A cappella

Chapter 5: With The Waves

Max walked away from the beach, and passed the waves towards the horizon, lying on his surfboard.

A wave, another wave... ever bigger, ever stronger. Receiving water slaps in the face, violent sea bursts, but Max loved that fight against the ocean, that body to body intensity...
then he would stand on the board, keeping the legs bent, arms outstretched, body and mind alert and feeling the power of the waves that came from afar, wide and huge, to lift him and throw him back to shore like a wisp of straw.

He always ended up falling but returned back as far as possible, to take a new wave and try his luck again.

The main beach of Biarritz offered sunbathing for the Toussaint holidays.

There were people, almost as many as in summer, few bathers but of course surfers in wetsuits, sportsmen playing beach volleyball, some ran the waterfront along the beach, others who were collecting shells and those who simply observed others.

Max finally had had enough and decided to return his board and surfing combination back to the surfing shack.

The young employee who handled the leasing of equipment had discussed with him for a bit. Max spoke to him in English and the other was pleased to show that he was capable of responding. 

"Where are you from?" he finally asked. "Manhattan" had chosen Max. This was followed by a talk about the beaches of Long Island, where Max had sometimes surfed and both concluded that nothing was as valuable as the waves of Biarritz.

And then Max advanced back towards the beach, hesitating to go for a coffee drink at the beach casino, but finally decided to drop on the sand.

After two hours of intensive sport, he willingly lay down under the mild autumn sun, the eyes closed, listening to the sound of people around him.

After a half hour, the whistles of lifeguards had forced him to open his eyes. Two rescuers threw themselves into the water and the whole beach was frozen standing to watch the event.

"Unfortunately, this often happens," said an elderly woman standing near Max. People willingly spoke to each other here, Max had noticed, and especially, of course, when something happened... 

"I come here almost everyday...yesterday, rescuers intervened three times for surfers. They think they're invincible on their boards! But I've lost my husband at sea; he was a fisherman on a big cargo boat. A boat is much bigger than a surfboard, am I not right?... well, its nothing for the sea. We only found debris days later, washed up on the beach. That's what the ocean is! One has ought to know. If you are not from here, you wont be wary of it. Are you from here, young man?"

"No, I'm Austrian, Max said. My family lives in Vienna, I came here on holiday..."

 He sometimes looked at the woman who spoke kindly to him, delighted to have found someone she can share her stories with, and sometimes he looked back at the continued rescued operation.

"The current is too strong today, she said, they should have put the red flag down, but it's the sun that's misleading...look, the board has just returned to the beach alone, God knows where that poor surfer is now...nowhere to be seen."

"It's terrible," Max said, I just did two hours of surfing on that same board! It was an orange board decorated with a palm tree, which suited the beginners.

" Will you look at that...there comes the helicopter, that means rescuers have failed to find anyone. Poor guy...they will try to locate him from the top."

Max clenched his teeth. He quickly said goodbye to the woman as he advanced towards the water. He so much wanted to jump in the water, swim with all his strength and help the man in distress. He imagined his fear, when this game had given way to tragedy. 

Suddenly, the waves of Biarritz were no longer beautiful, they were cruel and their white foam had the taste of blood.

"He was taken by a strong turbulent, did you see that?" Said the people around him.

This drowning under the eyes of onlookers and tourists, became what seemed like an unexpected and interesting tourist attraction.

Max kept his tense gaze out to sea, beyond the first waves, where the helicopter hovered now. "provide it so he gets out of this, God, let it be so..."

Max thought his eyes fixed on the rescuers that he could barely see.

People were dying every moment, everywhere, every day, but not here, no not here, not in front of him!

Finally, the helicopter started airlifting a body. No one knew if he was dead or alive, and the helicopter was moving away now to the nearby Bayonne hospital.

On the beach, everyone commented on the event by small-improvised groups, while rescuers returned from their mission.

Among all the voices, Max recognized a female voice, with the Gironde accent: "yea right! Its really scary!!" 

He had not thought of her since his arrival to Biarritz, but he recognized her at first glance, wearing blue jeans and a shirt marine, her hair pulled back by sunglasses. He approached.

"Max! Is that you?"

"Marion...what're you doing here?"

"I told you I was a student at the Bayonne University. Today is so beautiful that I came to the beach with my friends... you okay?"

"You saw what happened? It could have been me... I just did two hours of surfing on that orange board, seems like the safety leash let go of his leg..."

"It happens often...the currents are very strong here, even a good swimmer is not safe from an accident...are you alone? Want to meet my friends?"

A moment later, he shook hands with Danielle, Flore, and Stéphane.

"I present to you Max, said Marion, He's from the Gironde, just like me, we're neighbours!"

The nerves still feeling sensible from the earlier incident, he thanked her with his brightest smile, which sent her heart a shock.

.....

What do you guys think of the Max-Marion relationship? Should they end up together?

Thank you for reading :)