Life After You

Chapter 10

Is surfing in the night, specifically past midnight a good idea to surf?

Google says 'The biggest danger of night surfing is of course low visibility. Lesser the light, more prone you are to get hurt or to get disoriented when a wave hits. This means that you should be well prepared when you are surfing at night.' I don't see a big fat 'no' in there so I guess I just have to be prepared if something happens.

"You stole it?!" I almost shriek when Jeremiah tells me he 'just took' a board that no one was using which was lying on the sand.

"Calm down. No one was there, besides, I saw a different guy having the same so if the owner thinks somebody stole it, hopefully he goes there first so that gives us time to-"

"To put the board where it was and pretend nothing happened with that board." I finish his sentence and he smirks. I sigh.

"What are you waiting for? Get in there" Jeremiah nudges my arm playfully.

"Have you done this before?" I ask him, removing my slippers and setting it next to the quilt we were laying on and start spraying body spray that literally says 'ridiculous idea' all over my body hoping whatever fish I come across would smell that more than my blood.

"What, spray perfume all over my body?" he teases. "I have surfed a couple of times. Haven't done it in a while" he admits. My subconscious screams 'All The More Reason To Sit This One Out'. I ignore her.

"Great. Let's just hope I come back in one piece" I attempt to joke while I make my way towards the ocean. It looks calm tonight. "So how do I start?"

"Try sitting in the middle of the board and try to paddle yourself around, get used to the waves" he says and when we go deep enough. By deep enough, I mean, standing on my tiptoes to keep my nose out to breathe while Jeremiah calmly stands, the water only reaching his mid stomach. Tall people!

"O-kay" I say and lift myself up and swing my leg on the other side of the board.

"Now paddle for now." he instructs, I nod. I lie on the board (because I've seen people doing that in the movies) and move my hands in free-style. It works. This feels like training freestyle in swimming back in fourth or fifth grade. I used to swim back in school (it was the only sport I was actually good at apparently) I kind of liked it. I loved the water and being in it (minus when it's boiling). It sort of felt like home to me in some weird way.

"You sure you haven't done this before?" Jeremiah asks when I paddle myself the eighth lap.

"Yup. why?"

"You seem pretty good at it." he beckons.

"Thank you. I think it's the movies I've watched growing up." I say and continue the paddling for about ten more minutes and then take a break.

The next hour goes by with me trying to swim with the board towards a wave to see if I could handle it without falling off the board. Very safe, I know.

I fail a couple of times and even scare Jeremiah but when he sees that I can manage and swim back to the shallow side of the ocean he calms down a bit. I don't know if he noticed but I'm actually having a great time (even with the water going in my nose and failing to stand on the board without being knocked down by the waves).

After Jeremiah says it's late enough and that it's time for bed, I oblige and help to gather the quilt and stuff and walk to our rooms. I bid him good night first, feeling the exhaustion kick in from the day and all the energy I had to use earlier.

I only go to bed when it's fifteen minutes to 3 in the morning once I've noted down the day's events in my journal. Call me 'cliché' but I'll be blissfully re-reading all of these good memories five or ten or more years from now and maybe even reliving those moments or just enjoying reading them, picturing them in my mind, cherishing them...