Killer Waves
What was I thinking? Golden rays shining through the silvery clouds gave Anahola Beach an amber glow. A steady surf of soft, rolling waves crashed onto the beach as Gage and I strolled along it, leaving twin sets of footprints in the sand. We were celebrating our 10th anniversary and were still very much in love. Down the way, three kids, probably 12 or 13 years old, were catching those soft waves, gliding over the surf with their chests high and arms stretched out. They then floated on their backs, waiting for the next wave. The local boys, or 'maoli' in Hawaiian, made bodysurfing look easy. “Don’t even think about it,” Gage said, anticipating my reaction to the sight. “You are not going to try that.” “I might, just a little bit,” I answered. “Oh, no, you’re not,” Gage scolded. I kicked some sand with his toe and decided to play the Scolding Game. “Man, I never get to go bodysurfing,” I grumbled. “All the other kids get to, but I don’t ...” “If all the other kids jumped off a ...