Read Walk on Water Page 2


  Jake went on a fast, for fun, expecting them to let him go home, but they wouldn’t so he crossed over into malnutrition, and they said he was faking it but he passed out a lot and finally didn’t want to eat and forgot why he was doing it and got so damned depressed until he realized that if they commit him, he won’t have to go to Viet Nam. Their RA Ranger company commander said Jake was faking it so Jake embodied a case for neurosis because psychosis was too hard, but then he caught neurosis like a virus.

  Psychiatric ward #37 was filled with crazies rejected from Vietnam. Some couldn’t stop laughing or just felt most comfortable barking like a dog and crawling down the halls to lunch, or the over drugged sniper guy who got fat from the downers and talked like he was a wound down clock who woke Jake by holding hands to pray, and there was the guy in the padded cell who was patrol “point man” in Nam. He didn’t sleep and in ‘therapy softball’ played 1st, 2nd, short stop, and third… with no problems.

  So when the time had passed Jake got out; unfit for Viet Nam but back to the RA company commander, who knew he was faking it. Jake smiled, out ran him out push-upped him, and wore pink paisley stationary as liner for his helmet because when the commander bellows “What is the essence of the bayonet?!!” the troops yell “To kill without mercy sir!” but Jake would just tip his helmet and waited for discharge papers. A very strange game of 1969.

  In the end Jake worked it all to his advantage.

  Two day before Billy returned from Nam his wife left with one of Jake’s friends … and the passionfruit vine grew high and gnarly around the house, Lloyd stayed, and Jake became a surf star… but truthfully, Jake is a pirate and Billy is a hermit.

  So here’s Billy buzzing like he’s been reborn, thankfully feeling every grain of sand between his toes, and savoring breath like fine champagne! It’s a long smile before Billy says

  “Hi Jake.”

  Typically Jake is being followed down the beach by two drop dead gorgeous bikini clad women. Julia, the blond yet dark skinned girl under his arm makes green eyed Jake and her look like Vogue models. Women and dogs love Jake. Women know Jake won’t let them into his soul, so they trust him, dogs sense his innate primal-ness. Along with Jake and the girls is a tall smiling guy with a massive camera lens slung over his shoulder, who says,

  “Man you were going for it out there, you’re Billy huh? I remember you from

  California.”

  “That’s right,” Jake cuts in, “God I never see you anywhere Billy and here you are riding waves that made me a spectator!”

  “Well Jake most time I’m just riding the break at my house.” And Jake’s eyes flash enough to say he remembers it all and will leave bruised times in the past.

  To Billy the other young women seems more in focus; shorter, curvy, beautiful breasts, high Tibetan cheek bones that smile a fierce independence, oddly she wears a wool lined denim embroidered jacket over her bikini … and the cameraman is speaking

  “… well I got some great shots for my movie so thanks for putting on the show.”

  Billy smiles but only the young woman is in focus because his brain is still pausing, ‘I’m alive’; only the hyper connect of a woman could crash through.

  Some part of your brain wonders if she could fall with you into some rabbit hole of chemistry that mixes mind body and spirit, all the potential is there yet it could as easily evaporate; perhaps into another reality you choose not to inhabit, or the connection will just flat line from the beginning. Potentials is just potential.

  Jake introduces the cameraman as Hap and she is Nicole who is looking straight into his eyes and asks in a South African English,

  “Was that wipe-out frightening? It looked frightening.”

  After an awkward moment of uncontrollable gaze he answers rather dumbly,

  “It hurt down to my testicles.” Immediately thinking how weird that sounded.

  Driving home feels good. “I’m lucky to be alive Lloyd. Dinner for you, I think we’ll celebrate with a beer, and watch the sunset. We weren’t always alone were we pal but I love the simplicity, you, me, and the sea? … It did hurt down to my testicles, but what a dumb thing to say. ”

  CHAPTER 3

  Some guys are a party just by their presence. Jake is that guy.

  Standing at the entry landing at his house on stilts Billy looks out to the vacant waves and wonders, ‘What is it going to mean having Jake back in my life?’

  Because when Jake tells Billy, “a few friends, maybe a couple of girls, are coming over to play guitars”, Billy had to smile; and put away every breakable thing in the house.

  Above the sandy cove the fading yellow shack perches on the seawall; glassless storm shuttered windows on the fifty yard line of a football size ocean arena cloistered at each end by jet black lava rocks; sentinels or perhaps bouncers.

  The house was like a broken toothed street person that the world has trained the eye not to see yet holds the answer; simplicity.

  The tall overgrown fence separated this hidden sanctuary; a coconut palm growing business.

  In the grassy area between the house and seawall Billy parked his time worn Jeep; window cranks usually worked, the towels on the seats hide the split upholstery, and the muddled grey paint was once a shiny black but years of tropical sun and scrubbing with Ajax voided any real color into a nondescript grey. It could jump start in ten feet.

  Billy’s castle. He has nothing of value but owes nothing as well, not money or lip service. He is a self-made hundred-aire.

  On the weekend Jake arrives with a beautiful guitar under one arm and the young third generation local haoli Julia, under the other. They are a couple that just look good together; like models in a photo op. From Billy’s point of view, by the grace of God, Nicole follows with two cold Chardonnay.

  The four go to the sea wall to watch the beginning of sunset. Billy throws his legs over the wall next to Nicole who says,

  “We met that day you rode the big surf, remember?”

  “Ya, I do.” Nicole has a smell that is subconsciously familiar, ‘maybe she wasn’t offended by the testicle comment’. She speaks, he heard what she said but really, it’s a moment of magnetism. You don’t even know how much willpower it would take to escape. What is the cost for a moment or a year of magnetism? It doesn’t matter what words you are using or hearing. It’s the magnetic glow and if it pulls away for fifty years it will dance before you if you again get close. When you get sucked into that, you ought to go there; it is a dance.

  “Awriit Billy. The place looks great! All the plants have grown into trees. No wonder I don’t recognize the place when driving by. It’s like a garden instead of a car park.” Both men smile into bruised times.

  To cover Jake pulls out a joint. “Got some killer gonja form Jamaica here Billy.”

  “Ya, no thanks Jake. It’ll just make me feel like I’m falling off the planet.” “Gonja from Jamaica mon.” Billy chides.

  “Billy you got to flow with the times, and I know what you mean, like in the ‘60’s it was an anthem; freedom from the machine, plus it made us laugh until we’d almost pee our pants. Now it’s social and that’s ok with me, I’m keeping things light, uncomplicated, I’m determined not to let anybody or anything bring me down. No more depression, no neurosis, just surfing and loving life”.

  “I hear you’re front man for the Hui. Jake that’s got to be complicated, or at least dangerous. As for the joint, for you pal, I get ya but for me… well I’ll just fall off the planet. So, no Gonja.”

  “Billy mellow out man, come with me to get the beers out of the car.”

  “Jake where did this new Mercedes sports car come from? Pro surfing couldn’t be that good! Like, cars like this don’t really belong on the North Shore do they?”

  “It’s Nicole’s man. Mine’s the van.”

  “Oh”

  Jake says “So Billy Nicole’s really a good person. The love of her life, her husband, was my friend, a good South African s
urfer sort of political activist type surfer; he was shot dead by the people he was trying to help, life is weird man. Died in her arms in Joburg, and honestly you’re the first person I’ve seen her light up to. He left her a lot of money and a big heart ache. She’s educated, travelled, fiercely independent, did I mention really rich! Now Billy, I know you’ve been basically soloing it since Nam.”

  “Well Jake you’ll have to let me handle this one… but ya Nicole is nice.”

  Nice! You holy goof, this is a hot chick. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “Billy the whole scene on the North shore is changing. It’s no longer, if you don’t have a girl with you there aren’t any. The place is crawling with them! And the surf scene has changed since they started putting up big money for contests. Guys are becoming national heroes’ man. Like subculture rock stars, and along with that action comes well, a different way of doing things. Do you see what I’m saying Billy?”

  “Ya Jake, it’s the machine again, and man, insidious.”

  “Insidious, nobody uses insidious! And plus there is no sin in making money surfing.” “Insidious I say. Man something changed in the years between ’68 and ’74.”

  “Ya I’m making money surfing and love it!”

  Right... Or wrong but… I still love those days when being an amateur was a virtuous choice, contests where purely for the ego and for your club, tribal ya know? Like in Mexico, each club camped together and the comp turned into a sky rocket war and we blew up boards and cars and somehow it was ok. We didn’t care if anyone knew who won because it was for the guys who really know the passion. I think Mike Doyle won, but anyway that’s where I’m coming from.”

  “Well Billy the deal is different now and you’ve got a bit of a reputation from California. I mean we used to think you were the most soulful rider out there, which of course is why you never won any comps.” Jake says like a big brother. “But since your little insanity at Wiamea people are beginning to ask ‘who is that guy?’ Now Billy we all deserve a little return for those years of canned soup on rice and Opihi picked from rocks. Can you see what I mean man?”

  “I hear ya Jake. Go for it. Pro surfing suits you, but its’ not me man.”

  “Well here comes Nicole and THAT is where you should be going man!”

  Nicole hands Billy a beer and some of the others arrive and take up places on the grass or seawall. Lloyd sniffs everyone like a gentle bouncer, but shays away from Sunny Boy and his entourage. There is talk of old surf days and guitars are passed round, cold beers, ninethy rhythms, burnt orange horizon fades toward light green blue. Hap is taking photos of Jake and Julia, acoustic music and sunset.

  “Really!” Jake enters the little space Nicole and Billy had and then artfully speaks through to everyone on the lawn. “I never see you anywhere and there you were riding waves that made me a spectator!”

  “I don’t know if I’d do it again Jake.”

  “ Hey Haoli,” Sunny Boy a well-known Portuguese Hawaiian surfer, “You were just lucky, if tried that nine more times you’d drown them all Brah. A lifeguard could have drowned trying to save your houli ass.” Glaring bleary eyed Sunny says “Eddy Aikau came over for the afternoon session when things mellowed out brah. He’s the ten out of ten guy!”

  “Sunny you don’t even know Billy.” Jake defends

  “I know this frickin’ houli. This my dead auntie’s house he’s renting from my lolo Okinawan uncle. That house is for family brah… and this fricking houli wen cut the family koa surfboards to make tables!” Dead eye stare at Billy “I know you, you frickin’ Houli.”

  Polynesians, have deep warrior genetics. “Be cool Sunny” Jake say

  “You telling me be cool?” Sunny’s warrior is rising. “I’m telling you this nobody Haoli is too lolo to know he has no right to even be out there, he hasn’t paid no dues.”

  “Hey Sunny, Billy been around a long time, just not in anybody’s face.” Jake counters.

  “I’m in your face brah…and Sunny steps up to stand nose to nose with Jake, their eyes lock, for the moment all sound and peripheral reception melts, green eyes locked on black, been there before, he doesn’t know you’re shaking on the inside, then the moment returns. Jake is “akamae” enough to not step back until you’re ready to fight; the warrior will just advance. Stay cool.

  “Eye to eye, calmly Jake asks Sunny, “Do you want to fight?”

  Sunny is still ranting, as if he didn’t hear, Jake repeats,

  “Do you want to fight?” Sunny puffs up, raises his hands, Jake takes one clean step back, stay cool keep eye contact. Been here before, get him to charge with blind anger.

  Sunny takes off his shirt, screaming “Fricking houli!!”, then he takes off his pants and goes into a dramatic karate pose in his boxer shorts! Jake smiles. The moment melts again, eye to eye, Jake says,

  “Come on you fat fricking Hawaiian! You afraid?” get him out of his stance, Jake quickly eyes all of Sunny’s entourage who with most of the party have formed a circle around them.

  “Come on you lap dog fricking Hawaiian!” Jake’s into it now, a bit of alcohol and adrenaline coursing through his veins.

  “You come to my friend’s house, insult me and him you chicken skin frickin Potugee!”

  He doesn’t know you’re shaking on the inside.

  Sunny face turns red and he drops his head, arms out stretched and charges like a bull , like a bull fighter Jake smoothly slips into a duck under, goes behind locks Sunny around the waist, kicks the back of his knee and drops him like house of cards. One punch in the head then eye Sunny’s circling crew. Been here before, keep punching and you’ll get kicked in the back of the head. Jake lets Sunny up; one punch no harm.

  Sunny senses bad timing, ‘fix it later’.

  Sunny looks around, confused like everyone’s speaking a strange language.

  “What am I doing with you frickin Haoli’s?” Sunny downs his beer, shoots a “stink eye” glance at Billy, throws a beer can against the wall and leaves with his boys carrying his clothes.

  “Hum,” Billy says handing Jake another beer, before smoothing the vibe by refreshing everyone’s drinks.

  A clean acoustic melody line from Peter Moon dances into the night sky, Jake pours everyone drinks, and the Hawaiian sound of Gabby Pahinui pours into the melting pot of world music. Jake rolls cigarettes and flutters his ‘harp’ like a bird gliding over this still tropical evening, and the party is back on. Nicole pulls Billy into her space simply by opening her smiling amber almond shaped eyes. He thinks,’ it’s good to honestly return, a smile’.

  “You guys handled that well.”

  “Thanks, but crap I’m still shaking more than Jake.

  “Doubt that” Jake says as he jumps onto the sand with Lloyd. Jake and Lloyd talk geo politics and Julia lays back in the still warm sand.

  Billy says,

  Hey Nicole would you like to walk down the beach to that big rock?”

  “The one with that ghost of a skinny tree on it?”

  : Yes, it’s my neighbour, Nikido San’s, mango.”

  “How can it live out there? It’s salt water.”

  “Roots of steel” Billy smiles quoting Nikido

  CHAPTER 4

  “Well,” she pauses as if doing some sort of soul math and says, “OK.” As they walk Nicole takes him by the hand, more like a kid in school he thinks. The sand is still warm, the humid air, and the lapping sea to a last light horizon. There are moments like this where nothing can be added, whether you are independently wealthy or a gardener for estates on the hill.

  “Half moon rising Billy. I love the silver light on the sea.”

  “Yes, she’s beautiful.”

  “The sea?”

  “Yes.”

  “She?”

  “Yes”

  Nicole simply smiles. The slapping surf surges up around them and they play tag with it. Like children dancing on the shore, like lovers, like an old married couple with too ma
ny good memories to have room for bad ones. Playfully enjoying Nicole’s South African banter before taking her waist and pulling her to the sand; they wrestle into a simple kiss. He pauses to smell her skin and to touch her neck gently with his lips then simply brushes his lips across hers, light pressure, a moment, not sure if there might ever be another, but it feels like the center of the universe none the less.

  As they pause she says, “I liked that.” She kisses, gentleness lingering.

  The ocean rhythm around their ankles; everything is body temperature.

  Holding hands they walk back past that bus size rock with the ‘roots of steel’ mango back lit by the moon: wet jeans, and smiling. Billy says,

  “Years ago Jake and I spent a whole day on the big lava rock getting a feel for time.”

  “Hum, you are not getting hippy on me are you?”

  “Uh hard to explain that; explain that it’s easier to look forward with a friend from the past, at least for me it gave me perspective on the rest of my life; life truly is short, and sometimes uncontrollable; did you know I went to Viet Nam? ”

  “Yes, Jake described you as ‘reclusively unsociable; but honorable’.” Nicole looks at him and decides to reveal, “For me Billy life is, delicately uncertain, so sometimes I just reach out and grab the right now with all the energy I’ve got because I know you can… lose things, good things pass no matter how hard we hold on” She says, “and it put a hole in my soul… so our kiss, that was just to grab hold of time, the moment. Do you understand?”

  “I get that, and the hole in the soul. Viet Nam. But that rock is older than Plato, or Abraham it almost watches us blur by but ya, the only workable time is right now… so how do we participate in, now, with truth, honor and courage?. Like Mandela says, ‘courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers fear’, Mandela was imprisoned for life in ’64 and he’s still impacting the world.”