CARLOS & KATRINA

A Novel by Charles Adrian Trevino
Copyright 2006, 2018
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Chapter 17:

The next day dawned bright and sunny, and Carlos awoke to the sound of the surf crashing in the distance. Upon venturing outside, Carlos was immediately struck by the natural beauty that surrounded him.  Although he had seen the Kanalas before in movies and pictures, he was still unprepared for the contrast between the world he was used to and the new one he now found himself in.  Green peaks towered off in the distance under a flawless blue sky; it seemed that everywhere he looked there was a new plant or flower he had never seen before. The tall palm trees above him swayed lazily in the mid–morning breeze as he took it all in; when they walked down to the beach he was amazed by the diversity of sea shells, and made Liko Boy laugh by constantly stooping down to pick them up, stuffing his pockets.  A typical tourist in tropical paradise.

The waves were unusually large, and growing bigger by the hour.  They were already too big to surf at the break in front of Liko Boy’s house, crashing over in long even walls that stretched for hundreds of feet.  The prevailing tradewinds which blew out towards the ocean and made the surface conditions excellent for surfing were already starting to come up, blowing spray off the tops of the towering waves.  They decided to embark immediately to Liko’s secret spot, a secluded patch of sand which lay off the beaten path of the swarming tourist masses.

Liko Boy described the set–up as they sped down the highway. “It’s a tiny beach that’s only accessible by dirt roads the fishermen use.  To even get to the dirt road that leads down to it you have to ask permission to cross private property… my uncle’s!  It’s surrounded by rocky cliffs and there are only a few small huts on the beach.  At higher tides waves run back off the steep beach and backwash off the waves coming in… makes it kind of interesting.  There’s a lot of sea life, so don’t be surprised if you see a shark or something.”  He laughed. “Don’t worry, no one’s ever been eaten there.”

They came to Liko’s uncle’s ranch and after unlocking the gate to the fenced off property, Liko Boy drove past some houses and turned onto a narrow, rut–filled dirt road.  They bounced along at a good speed for a while, enjoying the lush scenery.  The road came to a steep descent that curved down to a golden sand beach situated between high cliffs, but Liko Boy came to a stop before driving down.  Finally they had arrived, and the first thing they saw was a big perfect wave peeling in, with the tradewinds blowing spray off of its round, spinning curl.  It was like a scene from a postcard.

“We’ll leave the car up here and walk down… don’t want any big waves to wash my new car out to sea!”  Liko set the parking brake and they jumped out in great excitement, staring at the swelling ocean.  Troy and Carlos unstrapped their surfboards from the racks atop Liko Boy's car and followed their host down the dirt road, and soon they were waxing up on the warm sandy beach. Carlos was glad that he had bought a long, big–wave surfboard on the mainland from a shaper familiar with the larger, more powerful island waves.  The time had come for Carlos to test his mettle and he was ready, but with no other surfers in the water to use as a yardstick there was no way of gauging how big the waves really were.

The first indication Carlos got of the true size of the swell was when he paddled out behind Liko Boy and Troy.  The initial inside shorebreak waves he encountered were bigger than the waves he usually surfed on the mainland.  As he paddled hard to clear them he briefly worried about the difficulty of getting back into shore, but upon reaching the outside break line Carlos quickly forgot all about the smaller inside waves.

He had jumped into surf bigger than anything he had ever ridden before. Massive blue–green peaks were moving in from the horizon like rolling liquid mountains, and they were perfectly shaped for surfing.  Coming at him faster and larger than anything he had previously surfed, the waves would then hit a shallow reef and jack upwards another four to five feet before breaking.  It was an unnerving spectacle to behold, as Carlos scrambled to stay out of the way of the huge pitching breakers.

Liko Boy appeared to be elated.  “12 foot sets easy, boys!  This is even bigger than I thought it would be!  Conditions are perfect… I know this place will hold most of the set waves, but something might come in that's too big to ride, so watch out!”  With that Liko Boy spun around and paddled away from them towards a mountainous peak that was building up outside.

When Liko Boy said 12 foot waves he was referring to the back of the wave, as meteorologists and all Kanala surfers did.  The actual height of the front of the wave was well over 20 feet.  As Troy and Carlos watched, Liko Boy paddled confidently into the imposing monster.  He jumped to his feet and plunged straight down the vertical face, his arms outstretched like the wings of a gull.  Carlos was stunned for a second by the beauty of the art form; it was a glorious thing to behold.  Then Liko Boy was gone from sight as the wave passed, showering them in the spray the wind blew off the top of it.

Troy looked over at Carlos and laughed.  “We better wait for some in–betweeners to start off with.  Liko Boy is used to this stuff!  Take a smaller wave and get the feel of it first, Carlos, then gradually work your way up to the bigger ones.”

The problem was there weren’t a lot of smaller waves; smaller waves only broke on the inside, and the two didn't want to move inside to catch them and risk being caught by the outside sets, which were a consistent 12 feet. After a while Troy worked up the nerve to take off on a set wave, paddling furiously.  He got a smooth takeoff and, after jumping to his feet, seemed to glide effortlessly into the smooth glassy pit of the wave, making the whole process look easy.  Then he too disappeared from sight as the spray from his wave rained down on Carlos.

For the first time Carlos began to appreciate Troy’s many years of island experience.  There was just no substitute for Kanala experience; the bigger island waves demanded courage and respect.  But something else was now entering into the picture; it was the friendly competition that existed between Carlos and Troy as surfers.  Though Carlos liked to consider himself the better surfer, Troy had more big–wave experience.  His ability to get to the islands so often and sharpen his skills had always been a thorn in his side; now Carlos found himself floating all alone in an ocean of opportunity.  He would have preferred to start off on smaller waves, but there were none available.  He would have to take what was there, or else hand the crown over to Troy.  In his mind he just couldn’t do that.

Carlos let several waves pass by, then chose a smooth glassy beauty that was rolling straight towards him.  As he turned to paddle for it Carlos attempted to put all fear out of his mind, but nothing he had previously surfed had prepared him for this moment.  As the wave hit the shelf it jacked up violently, lifting him higher and higher.  He paddled furiously to get over the ledge that was forming at the top; he couldn’t see the face of the wave below him.  Instinctively he chose the right moment to get to his feet.

The feeling was like jumping off a cliff, as his surfboard fell away from under him.  He plunged downwards with his arms upstretched, free–falling into the abyss.  Halfway down the vertical face he knew he would make it to the bottom in one piece; his main concern now was the thick lip of the curl that was pursuing him. As soon as he dared Carlos began to lean over into his turn in an attempt to outrun the heavy cascade.  His board had been well designed, and to his relief the rail carved smoothly into the uprushing water as he accelerated to his right.

The sensation of velocity was incredible; Carlos thought he had more than enough speed to outrun the curl, which was all he wanted to do at this juncture.  Then suddenly an ominous shadow began to darken the sparkling sunlit face of the wave in front of him; to his surprise the huge lip threw completely over him, crashing down onto the trough below him.  He was now far back in the tube, completely at the mercy of the roaring beast attempting to devour him.  The whitewater churning around inside the huge cylinder began to overcome him, and everything went dark.  He prepared to die.

Suddenly it was over.  The wave slowed its speed and Carlos shot out from behind the curl into the sunlight again.  It had shrunk in size, and he began to climb and drop on its perfectly shaped face with more confidence, going faster than he had ever gone before.  Then it entered a deep water channel and quickly died out, leaving Carlos' speeding board chattering across flat water.  As he came to a stop and dropped to his deck, Liko Boy was paddling back out from his own long wave, yelling something at him; he had appreciated his tube ride.  Carlos grinned, then turned around and immediately began paddling back out himself, his only thought being to get another big one.  His fear had completely disappeared.

They surfed for hours, doing battle with the towering, fire–breathing dragons that rolled in relentlessly to challenge them.  With no other surfers out in the water they could afford to be choosey, and took only the best waves.  But as the afternoon advanced a light mist began creeping down from the hilltops, descending onto the small beach and into the water.  The waves were changing color, going from a cheerful sunlit blue–green to a more serious looking silvery–gray, and gradually increasing in size until they had reached a truly intimidating stature. Neither Carlos nor Troy wanted to be the first one to chicken out and go in; the two surfers looked at each other, trying to detect signs of doubt and fear in each other’s poker faces, but said nothing.

Liko Boy had no intention of leaving.  He had been surfing superbly all afternoon, and as his wave count increased his demeanor had changed from calm and positive to something entirely different, something dark and almost demoniac; he seemed obsessed with conquering the worst the sea could throw at him, as if there were a personal grudge match between them.  Now he had completely worked himself up, pugnaciously yelling out at the ocean as the biggest set of the day appeared on the horizon and bore down on them:

“Bigger! Bigger, King Neptune!”

Carlos and Troy took one look at the incoming waves, and began paddling as hard as they could out to sea in a desperate attempt to avoid being crushed. Stroking over the top of the first one, they felt their hearts palpitating as they saw that the next wave was bigger and was going to break even farther outside.  Thrashing and kicking like mad, they barely made it over the top of the second wave.  The nightmare repeated itself again, and then a fourth and fifth time, as the biggest wave of the set loomed over their heads.  Feeling exhausted, Carlos put everything else out of his mind and concentrated on taking one stroke after another up the massive face.  As he paddled weakly over the top, barely making it over, he finally gave up and collapsed onto the deck of his board, unable to take another stroke.  Completely out of breath, he lay face down on his board and floated helplessly, waiting for the next wave to finish him off. 

After a while he looked up again.  There were no more waves coming.  He was floating alone far out in the ocean, his friends having failed to make it over the last one.  As he rested on his board feeling a numb sense of relief that the set had ended before completely destroying him, he was struck with awe as he contemplated the mauling Troy and Liko must have taken from that last wave; Carlos had only escaped that cruel punishment by a few inches.  Some more waves came through but did not threaten him; he was far enough outside to be safe for now.  It was several minutes before he saw Liko Boy paddling back out towards him.

Apparently the thrashing he had just taken had not humbled Liko Boy at all; it had only made him more determined to fight on.  He came towards Carlos paddling hard, as if he were being pursued by devils, cursing and laughing at the same time like a madman.  Carlos could not imagine where he got the energy to paddle so fast, after taking a beating that would have rivaled going five rounds with a world champion prizefighter. 

As Liko Boy passed by Carlos, he laughed at his astonished expression.  “Hey Carlos!  Got caught inside, bro!  Better get out there; more bigger waves coming!”  Liko paddled out another twenty yards and stopped.  He sat on his board and stared out at the gray ocean in defiance.  It was a surrealistic scene, with the light mist hanging under a dreamlike sky that matched the color of the ocean.  The mood of the ocean had definitely changed.  Carlos looked around and was surprised to see Troy appear over the top of a wave inside of him, coming back out for more. Carlos found himself admiring Troy’s strength of spirit; he really didn't want to be the first one to go in to the beach. 

Carlos spun his head back around out to sea, as Liko Boy vocally erupted again. “Neptune! You can’t kill me!” He roared out at the ocean. "I’m stronger than you, ha ha!!”  He shook his fist in the air, laughing maniacally.  Carlos thought Liko Boy had gone completely mad; all he wanted at that point was to catch the smallest possible wave and go in.

“Carlos!”  Troy was yelling to be heard from a distance.  “We have to go in!  It’s getting too big!”  Carlos turned to regard Troy again; still paddling frenetically, he had almost made it back outside.

“NEPTUNE!!” screamed Liko Boy.  “Come on, Neptune!  I dare you to challenge me!!  Show yourself, you coward!”

Carlos began watching Liko Boy once more, fascinated by his mad display of bravado.  In spite of the punishment he had just taken, Liko was laughing, bellowing and shaking his fists in defiance of the mythical ocean god!  It was an awe–inspiring sight, something Carlos knew he wouldn't forget.

After a little while Troy finally made it back outside to where Carlos was sitting, but was too tired to say anything.  He flopped down onto his board, resting. “Troy!  Why did you come back out?” asked Carlos.  “Liko Boy’s lost his mind… he’s gone insane!”

“Naw, he always acts like that when it’s big,” said Troy, catching his breath. “Carlos, we have to go in right now!  Damn it, I had to paddle back out to tell you.  Those step–ladder sets mean the swell is just beginning to increase!  It’s gonna' get bigger, huge!  Take the next wave in, or you’ll be stuck out here in giant surf, and it’s getting dark.  At high tide the beach disappears.  If you wait too long, you won’t be able to get back in!”  With that admonishment, Troy turned and began stroking back towards shore. He caught a smaller ten–foot insider and was gone, heading for the safety of the beach.

Liko Boy began laughing loudly again, and once more Carlos turned to watch him.  To his dismay he saw Liko Boy drop down onto his board and start to paddle, as if he had seen more waves coming.  Carlos immediately followed suit, cursing under his breath; apparently this set was going to break even farther out than the last one, meaning that it would be of monstrous size.  He didn’t have long to wait; from out of the mist a gray fourteen-foot behemoth appeared, bearing down rapidly on them.  It was the first and smallest wave of the set and Liko Boy paddled over it, hoping for something more challenging. Carlos didn’t wish to confront anything bigger.  He spun around and paddled hard, wanting only to get back to shore and feel the earth under his feet again.

Carlos caught the wave and took the scariest drop of his life, feeling as if he were falling down a vertical mineshaft.  Barely making it to the bottom intact, he didn’t even try to turn, instead heading straight in towards the beach.  The lip touched down, exploding into whitewater just behind him and nearly knocking him off his board, but he managed to stay on, crouching low. As the churning mass began to engulf him, Carlos threw himself down on his stomach and proned out, hanging onto his bouncing surfboard for dear life; if he could stay with his board the wave would carry him almost all the way in to the beach.  Then Carlos saw something that terrified him; an immense backwash wave had run off the steep beach and was heading back out to sea, on a collision course with his incoming wave.  When the two opposing forces met there would be a violent, spectacular clash, with him being caught right in the middle of it.  Not knowing what else to do, he threw himself off his board into the churning whitewash. He was sucked down and tumbled around underwater like a rag doll, the turbulence threatening to tear off his arms and legs as he attempted to roll up into a ball.  He felt the shock wave from the backwash collision happening above him, but he had managed to escape the brunt of it.  As the turmoil subsided he surfaced into thick sudsy foam, his lungs burning for air.

His leash had broken, and his board was nowhere to be seen. Feeling almost completely spent, Carlos swam the rest of the way to the shore, sincerely thanking God as his feet touched solid ground again. He picked up his board which had come to a rest on the sand, and staggered up the beach to where Troy was sitting on a big boulder.

“That was hilarious,” said Troy.  Carlos cursed something under his breath as he sat down heavily in the sand.  “I’ve gotta’ cut down on my smoking,” he muttered.

“That backwash can really screw a guy up, eh?”  Troy laughed rudely.  Carlos gave Troy a dirty look, then turned to survey the beach around him. Behind them a Kanala fisherman was busily loading up a truck from one of the small huts that stood just off the road.  He turned and looked at them. “Hey!” he yelled.  “You no surf here!  Waves getting bigger!  Beach not safe… you go to high ground now!”

“I know, I know!  We’re waiting for our friend, then we’re leaving!” Troy yelled back.

The fisherman scowled at them. “That guy crazy!  Waves too big for here!  Waves go all the way to hills there!”  He pointed off to the hills behind them.  “Radio say ‘vacuate!”

“Thank you, thank you!”  Troy waved at the fisherman and smiled.  The fisherman said something and turned back to his truck.  He hurriedly finished securing his load, then jumped in and drove off, speeding up the dirt road.

“He’s right… this beach is no place to be on a huge swell,” said Troy.  “The cliffs funnel the waves right into this place; those huts get washed away every five years or so.  I wish Liko Boy would come in.”

“He said something about the radio… did he say evacuate?” Carlos asked, watching the fisherman driving away.  “Looks like he’s abandoning his hut…”

“Hell, those big storms must have converged or something!  We really should go higher…”  Troy looked out to sea.  “Oh my god, look at this!”

Carlos looked at the ocean.  An immense wave was coming in, noticeably larger than anything they had seen all day.  They stared in awestruck wonder as it curled over and exploded, sending tons of whitewater shoreward. Troy whistled.  “Now that’s big,” he said.

“Yeah,” Carlos agreed, as the wave drew closer.  But something was not right; the wave had reached the point where the other waves began to dissipate, but was still coming on strong.  As it bore down on the beach it suddenly became apparent to both of them that this wave had no intention of stopping where the other ones stopped.  An eight foot wall of churning seawater hit the steep beach and quickly devoured it.

They looked at each other.  Without saying a word they both jumped up and bolted for higher ground, abandoning their boards.  Troy was in the lead; he made it to a nearby tree and scrambled up into the branches, hanging on for life and limb as the surging ocean caught up with them.  A few feet behind him, Carlos was knocked down, submerged and carried away with the irresistible force.  As it flowed like a river back out to sea, he was dragged helplessly along with it.  Fighting the undertow, he managed to get to the surface and take a quick breath before being pulled under again.

“Don’t panic… don’t panic...” he thought, as he held his breath and waited. He was being swept like a piece of driftwood back into the ocean. After struggling for what seemed like an eternity he was able to fight his way back to the surface, where he gratefully sucked in some precious air. Gasping hoarsely he took a look around, assessing his situation.

The surge had carried him quite a ways back out, and he quickly realized he was in a very dangerous spot.  There were more waves coming in, and he was in danger of getting pushed back into the murderously pounding shorebreak.  It was almost dark, and he had to decide now whether to swim out to the relative safety of deeper water or else try for the beach again.   He watched as another huge wave loomed up outside, feeling a strange sense of detachment, as if he were viewing his predicament from above.

As Carlos floated, treading water, he saw Liko Boy appear at the top of the massive wave, thrashing wildly to get in.  As if in a drug–induced trance, he calmly watched as Liko plunged down and into the guts of the monster. Over the roar of the ocean he thought he heard the sound of Liko Boy’s insane laughter again; nothing Liko did could surprise him now.  Carlos watched the whitewater bearing down on him and waited until it was very close; then filling his lungs with air, he dove underwater and rolled into a ball.  As the wave struck him he remained in his dreamlike state of mind, a piece of flotsam caught in a violent, whirling maelstrom.

The next thing he knew he was back in shallow water.  He gratefully felt the sand under his feet again as the wave deposited him a few yards from shore and withdrew.  He struggled to the beach and suddenly realized it had almost disappeared; there were only steep cliffs right in front of him now.  He had been swept far south of the place he had so carelessly sat with Troy just minutes earlier.

It was impossible to get back to the road; the tide was higher now and the waves were smashing into the cliff to the north of him, completely blocking his access. Looking to the south, Carlos could only see high cliffs stretching for miles. With darkness falling and his escape route cut off, there was only one option left to him: to climb as far as he could up the cliff in an attempt to put himself out of reach of the waves, which he knew were only going to get bigger.

Carlos scanned the cliffs in front of him.  A little ways to his south he saw a promontory that looked climbable, and he made for it as quickly as he could.  He reached it and began to climb, thanking God again as he found easy handholds and footholds in the quickly disappearing light.  The wet rock told him that the waves had reached far up the cliffs already, and the sounds of the pounding, steadily increasing surf reminded him that they would reach even higher.  He had to get as high up as possible and perch there, probably all night, as he waited for the waves to subside or for a receding tide to allow him to make a run for the road, the only way out; soon the incoming tide, combining with an ever-increasing swell would turn the beach below him into a churning death zone. His only other choice now was to swim out into the raging ocean in the dark... and tread water all night long.

Carlos had climbed about 30 feet when he looked up and saw what he thought was a niche in the face of the cliff where he could safely sit.  With the daylight completely gone it seemed like a miracle.  He scampered up the remaining few yards and over a protruding boulder, and was very surprised at what he found. There was a large recess in the cliff, with soft marine grass growing in a flat spot that measured about 10 by 15 feet.  Strange cactus–looking plants grew off to the sides.  Just out of reach above him appeared to be even more foliage and perhaps a way out, but it was impossible to climb any higher due to the steepness of the surrounding walls.

Nonetheless, his promontory was situated high enough up to be safe from the waves, and it looked like a comfortable, if not downright pleasant place to spend a warm tropical night.  He had lucked out for once, thought Carlos as he lay down in the thick soft grass and rested.  He was completely exhausted.

Carlos closed his eyes and began to doze off.  He hadn’t slept more than a few minutes when the sound of the crashing waves brought him around again.  The surf was still smashing violently into the cliffs below him, but the moon had come out and was casting a mellow light.  He suddenly remembered Troy and Liko Boy and shook himself fully awake.  In his tiredness, he had completely forgotten about his companions.

The last thing he had seen before being sucked out to sea was Troy jumping up into the branches of a sturdy tree.  Carlos couldn’t be sure, but he thought that Troy had made it to safety.  If he had, he would have climbed down from the tree once the deluge receded and run back to the road and up the hill to get help.  But perhaps the ocean had plucked him from the tree and sucked him out to sea along with Carlos.  If so, he would have been washed south just as Carlos had been, down to where there was no beach and the waves were smashing into the cliffs; the chances of him being as incredibly lucky as Carlos had been were very slim.  If the ocean had indeed snatched Troy from the safety of his tree, he was probably dead by now.  It was a sad and sobering thought.

He thought of Liko Boy, recklessly surfing huge waves into the night.  With all his ocean experience, Liko had miscalculated this time.  It was unlikely that he could have found his way to the small beach in the dark.  Carlos shuddered to think of what fate might have befallen him, but he was convinced that Liko Boy had perished.  Grimacing, he could picture Liko desperately paddling further and further out to sea in the blackness, as the waves grew steadily in size; what a terrifying way to die.

As Carlos thought of how the defiant Liko Boy had shaken his fist out at the ocean, defying King Neptune to kill him, tears sprang to his eyes.  He hadn’t known Liko Boy very long, but his indomitable spirit had made a lasting impression on Carlos.  Liko may have been out of his mind, but he had died a hero’s death in the arms of the ocean, doing what they all loved.  Carlos would always remember him.

Carlos sat up and gazed at the full moon.  So many things had happened to him in such a short span of time, it was making his head spin to think about it now.  He suddenly remembered his band back home, and the upcoming concert dates Frank Fortune had arranged for them.  There really was no reason to think anything would change; the tide was going to drop eventually, and he would be able to make a dash across the exposed strip of sand to the road, from where he could safely get away from this death–trap beach.  If all went well, he would walk away from this tragedy and into what might appear to an observer to be an enviable situation, rejoining Slasher and the boys back at home.  He would carry on, but would continue to do so with a heavy heart.

Carlos had been trying to hide the depression he'd been feeling, after blowing it with Katrina on their first date.  Yet at the same time he had been consoling himself with the thought that perhaps there was still hope, and the progress he was making in trying to launch his band was bolstering that hope.  He was beginning to worry about how much time had actually passed since he had last spoken to Katrina.  Things had been happening so fast… probably for both of them.

As he lay back on the grass and gazed up at the brightly lit sky, a shooting star whizzed directly over him.  It was a common sight out here, where there were no bright city lights. “Make a wish,” Carlos thought to himself.  Closing his eyes, he wished for everything; that his band would be a success, that Katrina would forgive him and give him another chance, that Troy was safe, and that Liko Boy would somehow come through this night alive; he wished that the crashing waves which were shaking the cliffs would not rise up too high and snatch him from his comfortable nest. Then having finished his wishes, he opened his eyes once more. "If only wishes could come true..." he murmurred to himself, looking up at the stars. Then, slowly, he started to nod off again.

Suddenly he heard someone calling his name. “Carlos!”

Carlos nearly jumped out of his skin.  Liko Boy’s head appeared over the protruding rock that guarded the entrance to his alcove.

“Liko... what? Are you alright?" Carlos leaped to his feet, hardly believing what he was seeing.  "How did you get in?  Are you hurt?”

“Nah, I’m ok, but I broke my board in half on my last wave.  I know every nook and cranny of this beach.  You found the only safe place to be on a night like this!”  Liko Boy climbed up and over the rock and sat down besides Carlos.  He was perfectly calm and composed, not even breathing hard.

Carlos stared at him in disbelief.  “I can’t believe you made it in!  The waves were smashing into the cliffs, there was nowhere to go… I think Troy made it out ok, but I thought you were a goner for sure!

“Naw… like I said, I know this place.  When night falls you just aim for the break in the cliffs where we came in… but the beach is all covered up!  I had to swim down here to look for you… you found my safe little perch!  That was good thinking, Carlos.  We’re perfectly safe here, unless a 50 footer comes in.  It’s really kind of a nice place to spend the night; I’ve had to do it before.”

Carlos suddenly realized why the fisherman had told them Liko Boy was crazy.  Evidently he did this often… surfing a beach that became a death trap when the waves got too big.  Carlos’ mind was reeling in amazement at the thought of such a thing.

“Too bad we lost our boards, though… damn things get more expensive every day!”

“Fuck the goddamned boards!" Carlos exclaimed loudly.  “I’m just glad we didn’t lose our fucking lives! We’re alive, Liko!!”

“Yeah, that's good... but shit, Troy’s gonna’ find my keys, take my car to my uncle’s, call the coast guard, get my wife all upset, I know it!  Nothing to be done about it, though.  My fault for bringing him here.  But I’m really upset I broke that board…”  Liko looked down at the ground and shook his head.  “That was the best board in the Islands,” he solemnly pronounced.  He looked up again, seeing Carlos' expression of disbelief, and broke out in laughter.

“You're right Carlos," Liko Boy said, looking up at the star–filled sky. A smile came over his face. "It’s no big thing. When God plays with you in Kanala, sometimes he plays rough.”  As he spoke these words, another meteor shot across the night sky over their heads.

Carlos felt his spirits lifting, like a hot air balloon rising from the earth.  It was times like these that made him truly believe in a God; some all–knowing, benevolent force that was watching over him, giving him signs of its existence, and helping him to cope with his strange earthly situation -- when it wasn't screwing him up. Something majestic, but which possessed an impish sense of humor; something that loved to toy with and test him, incessantly. He had long taken comfort in his strong conviction that this entity existed, and that there was a reason for his own existence, with all of its attendant joys and miseries. Perhaps if he played along and did what this God wanted, it would help him attain his earthly goals; but first he had to know exactly what it was this God wanted. He would have to contemplate the matter further...

Carlos and Liko Boy talked long into the warm, beautiful Kanala night; then Liko Boy finally fell asleep, his head lying in a soft mound of grass. Carlos watched him breathing easily as he dreamed, and decided he had better get some sleep himself. He felt sure now that Troy had made it back to the road, and would probably be coming back soon with help to look for them, but it really wasn't necessary; they were perfectly safe and comfortable in their pleasant perch, and at low tide he and Liko Boy would simply take a nice walk up the beach and back to the safety of the road.

Carlos lay back and began to doze off once again, this time without the weight of the sorrow he had felt before. In fact, he was feeling good now; really good. He had already gotten one of his wishes; maybe they would all come true.

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Copyright 2006, 2018 by Charles Adrian Trevino.