Page 17
Story: Better Than Revenge
“Basically Mom,” I said. “Maybe Corey if he’s not too busy forus.”
“Hi, Corey,” Grandma said. “Come visit me.”
“He was just here,” I said.
Grandma was thoughtful for a moment. I’d edit out her silence later. It was interesting to me how she could remember her childhood in detail but last week was hard for her. The doctor said that was typical of her illness.
“Tell me more about this surfer,” I prompted. “It sounds like you became friends.”
“Yes, we did. He was a firecracker.”
“Like you?” I asked.
She patted my hand. “Like you, baby girl. Keep your explosive spirit. It will help you make your dreams come true.”
I swallowed, a lump rising up my throat. Maybe I wasn’t like my grandma thought because all my dreams seemed to be slipping through my fingers. Maybe I’d never had a tight hold on them to begin with. “I’m trying, Grandma.”
“I know you are.”
I shifted the subject back to her. “So, uh, Andrew?”
“That first meeting was an entire year after we moved here. I was fifteen. I would walk the beach as the sun rose, and he was out there nearly every morning. I’d end up at that lifeguard tower, watching. He was like a skater on ice, graceful and athletic.”
“Sounds like he was a pro or something.”
“He was very good. I didn’t think he noticed me. But then he came out of the water, asking me if I’d save him. Months later, he approached me again with his board and said,Do you want to take it for a spin?I said,I don’t know how to surf.He said,You learn things by trying them, not by watching them.”
I took her hand in mine because she was twisting the cord again and I didn’t want the feedback. “What did you say?”
“I said,I learn things faster with a teacher.”
“Grandma, you were a flirt,” I said with a laugh.
“He was very handsome and I hadn’t experienced much rejection yet, so I was bold.”
“Is that what makes us less bold? Rejection?”
She met my eyes, and it was like her soul could see into mine. “It certainly has the ability to make us second-guess ourselves, doubt our abilities. Don’t you think?”
I nodded, which was such a rookie podcast move. Listeners couldn’t hear a nod. “Yes, I agree,” I said, finding my voice.
“But I was fifteen and I thought I could conquer the world,” she said.
“What did he say when you implied he should teach you?”
“He said,I’m an excellent teacher.And he was.” She pointed to some pictures I had up on my wall of me and Deja and Lee and Maxwell. “Can you get my pictures, hon? I have some from that summer.”
I cringed. I hated reminding her of this fact, but she forgot often. “Um, you had a house fire and lost your pictures.” She seemed to be having a good memory day today, so I thought she could handle thatnews.
“Oh…right. My surfboard? That wasn’t in the fire. I can show you that.”
“Uh…I don’t think you had a surfboard,” I said. I didn’t even know my grandma had ever surfed. This was the first I was hearing about it. “Did you actually learn how to surf that summer?”
“I did have one,” she said. “Andrew gave it to me. He’d painted on it. It was beautiful. I had it.”
Sometimes she went from zero to agitated really fast, and I sensed that was going to happen now. “You did,” I said, trying to appease her. “I don’t know where it is.”
She settled a bit. “I better go ask Debra if she’s seen it.” Debra was my mom. Grandma took off her headphones and left me sitting there at the desk.
“Hi, Corey,” Grandma said. “Come visit me.”
“He was just here,” I said.
Grandma was thoughtful for a moment. I’d edit out her silence later. It was interesting to me how she could remember her childhood in detail but last week was hard for her. The doctor said that was typical of her illness.
“Tell me more about this surfer,” I prompted. “It sounds like you became friends.”
“Yes, we did. He was a firecracker.”
“Like you?” I asked.
She patted my hand. “Like you, baby girl. Keep your explosive spirit. It will help you make your dreams come true.”
I swallowed, a lump rising up my throat. Maybe I wasn’t like my grandma thought because all my dreams seemed to be slipping through my fingers. Maybe I’d never had a tight hold on them to begin with. “I’m trying, Grandma.”
“I know you are.”
I shifted the subject back to her. “So, uh, Andrew?”
“That first meeting was an entire year after we moved here. I was fifteen. I would walk the beach as the sun rose, and he was out there nearly every morning. I’d end up at that lifeguard tower, watching. He was like a skater on ice, graceful and athletic.”
“Sounds like he was a pro or something.”
“He was very good. I didn’t think he noticed me. But then he came out of the water, asking me if I’d save him. Months later, he approached me again with his board and said,Do you want to take it for a spin?I said,I don’t know how to surf.He said,You learn things by trying them, not by watching them.”
I took her hand in mine because she was twisting the cord again and I didn’t want the feedback. “What did you say?”
“I said,I learn things faster with a teacher.”
“Grandma, you were a flirt,” I said with a laugh.
“He was very handsome and I hadn’t experienced much rejection yet, so I was bold.”
“Is that what makes us less bold? Rejection?”
She met my eyes, and it was like her soul could see into mine. “It certainly has the ability to make us second-guess ourselves, doubt our abilities. Don’t you think?”
I nodded, which was such a rookie podcast move. Listeners couldn’t hear a nod. “Yes, I agree,” I said, finding my voice.
“But I was fifteen and I thought I could conquer the world,” she said.
“What did he say when you implied he should teach you?”
“He said,I’m an excellent teacher.And he was.” She pointed to some pictures I had up on my wall of me and Deja and Lee and Maxwell. “Can you get my pictures, hon? I have some from that summer.”
I cringed. I hated reminding her of this fact, but she forgot often. “Um, you had a house fire and lost your pictures.” She seemed to be having a good memory day today, so I thought she could handle thatnews.
“Oh…right. My surfboard? That wasn’t in the fire. I can show you that.”
“Uh…I don’t think you had a surfboard,” I said. I didn’t even know my grandma had ever surfed. This was the first I was hearing about it. “Did you actually learn how to surf that summer?”
“I did have one,” she said. “Andrew gave it to me. He’d painted on it. It was beautiful. I had it.”
Sometimes she went from zero to agitated really fast, and I sensed that was going to happen now. “You did,” I said, trying to appease her. “I don’t know where it is.”
She settled a bit. “I better go ask Debra if she’s seen it.” Debra was my mom. Grandma took off her headphones and left me sitting there at the desk.
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