Surfing With Gods

Eilon let out a sharp breath as a wave crashed over the front of his board. He spat out the briny water that flooded his open mouth and shook the wet from his eyes. 

I need to stop drinking so much of the ocean. 

His shoulders ached and his eyes burned from the constant surge of salt but he plunged his right hand into the cold and propelled himself forward. 

The ocean was frothing. The undulating currents seemed inexorable as he waded through. Though small from the coast, on their surface, they felt enormous. Each crest was a mountain racing against gravity until, with thunderous power, blue water became a white torrent as the face crumbled into whitewash and hurdled toward shore. 

One more paddle, Eilon kept repeating as he slapped his left, then right hand awkwardly around the tan longboard. When the next wave came, he was ready. Arching his body back, he allowed the water to flow under him as the instructor had demonstrated earlier that morning. 

This seems far enough.

The waves were breaking several meters in front, but he was close enough that the white water would provide a decent ride. 

Eilon waited anxiously for the perfect wave—the one he would conquer and ride back to shore. Paddling hard over smaller breaks to avoid moving back, he watched the horizon. 

I’ll stand up this time, no matter what!

A large bump appeared several meters from him. It was clean, long, isolated, and rushing forward. Everything went still and he knew—this is the one. Turning the board, he prepared himself for the crash. Upon hearing the roar, he paddled as fast as he could. Adrenaline flooded his system, and a broad smile cut into his face as the back of the board picked up speed.

Eilon set his hands along the middle of the board and jumped up. Remaining in a shifting, unbalanced squat, he hollered as the whitewash swirled below. His hands teetered on either side of him like the instructor had shown, and he exclaimed as he reached the beach.

I did it!

Jumping off the board, Eilon eyed the break.

 I’d say I’ve mastered white-water. 

The swell wasn’t as daunting from shore. The waves were only a meter tall and from a distance appeared to gently approach the sand. Families dotted the coastline—children splashing, parents laughing, couples coupling. Eilon took it all in with a grin and threw his board down once more. 

Time for the big boys.

Cold water licked at him as he hopped onto the board and started the trek to the break. He felt like a veteran-pro, sprinting toward oncoming waves and craning back to let the water flow under him. 

The further he got, the bigger the waves seemed. They brought Eilon’s heart into his throat, but he was confident. His smile hadn’t abated, and he was getting close. 

The water calmed for a few minutes, allowing Eilon to reach the point where the waves originated. The start of the break. A few faltering breaths and shaking hands weren’t enough to turn him around now. He was there.

I hope this calm lasts a bit longer. 

No, what am I saying? I hope the swell of the day hits!

As though bidden by his thoughts, a large mound appeared several meters from where Eilon lay. A strong current pulled him toward the approaching wave and it seemed to swallow the water it passed, like a snowball down a hill, growing taller and taller until it was upon him.

Eilon turned and paddled as hard as he could. It was too late to bail. 

For a moment, the board caught and he felt it accelerate. Then he was flying through the air. A quick gulp of oxygen and —

Slap.

Eilon coughed in pain and closed his eyes, he was being pushed down by the crashing wave. His body rolled like a rag-doll thrown from a cliff. His teacher’s instructions to lay still and wait if caught were gone, as was his smile. The only thing pushing him was instinct. He fought the torrent, flailing against the air-filled water, as he tried to breach. His lungs convulsed and his heart raced. 

Is this it?

At last, Eilon’s head emerged and he drew a long, desperate breath. Upon opening his eyes, however, he saw the nightmare was far from over. A wall of black, with streaking clumps of white was falling upon him. He took a breath and prepared for the impact.

-----

“Give it back!” Jethrin cried, jumping in the air while his sister dangled a bright orange yoyo just out of reach.

“Come on, you almost had it!” she mocked, rolling her head back with laughter. Her brilliant yellow hair flew through the air as she laughed, dancing as though of its own accord.

“What’s going on here?” The door slammed open and revealed Jethrin and Elli’s father, Theadine, a bulking brown figure with short green hair and furrowed brows. Close behind him was Marrianne, their mother. She had long blonde hair, like Elli’s though it stayed by her side as she sauntered into the room, a frown across her violet face.

Elli’s hair stopped dancing and she looked at the ground and kicked her feet. “We were just playing,” she said as Jethrin snatched the yoyo from her hands.

“She stole my yoyo!”

Theadine’s eyes bore into Elli and she continued to study the floor, twitching with discomfort. “You know better than to agitate him, Elli.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“We’ll discuss this in detail later. Now leave us with your brother. It’s time he understood the impact of emotion.” Marrianne’s voice was gentle, but firm. Elli ran out of the room and closed the door behind her. 

Theadine let out a slow sigh and rested a heavy hand on the young boy’s shoulders. “Remember what we’ve told you about controlling your emotions, son.”

“I’m trying, but Elli mocked me! I don’t see what the big deal is, anyway. It’s not like I broke anything. I was just a bit loud.”

Marrianne gave Theadine a sad look before kneeling on the floor next to her son. “Your emotions have graver consequences than hurting ears, I’m afraid.” She nodded at Theadine who lifted his hands. As he did, the room was engulfed in shadow.

Jethrin sat up and his lips curled into an eager grin. I love show time!

But this show was different. In front of him, a blue orb with splotches of green and yellow came into view. White and grey whisps moved across the sphere as it rotated in the suspended air. 

“What is this?”

“This is one of our steward planets,” Theadine replied. “The inhabitants call it Earth.”

“Inhabitants?”

The globe disappeared, replaced by the scene of a family eating dinner along a long oak table. A bespectacled father, ponytailed mother, and three fidgeting children sat around a large turkey. Jethrin could smell the aromatic steam billowing from the bird. Rosemary, thyme—delicious.

“They look like us! They live on that blue planet?”

“Yes, this family, and billions like them. Many less fortunate than these,” Theadine continued.

“As stewards, our actions have consequences. Your father and I didn’t tell you this sooner because you were too young. You still are. Unfortunately, seven years to us are millenia to them, and we can’t spare your innocence any longer.” Marrianne held Jethrin’s gaze as she said this, her warm hand enveloping his.

“I don’t understand,” Jethrin began. 

“You control the water on this planet. Though you may still be several years from understanding how to bend it to your will, your emotional state affects its course.” Theodine paused and brushed his hand to the side, a tumultuous scene of warring waves filled the room. Jethrin cowered behind his mother as a dark wall threatened to crash on him. But there was no impact—the wave fell around them and the image faded back to the globe.

“That was a storm from minutes ago when you and Elli fought.” 

“Are there people in the water?”

 Marrianne nodded.

“Did I hurt them?”

“Four people died in that storm.” Marrianne’s voice was slow but deliberate. 

“They weren’t the first, were they?”

She shook her head.

“Show me.”

Theodine let out a faltering breath and pulled up scene after scene of destruction. Water flooded through streets, buffeted buildings, and carried away vehicles. Mothers cried as children were lost in the depths of murky waters. Jethrin watched quietly, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“There’s nothing you could have done to stop these things before. You were too young to understand,” Marriane said, pulling him into a tight embrace. Light returned to the room—the show was over. 

As another tear streamed down Jethrin’s face, he felt its effect. Something had awoken in him. Across the Carribean ocean, a storm sent sheets of rain onto the sea’s surface. Jethrin choked back a sob and dried his cheeks.

“I understand now.”

“I wish we could have kept you innocent for longer,” Theodine said, his voice heavy. “But the weight of godhood is not light, and cannot be ignored forever.”

“We’ll help you learn to control it,” Marrianne promised, releasing him from her embrace and staring into his eyes. “You aren’t alone.”

“I’ve hurt so many,” Jethrin said slowly. He felt a hundred years older. A hundred years wiser. A hundred years sadder. “But maybe I can help some too.”

A soft voice rang through his ears, and he turned from his parents to listen to its call.

“Help me.”

-----

Please make it stop. 

Eilon gasped for air, finally emerging from the onslaught. He knew he didn’t have another wave in him. He had thought the last would have ended him for sure. But no new wave fell. The roaring of the ocean had ceased, around him the water stood still like a blue canvas. 

A small rolling bump approached with a tan object on its surface. 

My board! 

The leash had broken after the second wave, he hadn’t hoped to see it again. The sky was a bright shade of blue and a warm gust of wind accompanied the board to his side. Eilon hugged it and rolled onto its top. His breath slowed as he lay, resting. 

Am I dead? What’s going on?

The sun warmed his face and birds flew overhead, filling the air with sweet melodies. 

The board shook, a small wave surged underneath, he watched it flow to shore as though asking if he’d follow.

Not yet, he thought and the ocean remained still. Far in the distance, he could see little people gazing forward. He’d been carried far into open water during the torrent. 

Eilon stared back and let out a slow sigh of relief. He felt very much alive, but none of what was happening made sense to him. He peered over the side of his board and saw his own reflection as clearly as though he were staring into a mirror. 

Then a voice came out of the water and into his mind.

Want a ride? Don’t worry, I won’t let it hurt you. Just stand up and I’ll take you to shore.

It was the voice of a child. Eilon nodded and got to his feet, too dazed to question his circumstance. The board wobbled, then steadied. A wave surged underfoot and propelled toward shore. Eilon hopped into a squat and smiled.

“Thanks!” he called into the open, his board carving along the face of the wave.