visibly upset.
There was no way to undo this. “It’s okay, Evie. I’m sure it will be fine. I’m probably overreacting.” But was I? I didn’t think so, but I also didn’t want Evie to blame herself. She had good intentions. I just needed to let Charlee know in the morning, so she wasn’t blindsided by the crowds.
“What if we had people gather on the far side of the beach, so Charlee has her own space over here, but still can see all the people here for Bridger?”
I mulled it over. “That could work. She has this thing about the cliff rocks, so maybe if she has that to herself it would be okay.”
“I’ll start blasting where to meet,” Evie said as she started typing quickly on her keyboard.
The stress over tomorrow kept me from sleeping, and it didn’t help that the rain had started pelting the Airstream loudly and the wind gusts were rocking it endlessly so much so that it felt like I was on a boat. I couldn’t understand how anyone could sleep through this, yet there was Evie, sleeping soundly on the couch. She refused to take the bedroom.
At five, I finally gave up on sleep and crawled out of bed. There would be no magnificent sunrise today, and I wondered if there would be a gathering after all. The storm had promised to be the strongest the West Coast had seen in over a hundred years, and from the looks of it outside, the news reports weren’t wrong. If the storm remained tropical storm strength when it hit land, I had heard the campground may evacuate.
I pulled out my phone to check the weather updates. It showed the worst of the storm hitting in the early afternoon. I peeked out the blinds and scanned the beach. It was dark and raining so hard, I couldn’t see the ocean, but I wouldn’t doubt there would be surfers out there soon enough, chasing the adrenaline. I couldn’t believe I used to be one of those idiots. Surfing was a rush without the threat of an impending storm. There was always a risk of dying out there. Why I ever put more risk on it was beyond me. It was Bridger who had talked me out of the last big storm before he retired from the circuit. He said storm waves were unpredictable and reckless, not making great waves to ride, anyway. Doing so was just for bragging rights, which was immature and not really respected by the pros. The respect came with making safe and smart choices on the water. Choosing the best waves for technical merit didn’t always mean the biggest wave. Had he tried to convince me of that years before, I would have laughed at him, but by that point in my career, it made a whole lot of sense. I never ran into a storm again.
Scrubbing the exhaustion roughly from my face, I yearned for a cup of coffee, but I didn’t want to wake Evie. When I dropped my hands from my face and glanced out the window again, I could have sworn I saw a figure rush down the beach with what could only be a surfboard.
“Idiot,” I whispered to myself, but then red flags started waving in my head, making me question whether that could have been Charlee. I hadn’t seen a surfboard lying around her trailer, but it could have just as easily been at her truck. I would hope she wasn’t reckless enough to surf in this. Bridger would have told her that, but something kept nagging at me. Something wasn’t right.
I made sure Evie wasn’t stirring and then quietly pulled on a lightweight rain jacket I had hanging by the door and slipped out, pulling the hood tight over my head. The rain was coming down sideways, and it was so thick it was hard to see. Down the beach I saw a couple of surfers getting ready, but I needed to get closer to the water to see if anyone was actually in it yet. Typically, surfers waited until sunrise because there were less crowds at dawn and the waves were usually calmer before the winds picked up, but storm waves were a different beast for the adrenaline junkies. Only seasoned surfers braved them.
Pushing against the winds and covering my face the best I could with my arm, I walked toward the ocean. Squinting, I tried to see if anyone was out on the water. I quickly glanced over to Charlee’s dark trailer and then back at the ocean. Surely, I would see some lights on if she and Genesis were awake, but there was still this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I pushed on, walking toward the cliff rocks. No one would surf over here, but it was a good place to hang back before going out. I didn’t see anyone tucked in the rocks closest to me, so it was entirely possible what I had seen was just my eyes playing tricks on me. I turned to head back up when I caught something out in the water. The rain was relentless, making it hard to see. Even covering my eyes with my hands wasn’t much help, but there was no question that there was a surfer beyond the break, sitting on their board bobbing over the waves. The sun was inching its way slowly over the horizon, but it was still too dark to make out details because of the storm clouds.
Charlee wouldn’t be this reckless, I tried to convince myself, but then I caught sight of long hair and I started to question that. Lots of surfers, regardless of gender, had long hair, but I couldn’t help but think it could be Charlee. Shouts drew my attention, and when I looked back up to the trailers and saw Genesis running down the beach waving her arms frantically, I knew I had made a grave mistake assuming it wasn’t Charlee.
Charlee
As soon as I woke up, the anxiety roared through my body, attacking my heart hopelessly. Today was the day that Bridger died and the reality gutted me. All those months dreading this day, thinking it would never come, but at the same time thinking it was coming too fast, and now it was here. But I wasn’t alone like I’d thought I would be. I had Genesis and, oddly enough, Levi, who just last night, had confessed Bridger had been the one that mentored him. I had never paid much attention to the surfers, and it had never dawned on me that Levi was the same kid Bridger had worked with. Levi looked so much younger and skinnier then, and I had only met him once on the first day of the tour. It was stupid, really, that I didn’t recognize him, but my brain had been so messed up the past couple of years and forgetting faces wasn’t uncommon for me. When I went back on tour for that year with Bridger, I didn’t associate with the surfers or attend their heats. I was strictly administration and mainly made phone calls to organize the events, catering, and promotional stuff. It was still an interesting coincidence that Levi and I should meet here at this beach. He was probably at the campground for Bridger. I wondered if he had come last year. I tried to come, but I couldn’t. It was too hard. Too fresh.
It still feels fresh.
I had read on multiple surf blogs this beach was filled last year with friends and fans from the circuit. It was one of many reasons I didn’t come. The thought of people approaching me with condolences paralyzed me with fear. I wasn’t ready to face Bridger’s death last year with all those people.
Was I ready now?
I didn’t suspect there would be many fans this year, but the beach had been filled last night. The threat of a tropical storm should have been enough to keep people away, and I couldn’t imagine many would show up two years later. Not like last year.
I glanced over to Genesis, still passed out from our late night, snoring lightly.
