Cara Lockwood - The Big Break

He hadn’t done anything. He’d simply stayed with the boy. In the end, it had been just dumb luck they’d not both been killed. He’d thought countless times, what might have happened if he hadn’t gone to the day care that day to check on his cousin? If he’d simply headed straight to higher ground?

He remembered Po, the small dark-haired boy, recalled that the two of them had huddled in the second story of the day care before the first wave hit. He’d obviously been scared, but he’d worked so hard to be brave. Just three then, barely older than a toddler, he’d swum for his life and made it. After the wave had wrecked half of the building and torn them from it, he’d lain crippled in the flood with Po, who was magically unharmed. He’d done nothing special then but pray.

But he couldn’t convince Jun of that. Jun, with those serious dark eyes and that delicate heart-shaped face. He’d forgotten how striking she was, how pretty. His thoughts wandered where they shouldn’t, and he felt sleazy for even wondering what her petite, toned body might look like naked in his bed. She was a mother, for goodness’ sake.

There you go again, avoiding the real problem. It was easy to avoid problems, he thought, when he had a pretty face to think about.

Kai reached into his pocket and pulled out the small business card Jun had slipped into his gift bag. It read “Jun Lee, personal trainer, life coach. Live life organically.”

She must be one of those New Age nuts, the kind that ate only granola and rabbit-pellet food. Kai had never been in that camp. He had always been a barbecue-rib kind of guy. He flipped the card over and saw the “Good for One Free Tai Chi Class” scrawled on the back. He thought that was something only old people did, but Jun wasn’t old. At least it wasn’t yoga. Kai couldn’t see himself doing yoga. But Tai Chi, maybe he’d try it.

Or maybe he’d just call her and ask her out for a drink.

Then he remembered the look of complete horror when he’d asked her if he could see Po, how quickly she’d squealed out of his driveway. Maybe she had a boyfriend. Po’s dad, maybe?

Or maybe she’s just not interested.

Somehow, the thought electrified him just a little. It had been weeks since he’d found any girl a real challenge. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman flat out told him no.

He held the card between his two fingers, thinking about her lean, athletic body. She was sexy, no doubt, but there was something else that intrigued him about Jun Lee.

You could change that. She’d seemed so sure he could turn around the disaster his life had become, as if she had some magic bullet to solve all his problems. He knew she couldn’t, that it was probably just talk, and yet the way she’d said it, with unwavering conviction, got him wondering. Could he?

He glanced at her card again and then nearly laughed out loud. What was he thinking? The Tai Chi instructor didn’t have the answers. It was just his little head doing all the thinking again. It was just about him being attracted to the woman, nothing more.

Besides, she was far too serious for him, he reasoned. A grown-up. That was what came to mind when he thought of Jun Lee. The exact opposite of the tourists he’d been having fun with lately. They never took anything too seriously, which was fine by Kai. Right now taking anything seriously just seemed like a waste of effort. After all, in the end, what was the point? You get all serious and the next thing you know, a freak national disaster and a freight train of water takes away everything you cared about.

The office door swung open and Kirk Cody, Kai’s manager—tall, blond and excessively tanned from spending too much time on the beach—leaned out. He wore his trademark Tommy Bahama gear from head to toe. “Sorry about that, Kai! You ready?” Kai walked in and was quickly surrounded by pictures of himself: him endorsing all kinds of products; him on a Wheaties box; him launching his clothing company nearly two years ago.

Kai had made Kirk rich, but Kirk had done the same for Kai. Kai never thought in marketing terms. He just liked to surf. When Kai was at the top of his surfing game, the relationship worked perfectly. These days, however, Kai felt as though it was only a matter of time before Kirk found out his knee hadn’t healed right. Then the endorsement deals would disappear overnight.

Hanging above Kirk’s desk was a giant photo of Kai surfing a stomach-churning nearly forty-five-foot wave at Mavericks, California, the break so heinous even some pro surfers steered clear of it. Kai thought about his performance earlier that week on a wave not even a fifth that size. He’d made his fortune risking it all on big waves, and now he couldn’t even stand upright on five measly feet.

“How are you, man?” Kirk asked Kai, who simply shrugged.

“Fine, I guess,” he said, studying the old picture on the wall.

A quarter Hawaiian, a quarter Japanese and half Irish, Kai had always felt as if he had the pulse of the water. All of his ancestors came from one island or another, and that brought with it a healthy respect for the sea. But lately, it felt as though he’d simply lost his gift.

A knock at Kirk’s office door drew Kai’s attention. He realized with a start that Bret Jon stood there. Bret was Kai’s tow partner, or had been, before the tsunami. Bret was the one who’d driven the Jet Ski that took him out to the big waves, the seventy-footers that no one could physically paddle to. Bret was also the one who had risked his life to go in and get him whenever Kai wiped out.

Bret glanced at Kai and frowned.

“You didn’t tell me he would be here,” Bret said. “You asked me to come here to talk about a new job. Now I see why you didn’t want to do it on the phone.”

He had good reason to be angry. Kai couldn’t look his once-good friend in the eye. He lived on Maui, so what was he doing here?

“Maybe I ought to go,” Kai said, standing.

“Both of you—sit. You used to be the best team in big-wave surfing, but now you’re not speaking.” Kirk looked back and forth between the two men, who weren’t saying anything. “You guys have been doing this for more than fifteen years. Come on, you and Laird Hamilton, Buzzy Kerbox, Sandra Chevally...you invented this sport. You guys found a way to surf waves that everyone else said were impossible to surf. Tell me why you girls are fighting so we can put this behind us.” Kirk leaned back in his chair.

Bret, who was built like a linebacker, all broad, hefty muscle across his back, stared a hole through Kai. “He knows why.”

“Bret, I said I’m sorry.” Kai moved toward his old partner, but Bret backed away, hands up.

“I don’t want your apology, man.” Bret’s eyes had gone cold and flat. “You can keep that, along with your endorsements and your clothing line. Just...stay away from Jaws. I told you once.”

“Bret, come on, man,” Kirk pleaded. “Let’s sit down and talk about this. The Big Wave Championship is coming up. You and Kai, you’re like gold.”

“Keep your gold,” Bret muttered, shaking his head. Kai wished he could say the right thing, but no matter how often he apologized, he could never make it right. He knew it and Bret did, too.

He felt a pang. He remembered, years ago, back when only a few crazy souls would even attempt a ninety-foot break, and yet there the two of them had been, taking turns towing each other into waves that should’ve killed them. They’d learned as they went, instincts and grit the only things keeping him upright and alive, out of the mouth of the beast. Together they’d been brave or crazy or both. They’d been pioneers. And now here they were, barely speaking.

“Look, Kirk, nothing personal, but I’m done talking.” In seconds, Bret had stalked out of the office. Kai watched him go, feeling as if a chapter in his life was closing, yet he wasn’t done reading it yet.