South Beach Someone

Chapter 3 - Shane

Have you ever done something, something totally new, and yet felt like you've been doing it your whole life? Like this one thing was made for you, of all the people in the world. You have the feeling that you're good at it, even if you don't know what "good" looks like. You can just feel it in the way that others look at you, with that blank stare of awe, and you can feel it in the way that the adrenaline rushes through your limbs, and yet you still feel comfortable; at ease. Feeling like this is something you could do for the rest of your life. That's how I felt the day I picked up a surfboard. 

Sure, growing up on the Florida coast, you see surfers all the time. But it never crossed my mind that I would be one of them. When I was 5, my parents gave my brother and I boogie boards for Christmas and we went crazy for them. We spent all of Christmas day in the water, and it didn't matter that we didn't know any tricks. We just road waves or floated around all that day. 

But little kids can only do that for so long. Over the next few years, we got bored. With the amount of energy I had as a kid, I wanted to do something a little more reckless; more exciting. And, being the instigator I always was, I convinced Eli to do it, too. We started watching videos and trying to copy the kids we saw online, or even the older kids that were out on the beach behind our house. Eli and I started trying to see who could jump highest, or how could stand the longest on these short boards before falling. I broke my arm when I was seven that way. There was always that competitive side coming out, the one that is extra prominent in twins. 

Seeing all this, our parents got us each a surfboard for our 9th birthdays. This meant new tricks, bigger waves, and another thing to beat my brother at. At least, that's what I thought it would be all about.

But the first time I took that board into the water, something was different. A friend of my dad's was giving us lessons, and the first time I stood up, something changed. I can't even describe how amazing it was, feeling the water surge beneath me, and yet I had even the slightest bit of control over this powerful force. Of course, I ended up taking a digger after about 45 seconds, but I knew in that moment that this was a rush I never wanted to give up.

Sure, my brother enjoyed surfing just like many others, but I fell in love with it. We'd spend weekends and summer days out on our boards, but I would always stay out just a little bit longer, and get up just a little bit earlier. On days when Eli was tired and wanted to sleep in, or lazy and chose to stay inside and play video games, I went out in the surf. 

I think it also helped that it came more naturally to me. I'm not saying this in a cocky, bragging way; don't get me wrong. I mean, everybody has their thing. Michael Jordan is good at basketball, Mozart could play the piano well. Mine was surfing. And I wouldn't give it up for anything. 

So the first Saturday of summer started like so many others do. My alarm went off at 5:30, and as much as my head screamed for me to get back in bed, I got up and put on the first pair of swim trunks I could find and headed down the stairs. Grabbing a granola bar from the kitchen, I slid open the door to our back deck. As always, the smell of the salty ocean air woke me right up. Grabbing my board, I bounded down the stairs onto the sand and headed toward the surf.  

The swell looked pretty good this morning, as it always does the morning after a summer storm. Hitting the water, I waded out until the water came to my waste before climbing on my board and paddling out. Just as I got out far enough, I spotted my first wave on the horizon. After waiting patiently, I was able to paddle out and catch it. 

Getting to my feet, I could feel my blood pumping as a shifted my weight to balance. There was that feeling again. My adrenaline coursing through my veins, my muscles tight but in control. A smile broke across my face as I successfully rode back into shore. 

I stayed out in the water until about 7:30 when I turned around to catch a wave and saw Eli standing on the shore. As usual, he handed me a towel and a t-shirt as I came out of the water, and then waited as I ran back to the deck to drop off my board. 

Walking back down, I had pulled on the light blue t-shirt he'd handed to me and was toweling off my blonde hair when he said, "New supply shipment is coming in at 8:00, so we will have to unload it all and get it put away before tonight. Then we have the summer wait staff coming in at 10 to discuss scheduling. The lunch rush will pick up at around 11 and then the..." He stopped. "Shane?"

I noticed his pause and stopped as well. If we're being honest, I wasn't paying attention to him. There were two bikini-clad girls who were pretending like they hadn't noticed us laying on towels under an umbrella. 

You could obviously tell they were tourists because A) they had brought way too much stuff to the beach, with sand chairs and an umbrella that looked like it got used maybe once a year, and B) they weren't very subtle when it came to the giggling and staring. That's a sure sign of a tourist because girls on vacation tend to get a little careless, not caring if they giggle like an idiot in front of people they don't know because they never have to see them again. That being said, beautiful tourist girls are still beautiful girls, and are therefore still good for a little fun. 

"Morning, ladies." I said with a smirk in their direction, and they fell back into their fit of giggles.

"You totally didn't even hear a word I said." Eli said with a smirk. "How is it possible that you can get any remotely attractive girl in a two mile radius to react like that?"

"Hey, it's a curse." I say, returning the smile. "Someone's gotta live with it." 

He just shook his head. "What I was saying is that the band for tonight is coming by around 3 to drop some stuff off, and I was hoping you could be there to let them in."

"Sounds good." I said, climbing the stairs up to the boardwalk. We walked to the first little building to the left of the stair case, the last one on the boardwalk, and Eli pulled out a key from a chain around his neck and unlocked the front door. Pushing it aside and then pushing through the beads that serve as the door while we are open, we headed into the cafe.

The familiar smell of the place reminded me of summers past. My brother and I had been managing our family's juice cafe for 3 years now, going on 4. It started as a part time job at 15, supervised by my father, but he slowly handed over the reigns over the years. He and my mother own a chain of hotels in the southern part of the US. With every expansion, the little cafe on the board walk became more insignificant, until it basically became ours.

But it was never insignificant to my brother and I. While our parents like the glitz and glamour that comes with a hotel chain, I've always liked how personal our little juice bar is. I've gotten to know all the locals over these few years, both the customers and the local businesses that sell us supplies. I get to know the families that come in when it is too hot out and need to quiet their wailing children, and I get to converse with the old men that come in early every morning and order nothing other than a small black coffee. Being a small business in this community makes you a part of something, and that's always been something special to me.

Looking around, I thought about the season-opening party tonight that we always held to kick off the summer, and I felt a little jolt of excitement run through me. Then I began pulling the chairs down off the tables, getting ready for the busy day ahead.