Page 63 of As the Rain Falls
I laugh, not taking him seriously.He splashes water onto my face, and I close my eyes to avoid it.
“I’m being serious! I could totally beat his ass, or something. You know I do capoeira twice a week now. I’m basically a weapon waiting to be used!”
“Don’t even bother.”
“Oh, man. Don’t tell me not to bother,” he whines. “AllI do is bother!”
“Don’t I know it.” I lay on my stomach, using both my arms to push me forwards towards the wave. “It’s not that big of a deal, Tony.”
He pushes, still not getting it, “But doesn’t it make you mad?”
“What?”
“How he doesn’t seem to care.”
“About Lucia?”
“About anything,Beckett,” Antony pauses to wipe some of the water away from his face. A wave crashes, nearly pulling him under. He yells louder, trying to gain back his footing, “I swear, it’s like he’s not even your dad, or something! It’s so weird!”
I let his words roll over me, not taking it to heart.Antony has a terrible lack of filter. He always blurts out stuff without considering if that’s truly the best way to put it. Raw and fast. His timing is often lacking, too. But deep down, I know his heart’s in the right place and he means well.
“I can’t let him get to me anymore!” I tell him, wanting him to understand, but I’m also mostly speaking to myself. “It is what it is, man!”
I’m about to live a long life full of disappointments if I keep expecting for something to change. My need for his approval is the last part of me I need to kill, the last bit of attachment I still feel towards my father. Once that’s fully gone, there will be nothing left.
I already don’t have an ounce of respect for him. Truthfully, I barely even know the man.
“My father’s not a normal dad,” I settle, not trying to get into the depths of all the reasons why Gregory Evans shouldn’t have become a father of two. “Compared to yours, at least, he never was.”
Marcos takes care of the house, watches over the twins, and helps them with their homework every single day. He’sdedicating his retirement to being a good father to all of them and doing social work in our community.
My father would never do something like that.
“Yes, but… Beckett, hold on!” Antony opens his mouth, but I ignore his pleads, already swimming away from him. “Wait up, man!”
Exhaustion hits me, making my eyelids drop. I blink hard to keep myself awake, the ocean becoming completely muffled.
Antony’s yelling is growing more distant as the ringing in my ear gets louder and louder.“A big one is coming!”
“Yeah,” I whisper to myself.
Adrenaline surges as I start to focus, followed by a sense of tranquility that I’ve been chasing all week. Two very distinctive feelings, I know. But that’s what surfing is to me: all and nothing at the same time.
It’s an acquired skill, not as easy as it looks at all. The first time I was allowed to leave the shore was a complete disaster. I couldn’t pedal with my arms fast enough, and as I tried to stand upright my hands slipped off the board. I fell head first, and my right ear knocked against the water, which nearly gave me an infection later on.
Falling stung so bad that I even sobbed. Dad drove me back home right after, scared to death that I was having an episode, but I just felt disappointed and my ego was bruised. Lucia made fun of me until I told her she had a horse face, which made her cry.
I was a good brother, but I wasn’t always a nice one.
I prepare myself to stand, but I don’t even last long enough to actually do it.
How ironic.
“Fuck!”
Less than a minute later, the water is pulling me under. I keep holding my breath, clutching the surfboard to try and breakthrough the surface. Everything becomes blue around me, and I open my eyes to try to see through the ocean. The wave is crashing right above me, and my heart is beating so fast.
Too fast.
