Page 23 (1/2)
A few bucks The 900 nuht hundred thousand calls each year, at two dollars a pop Ironically, Bobby the slacker and surf rebel has probably becoh no one realizes this and although he gives awayinto a chair in front of one of the coet your brains blown out, think about this" As Orson cocked his head to watch the screen, Bobby ha up new data
Most of the re half million of those six million surfers sit out waves above, say, fifteen feet, and probably fewer than ten thousand can ride twenty-footers, but although these more awesoher percentage of them want Bobby’s forecasts They live and die for the ride; to hborhood, would be nothing less than Shakespearean tragedy with sand
"Sunday," Bobby said, still tapping the keyboard
"This Sunday?"
"Two nights from now, you’ll want to be here Rather than be dead, I onna be sacred"
Perhaps three hundred or four hundred surfers on the planet have the experience, talent, and cojones to mount waves above twenty feet, and a handful of theh it is treacherous and likely to kill them A few of these maniacs are wealthy e storm waves, thirty- and even forty-foot behemoths, into which they are frequently towed by a helper on a Jet Ski, because catching such huge monoliths in the usual fashion is difficult and often impossible Worldwide, you can find well-forher no more than thirty days a year, and often they co maps, satellite photos, and weather data from nus, and his predictions are so trustworthy that theseof all clients have never complained
"There" Bobby pointed to a wave profile on the computer Orson took a closer look at the screen as Bobby said, "Moonlight Bay, point-break surf It’s going to be classic Sunday afternoon, evening, all the way until Monday dawn--fully pu twelve-footers?"
"Ten to twelve feet, with a possibility of so Hawaii soon…then us"
"That’ll be live"
"Entirely live Cooing to be an offshore wind, too, so these ive you more dry, insanely hollow barrels than you’ve seen in your dreams"
"Cool"
He swiveled in his chair to look up at ht surf rolling out of Tahiti or the tsuna out of Wyvern?"
"Both"
"Kamikaze," he said scornfully
"Duck," I called hi one who sits in the lineup and never has the guts to take a wave
Orson turned his head fro a tennis match
"Geek," Bobby said
"Decoy," I said, which is the sa duck
"Asshole," he said, which has identical definitions in surfer lingo and standard English
"I take it you’re not withup froo to the FBI They’re all paid by the other side What can you possibly hope to learn about some way-secret project at Wyvern?"
"I’ve already uncovered a little"
"Yeah, and the next thing you learn is the thing that’ll get you killed Listen, Chris, you aren’t Sherlock Holmes or James Bond At best, you’re Nancy Drew"
"Nancy Drew had an unreal rate of case closure," I reminded him "She nailed one hundred percent of the bastards she went after I’d be honored to be considered the equal of a kick-ass crihter like Ms Nancy Drew"
"Ka softly, shaking his head, scratching his beard stubble, Bobby said, "You , and Bobby answered it "Hey, gorgeous, I totally get off on the new format--all Chris Isaak, all the time Play ‘Dancin’’ for me, okay?" He passed the handset to me "It’s for you, Nancy"
I like Sasha’s disc-jockey voice It’s only subtly different froinally deeper and softer and silkier, but the effect is profound When I hear Sasha the deejay, I want to curl up in bed with her I want to curl up in bed with her anyway, as often as possible, but when she’s using her radio voice, I want to curl up in bed with her urgently The voice comes over her from the moment she enters the studio, and it’s with her even when she is off-mike, until she leaves work
"This tune ends in about a ot to do some patter between cuts," she told me, "so I’ll be quick Soo, trying to get in touch with you Says it’s life or death"
"Who?"
"I can’t use the name on the phone Promised I wouldn’t When I said you were probably at Bobby’s…this person didn’t want to call you there or come there to see you"
"Why?"
"I don’t knohy exactly But…this person was really nervous, Chris ‘I have been one acquainted with the night’ Do you knoho I ht
It was a line from a poem by Robert Frost
My dad had instilled in me his passion for poetry I had infected Sasha
"Yes," I said "I think I knoho you mean"
"Wants to see you as soon as possible Says it’s life or death What’s going on, Chris?"
"Big surf co in Sunday afternoon," I said
"That’s not what Isurf Can I handle it?"
"Twelve-footers"
"I think I’ll just Gidget-out and beach party"
"Love your voice," I said
"Sh he had only heard my half of the conversation, Bobby relied on his uncanny intuition to figure out the tone and intent of Sasha’s call "What’re you walking into?"
"Just Nancy stuff," I said "You wouldn’t be interested"
As Bobby and I led a still-uneasy Orson onto the front porch, the radio in the kitchen began to sith "Dancin’" by Chris Isaak
"Sasha is an awesoreed
"You can’t be with her if you’re dead She’s not that kinky"
"Point taken"
"You have your sunglasses?"
I patted my shirt pocket "Yeah"
"Did you use some of my sunscreen?"
"Yes, Mother"
"Geek"
I said, "I’ve been thinking…"