Swell (32 page)

With Ruby taken care of by the people who knew her best, I turned my attention to Jason. He was crumbling before my eyes.

‘Why did I not go surfing with him?’ he said over and over. ‘I could have prevented this. If only I hadn’t said no. If only I had been a better person to him. If only I…’

If only. All of us dwelled on those two words. If only Rory had never paddled out that day. If only the Tiger Sharks had left him alone. If only I had told Jason about the threats. If only the wave had been more gentle. If only… It was a pointless exercise but it was inevitable. We would all have changed things if we could have but in wishing
if only
we were deceiving ourselves into thinking we had the power to change the course of Rory’s life.

The day after Rory died, Jason displayed a calm strength that carried us through the first few painful hours. The second day he closed himself off to the rest of us and sank into a silent turmoil. On the third day, Jason was angry, which only increased on the fourth and fifth days. At first the anger was directed at himself, then at Cain and the Tiger Sharks whom he held responsible for the accident. An inquiry had been launched into the incident and Jason reported his beliefs to both the police and the North Shore Lifeguards. The problem was Orca and his crew had not actually held Rory underwater until the life drained out of him. We had seen them berate him and interfere with his attempts to catch waves but that happened often, if to a lesser extent, in the surf. There was no doubt they had upset Rory, probably to the point of exhaustion, and their bullying had caused him to take a wave he might otherwise have avoided, but the final decision to take the wave had been his. None of us could prove Rory’s death was as a direct result of their actions and it soon transpired that no independent witnesses were willing to point the finger of blame at
a gang who were apparently capable of causing something as unthinkable as the death of one of the world’s best surfers.

On the fifth day, Jason’s hatred turned on the one thing he had always loved; the ocean. I immediately realised this threatened to destroy everything he had ever worked for. With eyes as black as Cain’s, Jason told me he could not allow himself to forgive Mother Ocean for what she had done and he was resolute in wanting nothing more to do with something that could be so destructive. He tied himself in knots wondering whether if he had managed to save the man in Hossegor, Rory would also have been saved. He dwelt on every negative, mulling over the aftermath of the tsunami and Wyatt’s life-changing accident that had left him paralysed.

‘But Wyatt isn’t bitter about what happened,’ I tried to gently argue. ‘He adores the ocean to this day. He loves surfing and being in the water is what helps him carry on.’

‘Do you really believe he’s happy being like that?’ Jason hissed. ‘The ocean did that to him and now he has no choice but to surrender to it because his body is fucking useless on dry land.’

‘You would not say that to his face,’ I replied firmly. ‘He’s an inspiration to you and you to him. You had great fun together the day you first took me surfing. What was it again, only a surfer knows the feeling?’

Jason said nothing.

His hatred for the very thing that had brought him self-esteem, wealth, success, fame and a purpose in life frightened me. I knew Jason was lost without his best friend but to also lose the passion that had driven him out of a hard life and around the world’s most beautiful beaches would destroy him.

I called his father in the hope that the man who had instilled in Jason the passion for surfing would be able to do so again in time.

‘Jason lost one brother in childbirth, the other is in jail and now the young man who had become like his third brother has gone. He is devastated, Ricky. He is trying to be strong but at a time like this I think he needs family. He needs you.’

‘I don’t think I can come, Bailey,’ Ricky said after a pause, ‘I’ve got the dogs and cattle and the horses and it’s expensive and…’

I was surprised by his unwillingness.

‘Jesus will look after the ranch and I can arrange the ticket for you. Please, Ricky. I don’t know who else to turn to.’

Ricky made no promises. All I could do was buy his ticket and hope he would appear. Hoping at the same time that I had done the right thing.

When a surfer dies the tradition is to hold a paddle out memorial service in the ocean. Rory’s memorial was scheduled for exactly a week after his death. The news had shaken the entire surfing community, reminding each of them who surfed of their own vulnerability and, indeed, mortality. We received phone calls, emails and cards from thousands of surfers as far afield as Chile, Australia, New Zealand, Reunion Island, Barbados, Ireland and Scotland. Chuck and I thanked as many people as we could for their thoughts and prayers, informed them of the memorial arrangements and put every message no matter how small aside for a time when Ruby would be able to find comfort from the reaction to her beloved fiancé’s death.

‘How is she doing?’ I asked her mother the day before the memorial.

‘She’s like a flower that’s been left out in the sun with no water. Still pretty and delicate but wilting and dying in front of our eyes,’ her mother admitted sadly.

I assumed Ruby would not be strong enough to attend the ceremony.

On the evening of the sixth day, while Jason and I were preparing the flowers and palm leaves to scatter in the ocean at the memorial service, Jason finally broke down.

‘I miss him so much,’ he sobbed. ‘How can this have happened? I don’t understand.’

I had no answers. Words of consolation were useless. I held him, just as he had held me in Spain. I felt the big, strong man tremble like a child in my arms. We cried until we could cry no more. We opened a bottle of rum and let the neat liquor burn our throats in the hope it would warm our hearts. We talked and we sat in silence. We held one another as if the world was about to end and then we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

When I awoke, I was still locked in Jason’s embrace. I opened my eyes and watched him sleep. His eyes were shut so tight he was frowning as if he was concentrating on shutting out the world. His breathing was shallow and occasionally a nerve twitched in his cheek. I pressed my body against his. I had never felt so protected and safe in my life.

It was, however, I who had to find the strength for the two of us that morning. Jason stared at the orchid leis and tears welled up in his eyes.

‘I don’t think I can do this,’ he said.

‘You can and you will because Rory deserves nothing less.’

I handed him his board shorts and a garland of flowers. It was not the usual funeral attire but this was not the average funeral. Surfers had their own way of celebrating life and, in death as in life, they very rarely followed the norm.

The air was still and silent when the enormous crowd filtered onto the beach from all directions. The main Kamehameha Highway from Haleiwa was gridlocked for miles and people had abandoned their cars in the traffic jam to walk the remaining distance to the beach at Pipeline. The first crowd formed a circle and then the people after that formed a circle surrounding the first until the entire circumference of the circle was thirty people deep. There were hundreds and hundreds of people on the beach and yet more were still visible in the distance walking silently along the sand to pay their respects. Over two hundred surfboards stood vertically in the sand in the centre of the circle, resembling tombstones in a graveyard.

Chuck and I greeted people and thanked them for coming but the numbers were so overwhelming I felt exhausted by the time Jason appeared with his board under one arm. He walked purposefully with his head down and the crowd parted respectfully to let Jason place his surfboard in the centre. He gazed around at the collection of boards and paused for a moment before raising his eyes and scanning the circle. When he spotted Cain and the Tiger Sharks on the opposite side of the gathering dressed in black shorts and T-shirts, he visibly stiffened and hatred flooded onto his face.

‘You’re not welcome here,’ he spat, marching across the sand towards them.

I ran to intercept him.

‘You did this. You and your gang of evil bastards did this to my friend. Get out of here.’

He stopped just inches from Cain, who firmly held his ground. I stopped beside Jason and gasped for air.

‘Please, Jason, this is not the time.’

Jason and his Nemesis faced each other unblinking.

‘I had nothing to do with this, Brah,’ Cain hissed. ‘I wasn’t even in the water when he took that wave.’

‘Maybe not but these animals of yours were and I’m not stupid, Cain, I saw what they were doing.’

I touched Jason’s arm.

‘Let’s deal with this later.’

Cain glanced at me and his steely gaze momentarily flickered. He knew I had witnessed his threat to Rory. He knew I could pull the rug from under his feet in front of
all these people. The temptation was there but I also knew it was not the right time for hatred and blame.

‘We’re here to honour Rory,’ I said quietly, ‘and I will not let anybody ruin that so let’s put the egos to one side and get on with celebrating his life shall we?’

Jason lowered his chin onto his chest and paused to take a few breaths before turning and walking away to the other side of the circle. I left Cain with a look that said
I know what you did
and then joined Jason. It was time to begin.

I held the notes I had made in both hands to stop them shaking. I could have tried to blame it on the wind but the air was as still as if God had switched off the wind machine and sent it in for a service. The ocean was also uncharacteristically still, with Pipeline glistening like the millpond it became during the summer months when the swells switched to the south. Even the palm trees had stopped rustling and a pair of old turtles that had been labouring along the tide line were now motionless beside the water. The only sound in the air was the occasional sniff and suppressed sob from those who were already overwhelmed by the occasion.

Petrified that if I waited any longer I would lose the strength I had taken all morning to muster, I began.

‘I only got to know Rory this year but this life on tour is intense, so in that time I came to love him as a very special friend. Rory was caring, kind and loving. He adored Ruby, his fiancée, with the sort of love many of us will never have the pleasure of experiencing. Rory doted on Ruby and when he proposed and Ruby accepted, the happiness they both felt was infectious. That happiness became something unquantifiable when Ruby discovered she was pregnant and all of us know Rory would have been a
fantastic father. I believe his spirit will stay with us to ensure his child grows up aware of how beautiful and talented a person Rory was.’

I looked up to try and compose myself and to stop the tears falling onto my notes. As I did so, someone delicately touched my arm. It was Ruby. She wore a pink dress and a cream flower in her hair. She held a hand-tied bouquet of the tropical flowers she had chosen for her wedding day. Her feet were bare. Ruby looked even more petite than usual and as breakable as porcelain but the pink gloss on her lips and her perfect oval bump gave her a glow that reassured me she would survive this. I pulled her into my arms and hugged her tighter than I had ever hugged anyone before.

‘Thank you, darl’,’ she whispered in my ear, ‘please continue.’

I nodded and turned back to the circle. People were either staring at the ground, lost in their own thoughts, or looking at Ruby with mixed emotions of sympathy and fear as if any minute she might self destruct in front of their eyes.

‘Rory was selfless,’ I continued, ‘and always ready to protect his friends and family. He stood up for what he believed in and he tried to guide those around him with a delicate touch. Likewise, he was guided by his mentor, Jason Cross, whom he loved like a brother.’

Jason did not move. His chest rose and fell and his arms were rigid at his sides. I pressed on.

‘Rory loved life and just before it was taken from him, he was on the verge of achieving everything he had ever dreamed of. We can question fate, we can be angry and full of hate for the invisible forces that caused this to happen, we can cry and dwell on the
tragedy and we can drive ourselves to distraction trying to find a reason for something so truly awful.’

Jason’s fists clenched and opened and clenched again beside me.

‘But this turmoil, this overwhelming grief, this crippling fear of life, is this what Rory would have wanted for those he left behind? I don’t think so. Rory died doing the very thing that made him the man you all loved. To Rory and to many of you, surfing is not a hobby or a sport or just a job that you have to do because you are paid to do it. Surfing is what drives you. It’s your lifeblood and it drove Rory. It is what got him out of bed in the morning and made him race through the house to see the ocean before he even had a cup of coffee just to check what the waves were doing. It filled his waking thoughts and it filled his dreams. It was his passion and even though it came with obvious risks, Rory took those risks on board and carried on regardless. He was neither reckless but the chance of catching a wave that surpassed all others was enough to spur him on. I remember Rory once telling me – “Life is all about risk. It can be dull as hell if you don’t risk it once in a while.” – and he was right. He took risks and in the end it may seem as if he lost but Rory truly lived. Look around at all the people here his short life touched.’

The heads of the crowd lifted and they acknowledged each other. I recognised pain in their tear-stained faces but some were smiling, already letting Rory’s memory become a positive thing.

‘Rory knew life would not go on forever and just recently Rory shared with Ruby, Jason and I how he would like to be greeted at the gates of heaven.’

A tear rolled down my cheek and I paused when Jason gently took my hand. Ruby then took the other and we all squeezed hands before looking up at the clear blue sky above us.