‘Really?’ She looked up and smiled at me, our eyes met and I turned away. She was such a different person today; I wished she were like this all the time.
‘This is so much fun,’ she said.
Then she squealed loudly.
I turned as my stallion reared up on his hind legs; instinctively I lent forward and pulled the reigns tight.
‘Whoa, Boy!’ I yelled.
Beside me, Pippa had done the same thing and nearly thrown Marcy from the saddle. In shock Marcy had let go of the reigns and was lying flat on Pippa’s back. The smile had evaporated and Marcy was grimacing as she tried to hold on.
‘Pippa!’ I said, but she took off at a bolt and I saw what had frightened the horses: a big King Brown snake was slithering into the bushes.
Marcy squealed loudly and I watched her bounce around on the back of Pippa. I knew it wouldn’t be difficult for her to slip off and fall under Pippa’s razor sharp hooves.
‘C’mon,’ I yelled and dug my heels into the stallion. He was a big strong horse and he bolted forward like a race car.
‘Hang on,’ I yelled after Marcy.
I raced the stallion up to Pippa so they were side by side. Marcy was clinging on to Pippa’s mane and she stared at me with big, round eyes. I could tell she was scared. I pulled the reins to the left so the stallion pushed into Pippa. I leaned in between the two horses and reached for Pippa’s reins. My shoulder rubbed on Marcy’s and I could feel her breathing on my neck. If I fell the two horses would trample me – their hooves would dig into me and mash me. Many people have died from being trampled by horses. Thankfully, the stallion was a good horse and he obeyed my controls – staying right beside Pippa.
‘Help me,’ Marcy squealed, expecting me to grab her.
‘Wait,’ I said commandingly.
The ground below me was flashing by like I was looking out a car window. The sound of thundering hooves was deafening, and my heart seemed to beat in time with them. I reached out as far as I could and swiped at Pippa’s reins.
Got them!
I sat up and pulled on both sets of reins with all my strength. Like I said, Pippa is a good horse if you control her. As soon as I pulled on the bit and showed her who was boss, she slowed down. Marcy was still lying in the saddle when I stopped the horses. I slid off and went around to the front of Pippa.
‘It’s okay,’ I said softly, as I rubbed her nose. I helped Marcy climb down as Dad, Mum and Mrs Bliss arrived. Mrs Bliss went to see if Marcy was okay and she burst into tears as soon as her mum wrapped her arms around her. Dad took the reins of the stallion as I explained what had happened. I could tell Pippa was still scared, she was shaking and quivering.
‘Mitchell, jump on Pippa. We’ll give them a quick run to settle them down,’ said Dad as he climbed up on the stallion. I swung up into Pippa’s saddle. ‘Good girl,’ I said. ‘Remember me.’
‘Ye-ha!’ said Dad as he slapped the stallion and raced off.
I clicked my tongue and flicked the reigns. Pippa knew that was my signal for her to canter and she raced off. We ran them for ten minutes before returning to where Marcy, Mum and Mrs Bliss were waiting. I got down as Marcy and her mum came over to me.
‘You okay?’ I asked.
‘Yeah,’ she said, nodding, but I could tell she was still scared; she was holding her mum’s hand. I thought Mrs Bliss would be angry, but she was smiling. I guess she loved horses and it had been a long time since she’d ridden.
Mrs Bliss turned to me. ‘You really are a good rider Mitchell. And your mum says you’re doing some vaulting too.’
‘Yeah,’ I mumbled. Vaulting wasn't very popular out west, but my mum thought it was artistic.
‘Vaulting?’ Marcy asked.
‘It’s nothing,’ I said.
‘Why don’t you show Marcy?’ said Mum.
‘Mum. No.’
‘I would really like to see. It’s been so long since I saw some vaulting,’ Mrs Bliss said.
‘What is it?’ Marcy asked, but she was looking at me.
‘Mitchell will show you. Won’t you Mitchell?’ Mum said.
Just at that time Pippa put her nose on my shoulder. She must have wanted me to do it because we always used to do it together.
‘Maybe.’ I slapped Pippa on her rump and she started to walk away from me.
I ran after her and reached up to grab the saddle, I jumped off the ground and swung up into the saddle. I grabbed the reins and clicked my tongue. She increased her speed and once again I felt the air flowing through my hair. I pulled on the reins and Pippa spun on the spot so that I was facing back to the group. I let go of the reins and leaned forward so I was rubbing Pippa’s neck. She started to walk forward slowly. I kept talking to her as I took my feet out of the stirrups and stood up on the saddle. I kept my arms out for balance and slowly walked along Pippa’s back.
I glanced at Marcy. She was watching me with her finger in her mouth. When she saw me looking at her she waved.
I had an idea.
‘Click, click,’ I went with my tongue.
Pippa broke into a gentle trot. I crouched on her and stuck my hands out – pretending to surf.
‘Surf’s up!’ I shouted.
Chapter 8
At school on Monday I saw Marcy a few times, but she was still hanging out with Kell. He’d won a surfing competition in some wild seas over the weekend and apparently had a huge fin gash on his stomach; he was showing everyone who wanted a look. I saw him at the end of the day and he called me over.
‘Hey, Witchetty Grub. This is why you don’t want to surf,’ he said. He lifted his shirt to reveal some scabs on his belly; it didn’t look like much. I'd had much worse from falling off horses. Steve had told me it was like a shark bite.
'It's pretty deep. I should've got stitches, but then I would have missed the final,' he added.
I knew he wanted me to ask how he went, but I'd already heard he'd won, so I just nodded and kept walking, leaving him to pick his scabs.
I went down to see Ryan. I’d entered in the Horseshoe Bend Grom Comp and I was running out of time – it was in two weeks! Fortunately, the surf was really good and I was able to catch some nice waves. It was funny, after standing on the back of Pippa, I imagined surfing a wave was just the same. When I thought about it like that, it was really easy. The problem was my board was still too big; I needed something smaller so I could do some moves.
***
‘Dad,’ I said tentatively during dinner that night, ‘what are you getting me for my birthday?’
‘I’m not sure,’ he replied and sighed.
‘Mitchell, leave your father alone. He’s tired,’ Mum said.
‘He’s always bloody tired,’ I replied.
He glanced at me with eyes that were bloodshot from lack of sleep. But it was true; he was always tired now.
‘Mitchell. Don’t talk to your mum like that.’
‘Why not?’ I demanded.
‘It’s not nice.’
‘I don’t care. I need a surfboard so I can enter the surfing competition. I’m going to sell Pippa.’
Dad raised his eyebrows.
‘Mitchell. You don’t want to sell Pippa,’ Mum said quietly.
‘Yes, I do! I need a surfboard. No one cares about horses. Or your stupid vaulting. Everyone surfs. You guys just don’t get it!’ I smashed my fork on my plate and stormed out.
I didn’t see Dad for the rest of the week; he was working even longer hours. I heard him come home one night, long after I’d gone to bed. He and Mum were talking loudly and I thought they were going to argue, but he must have been too tired.
On Sunday it was my birthday. Dad was working that day too and Mum had invited Mrs Bliss and Marcy over for a lunch. Marcy had even made me a cake with a horse on it, although I think her mum made it. After lunch we went down to the beach and I took some of the cake for Ryan. I figured I should give him something for teaching me to surf.
There were lots of good t
hings about asking Marcy to come to the beach. Of course she smelled of apricots and peaches, and I got to introduce her to Ryan – he whispered to me that she was cute and he could understand why I’d tried to kill myself learning to surf. But the best thing was, she let me use her board.
Ryan said it was a bit small, but it still made such a difference. It was like the difference between riding the stallion and Pippa. It was small and could turn more quickly than my old board. Ryan taught me how to a do a cutback in an hour and then I was able to show Marcy.
She was really impressed.
I walked her home and we stopped outside her house. I tried to summon the courage to ask her if she would come and watch me in the competition, but I knew she was going to watch Kell. She still talked about him a lot.
When I got home Dad was sitting in the lounge chair sound asleep. He still had his work clothes on and was snoring loudly. I almost felt sorry for him, he was working so hard. But I was still angry with him. Then I saw it; leaning up against the wall in the corner.
It was wrapped the way he wraps all his presents. He kind of sticks a bit of wrapping paper to the present rather than trying to cover it. Usually you can tell what the present is just by looking at it. I don't even know why he ever bothered, but for the first time it was the best wrapped present I'd ever had, even with the piece of paper on which he'd scrawled, To Mitchell, love Dad and Mum.
It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. It was pure white with a red thunderbolt down the front. I grabbed it and stood it up beside me, the wrapping paper slid to the floor. It was the perfect surfboard for me. Now I knew why Dad had been working so much. I sat beside him and gave him a big hug. He woke up and wrapped his arms around me.
‘Is that the right size?’
‘That’s perfect Dad. And it’s brand new.’
‘Well, maybe you can give it to Suzie when she grows up.’
‘Never. I’m going to keep it forever. It’s the best present I’ve ever had!’
I picked it up again. It was so new and clean. I needed to get some wax and a leg rope.
‘Mum, Mum,’ I yelled.
‘What?’ Mum said as she came into the room.
She saw the board and smiled. I jumped up and gave her a hug and kiss. She sat down beside Dad and gave me a plastic bag. ‘This is from Suzie.’
I opened it to find a leg rope and some wax.
‘Awesome!’ I ran into Suzie’s room to give her a kiss. I was so excited that I accidentally woke her up. But that was okay. I gave her lots of kisses and took her to Mum and Dad.
‘So when is this competition?’ Dad asked.
‘Next Saturday.’ Then I stared at Dad and swallowed as I realised he normally worked on Saturdays. I wanted to ask him if he would come, but I didn’t want to hear him say that he couldn’t.
‘Well, we’ll have to come and watch won’t we,’ Mum said as she put a hand on Dad’s leg. Dad just sat there, staring at my board. He didn’t say anything.
Chapter 9
I had one week until the competition and each day after school I went down to the beach. I wanted to name my board Pippa number two, but Marcy thought that I should call it something else, so I named it Nemo.
Marcy came down to the beach a couple of times too. Even though I had a new surfboard and was practicing every day, she said Kell would beat me because he’d been surfing all his life.
On the day of the competition Mum took Marcy and me to Queen’s Beach at eight am. There were people everywhere, kids, teenagers, adults, and families. There was even a radio station broadcasting from a big caravan set up on the beach. It had a big window where two people were sitting, looking out at everyone. When we arrived I saw that one of the people sitting in the window was talking to Ryan. I was going to go up and say hello, but then I saw that they were holding a microphone to his mouth and doing an interview.
Anyway, I was too excited. It was my first surfing competition. I think Mum was even excited and little Suzie kept looking around with wide-open eyes. Marcy left us as soon as we got there; I knew she'd gone to the cave in the bushes, but that was okay.
It was a lot like a horse competition. Two surfers went out and each caught a wave and did their tricks. Then they got a score from the judges and whoever had the better score went through to the next round.
In the first round I was against Steve. He’d only entered because Kell had. We paddled out together and then a hooter buzzed loudly, which meant the judges were ready and watching. Steve was getting bigger everyday and there was even more hair coming out of the top of his board shorts. Someone had said he'd even started shaving. I watched him catch the first wave, stand up and then fall off. I think his board was too small for him. He didn’t really care too much.
Looking back at the shore I could see everyone lining the beach watching us. I tried to see where Mum was, and wondered if Dad was there. He'd said he'd try and come, but he couldn’t promise anything, then he'd cursed the drought, the system, the government and his idiot boss. He'd never had a boss before. He’d always been his own boss.
Ryan had told me not to show all my tricks first, which was just like a vaulting competition. I could do lots of tricks on a horse. I could even do a handstand, but I hadn’t wanted to do that in front of Marcy because it would have been showing off. Ryan had said that you don’t show off until the final, then it's not really showing off – it’s about the best man winning.
So I just caught a wave, crouched down and surfed along the face. It was a small wave, but it was okay. The judges gave me a score of six point five and since Steve had gotten a score of five, I went through to the next round.
In the second round I was against a boy from another school. He acted a lot like Kell and ignored me as we paddled out. While we were waiting for the first hooter he told me he was going to win the competition. I shrugged; I was pretty happy just to have gotten through to the second round, even if I’d only beaten Steve. Once the hooter sounded he sat on his board and started swearing at the ocean – telling it to give him a good wave. I saw a nice wave coming that was about the same size as the first one I’d ridden. Ryan had told me that surfing is not always about the size of the wave; it’s about the quality of the wave. I asked him if he was going for it because he had inside water and he said it was a baby’s wave.
Well, that baby’s wave was a nice ride and allowed me to do some nice carves on it. They felt really good on my new board and the wave was perfect. I even thought I heard the people on the beach cheering.
The boy waited too long and when the hooter went again it meant he had to take the next wave. It was a big wave and he paddled hard. He stood up easily and I saw that he was a really good surfer. He flicked his hair just like Kell, stared at the wave and was about to do a trick when the wave collapsed. Waves do that. Ryan had taught me how to understand the ocean and determine which waves were good for surfing and which would collapse. There are many types of waves, some break nice and slowly, others just collapse in a heap of froth and are no good for surfing. He got a score of six-point-nine and since I’d gotten a score of seven, progressed through to the finals. Needless-to-say he wasn't very happy and sat there swearing like a pirate.
There was a break for half an hour before the quarterfinal. I found Marcy and asked her how she’d been going. She said she’d been knocked out in the first round by Chelsea, the girl Kell liked. I thought she’d be unhappy, but she told me Chelsea had a boyfriend and Kell didn’t like him. Marcy also said that Kell had been surfing really well with two scores of eight, and he was into the finals too. I had a look at the draw and saw that I was up against another boy from my school. If I beat him I would meet Kell in the semi-final. Seeing Kell’s name made me get short of breath and my heart started to pump faster. I drank some water to calm down, but my hand was shaking so much. I never used to get this nervous when I used to compete in vaulting. I looked for Ryan, but I couldn’t see him. I knew he’d be watching though, he was always watchi
ng the water.
The finals were different from the heats. There was an announcement calling the surfers into the water. I missed hearing my name because my heart was beating so loudly. Mum had to tell me to go down to the water’s edge. The other surfer, a boy nicknamed Roy, was waiting for me in the shallows. I’d never met him before, but I’d heard people talk about him in school. Even though he was the same age he was in the grade below. Apparently he’d repeated a grade because he’d gone surfing so much. He had an old board that was scarred with old clumps of wax.
He shook my hand, said let’s go and we paddled out together. He was really nice and even explained some of the rules for me. He’d won the competition last year and wanted to be a professional surfer when he finished school.
When the hooter sounded he took off for the first wave. It was a smallish wave, but he jumped to his feet like a dancer and carved the board up and down the face of the wave. Then half way along the wave he pulled off it and paddled back out to me.
‘What’s up?’ I asked.
‘Not good enough for a cutback,’ he replied.
I looked at the judges. I could see them holding up a score of seven-point-five. Not bad, but obviously he wasn’t satisfied.
A wave was coming in towards us.
‘This looks good, you want this one?’ he asked.
I inspected the wave, trying to be cool. ‘Um, yeah,’ I stuttered, unable to believe how nice he was. I lay down on the board and started paddling. I could feel my heart beating – relax, I said to myself. But I couldn’t. Roy was really good and he was really nice too. He was an amazing surfer, there was no way I could beat him. I was sure he could beat Kell too.
I searched for a point on the beach to concentrate on and found a white hat; it was a big white hat, a big round cowboy hat on a tall thin man.
Dad!
I would have recognised that hat anywhere.
Underneath me I felt the wave. I breathed out and jumped to my feet. It was a really good wave: clean and big. I surfed along it, running my hand through the wall of water and did a big turn at the bottom. I thought about trying a cutback, but if I fell off I wouldn’t get a good score. So I just surfed over the back of the wave and jumped off. When I looked up at the judges I saw my score of seven-point-six. It was enough to beat Roy at the moment, but he'd probably get another wave, do a cutback and get a better score.