Thursday, August 2, 2012
from cali part II: a boy and his board
Three dull thumps of his heels hitting the wet sand, the splat of the board being flung onto the water, the thud as his feet hit the sleek wooden board, and then the swoosh. The swoosh of water parting as he slid across the glass-like sand and water.
If I would have been paying better attention, I might have noticed the subtle signs that my skim-boarding husband was about to take flight. The way his eyes never stopped studying the waves. How his fingers twitched with the nervous energy of a man ready at a moments notice. I would have noted the way his body would perk, starting at his ears, as he raised and tilted his head ever so slightly, like the RCA dog.
That last one was probably the true indicator that my husband would no longer be beside me. The sign that he had spotted the perfect wave.
His dismount was far less graceful than the ride. His body, once in a purposeful crouch, would sprawl into an x as the board hit the incoming wall of white wake. Sometimes he landed on his feet, other times on his hands and knees, always soaked by the icy water and always with a grunt.
After recovering his board from the tide, he would drudge back to the firmer sand. And once again, he was by my side.