Page 93 of Catch a Wave

“Sleep. I’m a little thirsty, but mostly I need sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll get you water.”

I wake, who knows how many hours later, to a nurse taking my vitals, and Mavs still stationed on the chair next to me. Kai is here now. And my mom.

“Mom?”

“Bodhi, sweetheart. I flew out as soon as Kai called. How are you feeling?”

I don’t answer at first. The things I would say are fine to shout out on the water, surrounded by guys who basically eat adrenaline for breakfast. They aren’t fit for my mother’s ears—or Mavs’, even though she’s heard it all.

Finally, I say, “I’ve been better.”

My mom’s a rock. She’s survived a divorce, raised me single-handedly, and has been the kind of mother who never held me back, even when my passion took me into life threatening situations on the regular.

Mom steps closer and looks me in the eyes. “Bodhi Merrick. Don’t you dare give up.”

A choking noise follows her last word. She’s holding back tears for my sake.

“Okay.” I lie again.

I should say,too late. No one was in that water with me. Not one soul knows what I went through, and how thoroughly an experience can rip you of everything you ever held precious, and more importantly, everything you thought you were.

But these people—Kai, my mom, Mavs—they are everything to me. I’ve already put them through hell. I’m not going to add to their pain by sharing the depth of despair that, in a cruel twist of fate, has become my new permanent address.

Kai has taken a seat on the other side of me. A few of the guys from the surf trip show up later in the afternoon, or evening. I don’t really know what time it is until one of the attendants brings me a plastic tray with some shrimp dish and a sweet potato and taro mash next to rice. There are even two slices of pineapple at the top of the tray.

“Well, that’s not usual hospital food, is it?” my mom says in a cheery voice I’m sure is meant to lift my spirits and make me grateful to be alive.

My room feels crowded, and for once in my life I’m not digging being the center of attention.

My surf buddies fill me in on the parts of my story I didn’t witness while I poke at the food that should be appetizing. I can’t muster the desire to eat. I take a bite or two to appease the women who love me, but I can’t do any significant damage to the meal. I finally shove it away and lean back on my pillow.

Griff is regaling us with a blow-by-blow of my accident from his perspective. Surfers generally make great storytellers. When we’re not on the water, we’re talking up our experiences in the spirit of a fisherman sharing his latest catch.

“... The guys on the cliff were radioing to the guys on the water as to where you were. They kept getting a visual and then losing you. That slosh was insane, man.”

Mak chimes in. “Your board went out from behind you. The wave sucked it up and overhead. Then it plummeted like a rocket straight down into the pound at the bottom of the wave. I couldn’t tell if it hit you or not from where I was floating.”

Griff takes over the story again. “You got so close to the rocks at the north part of the bay. But you averted the worst of it. Once those guys had eyes on you, Jackson took off and went right to where you were. He pulled you out and draped you over his jet ski.”

“I owe him,” I say, numbly.

“That’s what they do, Bo.” Mavs’ quiet voice draws my eyes back to hers. She’s been more reserved than usual, her hand always on mine, or on my arm. She only got up to use the restroom once. I can tell this is wrecking her nearly as much as it is me, and that’s nearly worse than being held under a life-threatening wave.

Finally, after hours of visitation, people coming and going to see for themselves that I’m alive, or to recount their version of the accident, I’m alone in my room. Mavs and Kai and my mom were the last to leave.

Kai just quietly put a hand on my shoulder and looked into my eyes. He squeezed the spot where his hand was resting and nodded his head. Then he walked out. If anything felt like a pinprick of light in this whole dark day, it was that moment, and the way he knew I didn’t need more words from anyone. I’ve had my fill of encouragement and well wishers telling me how lucky I am to be alive.

Mavs left last. She kissed my forehead and then softly kissed my lips. I kissed her back, knowing it will be one of the last kisses I give her. I should have made it count, but I couldn’t even muster that kind of pretense. My life is going in a different direction. I need to think of her and what hanging on to me at this point in her career would do to her.

I lie here in the dark, my only companion the beeping of my monitors. A plan starts to form. I run the options through my head multiple times before sleep takes me under. It’s obvious what I have to do—for her sake. Mavs would never leave me. She would give up everything that matters to her to stand by me through this. All the while, she’d tell herself and me that this was temporary. She has no idea it’s over for me. And I can’t be the man who dashes her dreams and pulls her out of the life she loves. I won’t be the one thing holding her back when her lifeneeds to propel forward. She’s got everything to look forward to. I’ve got nothing.

The next day, I’m scheduled to be discharged. My concussion is manageable enough that the doctors say I can fly home to California tomorrow. I had to make that call—whether to stay in Hawaii or go home to Cali. My mom and my aunt can tag team caring for me. We have a doctor friend in Santa Barbara who recommended an orthopedic surgeon who can see me for my ACL.

Mavs showed up as soon as visitors were allowed here today. She’s snuggled on my good side, curled into me, her head on my chest, tracing patterns on my opposite arm with her free hand. It feels like I’m robbing her by allowing this kind of intimacy. It’s a deception, and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. But I’m grabbing up the last moments with her like a beggar.

“I’m going to cancel the competition,” she says softly into my chest.

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