Stone and Blood

Chapter 2

Despite the fatigue through his body, Cal changed from his work clothes, pulling on a pair of old green boardshorts and grab the surfboard from its spot, propped in the corner of the lounge room.  brushing his hair out of his eyes, he grabbed a bar of Mrs Palmer's surfboard wax, and began vigorously rubbing down the surface of his board . Why no means would he have ever considered himself to be a good surfer, but he love the feeling of being out in the water, on the waves, feeling the raw power of mother nature beneath his feet, and the pure serenity that this activity always offered him.
Barefoot, he grabbed the board, and after pulling the door closed behind him, set off at a relaxed pace for the five minute walk down to the beach.
The surf was clean but small. Only a handful of dedicated surfers were out on the ocean, sitting astride their respective boards looking out the back waiting for the set they hoped might come up, giving them at least one decent ride. Cal didn't care that it was small. He just needed to be out there. His feet tingled from the chill of the water as he ran in. Pushing the board out in front of him, he dove onto its sticky surface and paddled over the swells until he was 100 metres off from the shore arms pumping despite the days workload. But this was fun. This was how he relaxed. This and a beer or two, but surfing came first.
His gaze swept the beach. Looking from the high rise holiday apartments of surfers Paradise to the north, all the way down the headland of Nobby's point and Burleigh Hill beyond that in the south. Shadows had started to stretch themselves across patches of beach as the building blockedHe had lived here most of his life. He had been born in Sydney but then his parents had loved to Queensland and the suburbs of the Gold Coast when he was too young to remember the change. He loved it here. He'd travelled to places, Bali, Hawaii and throughout Thailand but this was home.
As his eyes travelled back across the golden sands he caught sight of a woman. He couldn't make out details beyond that she was tall and athletic, by the way she moved. Her skin was a rich caramel and her hair was dark brown. She walked gracefully in the breaking surf. The water rushing over her feet and reaching up to her knees.  Cal was transfixed. She was too far away but he knew she was gorgeous. She paused as if someone had called her name and looked out across the water.... directly at him. Even at this distance he knew that their eyes had met and suddenly his vision blurred. Pain lanced through his skill and he grabbed his head in both hands grimacing. "What the hell.???"
It took a moment for the pain to subside and he swayed dizzily, grasping onto the board beneath him with knees and hands, gasping for breath.  When his eyesight returned, the girl was no where to be seen.
He sat there, cool waters lapping over his legs, a gentle breeze stirring the surface, allowing the swell to lift him and then gently lower him back down  again.
Minutes stretched in as he composed himself and brought his breathing under control.
"What the hell was that? " he mumbled to himself. But it had passed. The dim memory of the pain was the only evidence of its ever having been in his head.
He returned to the beach, washed the salt and sand from his body and surfboard under one of the council provided showers and wandered back home under a setting sun.

The Surfers Paradise night life was never something that interested Cal. He hated the crowds that hung in and around the numerous bars and nightclubs that lined the famous Orchid Avenue. He went for Pete. "For a guy that looked like he'd blow away in a stiff breeze" Cal thought for the hundredth time..."damn that boy had game"
Cal had no idea what Pete said or did but he always had a partner to spend the hours with. Dressed in plain blue denim jeans and an oversized black tee shirt,  women would always brush Pete off when he first approached. Usually eyeing him up and down with with varying looks of disgust and disinterest. Hushed chatter amongst girlfriends usually resulted in more sideways glances. Within a few short minutes their body language could be seen changing. They stopped turning their backs to him and ever so slightly turned his way. A few more minutes would reward pete with the first smile. Then a laugh. Then came the body contact. A tap on his shoulder or hand lightly placed on his forearm. By then they were fully engaged. Crossed arms lay delicately on laps or fingers brushing strands of hair from their eyes. Bodies turned to face him openly. Sometimes it was one girl. Other times a group. He never left the bar with anyone but he and they sure had a good time while they were there.  Cal eyed his friend over his beer. He always sat a little apart from Pete. He never wanted to cramp the guys style and Pete never left him alone for too long. He smiled as he saw tonight's group laughing hard over something Pete had said. Cal smiled and took a slow pull on his beer.  This bar was pretty much like any other bar on this strip and even at 11pm it was packed. This would carry on till 3 am when most of the bars and clubs would enforce the mandatory lockout.  He didn't look out of place in his tan chinos and light blue dress shirt. Everyone seemed dressed to impress.  He seemed to fit right in with the standard attire for most men, whereas the ladies outfits ranged from jeans, tank tops and thongs to near fashion show standard, shirt skirts high heels and glamoured to the max.

The music was loud and with so much bass that the floor seemed to vibrate. Bright lights and shadowed corners and the smell of bodies and alcohol hung heavy in the humid air.   No matter how high they had the air conditioning going it always felt hot to him. The sweat had already started to drip down Cal back.  The mass of humanity, cramming themselves into a single room in an attempt to find some fun. Most times fun was not found. Hangovers though, they were found in abundance and still next Friday night, the same group would be prowling the streets yet again. Cal glanced at the full length mirror behind the bar at which he stood and drank. From his vantage point he could see out the windows near the entrance and across the street to the throngs of people walking or just plain milling about.  He choked. Beer spurted from his mouth as he coughed. The bartender looked across at him. Nothing he hadn't seen a thousand times before and went back to the blocky middle aged man who was yelling out his order across the bar.
Cal whirled away from the bar.

It was her.