South Africa
Part 15

I was doing my homework after school when I heard the phone ring, then mom answer it. The moment I picked up on the word 'surf' I shot outa my bedroom and into the living room. "Who is it, mom?"

She put her hand over the mouthpiece. "Kyle's father."

Why would he be calling? I thought. Was Kyle in trouble? Were we surfing too much together? Damn! Just when things were going great, adults had to meddle and spoil everything! Mom replaced the phone and smiled. "Kyle's father wants to know if you'd like to join him for a surf."

"Is Kyle coming, too? Woohoo! I'll be back in time for dinner, mom! Thanks, mom! See ya, mom!" I was half way out the door when I remembered something. "Sorry, mom. Forgot my board," I giggled.

I lept the fence and headed straight for Kyle's room. "Hey, Kyle! I just heard about your dad!"

"Hi, bro. It was really weird! My dad comes into my room while I'm studying -- in clothes for a change, 'cause it's cold today -- and he hugs me and asks how the studying's going. So I tell him and he says, "surfs up"."

"It's always up when I'm studying, dad. You know that."

"I'm going."

"Shit!"

"What's that?"

"I don't suppose..."

"Well, we haven't got all damn day, son. Do you wanna come along?"

"So," Kyle continued, "I phoned Steve and got my dad to talk to his mom, then your mom as well. Cool, huh?" he beamed.

"So what happened to your dad all of a sudden? I thought you were grounded."

"Yeah, well my dad loves me a lot, and he was a surfer when he was a teen, so I guess he understands that there's a time for books and a time for fun." A broad smile spread over his face. "Besides, mom's not home."

On the walk down to the beach, Steve and I were raving about how cool it was for Kyle to have a dad that loved to surf. I could tell that Kyle was pretty chuffed about that, and totally proud of his dad. I was proud of my dad, too, but he was the kinda guy who thought a wave was something you gave to somebody in the street, and a stick was something you tanned your son with if he got too cheeky.

Kyle's dad was right. The waves were two to three feet and perfect. Actually, I was pretty impressed with the old dude [he was like 40 or something]. He was pretty stylish on his board, but he didn't do airs or floaters or cool stuff like that -- he surfed old style, but he could handle the waves better than some of us, and I could tell that he was really enjoying it.

Out the back, I couldn't help talking the hind leg off, though, and I was hoping that he wasn't getting pissed at me. But you know it's natural for a kid to razz an older dude, and I was only teasing. I really liked Kyle's dad a lot. He rocked big time for an oldie. Later, I found out from Kyle that his dad liked his space when he surfed, to get the cobwebs out and to think about things. So I probably chatted too much while we sat on our sticks waiting for the sets. Oh, well...

Kyle also told me about the convo he had that night with his dad. "So what do you think about Wingnut surfing without wearing a wettie?"

"You used to do the same thing in the middle of winter when you were a little Kyle. It was like every damn day was summer to you when you were learning how to surf. I admire your young friend's spirit, though. He's a tough little customer. He reminds me so much of you."

"Yeah, he's cool, and it's great that he hangs with us. He's always cracking Steve and me up something wicked."

"Does he always talk so much?"

"Never stops. Wingnut's a real motor-mouth."

"By the way, I was impressed with the way Steve phoned to thank me for inviting him. He's a nice boy. And lemme tell you, I really enjoyed surfing with you guys today. I had a rave session, as you would say."

When I told my dad what a rad afternoon we'd had with Kyle's dad, he just said that there were water people and non-water people, and that he was one of the nons. When I thought about it afterwards, I figured it was just as well, 'cause otherwise the whole fucking beach would be packed!

The next afternoon, I was cleaning up the yard and doing some chores for my mom when Cody peeped over the wall. "How ya doin', Wingnut?"

"Hey! When are we going surfing again?"

"Well, it won't be during the week, 'cause I've gotta study for my exams. What about your other friends?"

"Nope, my mom says I've gotta chill and do some schoolwork and chores. She says I'm getting too carried away with the surfing thing. I mean, it's gotta be for two reasons: one, she was never a boy and two, she's never been on a board! I mean, like how are you supposed to make decisions about really important things if you've never been there? And then she goes on about it being winter and how I'm gonna catch my death in the water, and she doesn't want me getting sick and missing school. Women!"

"She may be right," Kyle smiled.

"Right shit!" I smacked the ground with the rake. "You've seen me! I can handle the cold water, no problem! I could probably go through the whole winter in just my boardies!"

"That's if they stay up long enough," he laughed. "But I've seen how you shiver when you come outa the water, dude. You could end up with hypothermia."

"Whatever." What the hell was hypothermia, anyway?

"Hey, your mom's just looking out for you, bro. Anyway, I'm sure she'll let you come with Steve and me on Saturday."

"Hey, can I sleep over on Friday night?"

"Hmmm, it's possible. Let's check closer to the time. OK?"

"Kiff! It's on, then!" I felt a whole lot better after that. Sleeping over at Kyle's was like the highlight of my week. "Oh, and you're gonna kill me for this, but I got a ding in my board."

"It happens to the best of us," he shrugged. "Bring it over this arvie and I'll fix it."

We talked some more about fixing dings and cool shit, then he kinda laughed for no reason. "What's so funny?"

"I dunno, Wingnut. It's just that you're so much like I was when I was elev... going on twelve. The black hair, the brown eyes, the nuggety build, the cheeky grin." He grabbed the peak of his cap and gave it a tug. "Except you're not as good looking."

"Fuck off! Oops!" I put my hand over my mouth in case mom was nearby. Luckily, she wasn't. "I'm just as good looking as you were, I bet!"

"Maybe," he grinned, "but I'll tell you what really makes me wanna puke. You're already getting a sixpack from all your rugger and surfing. I still can't get mine to look like yours, dammit."

"Yeah! It looks totally cool, huh?" I drew my stomach in and made the muscles stand out. "And that's why I like my boardies to hang down. I figure it makes the groupies wet their pussies, and all the other grommets jealous."

"You're crazy, Wingnut. Anyway, finish your chores and bring the board over later. I don't want your mom blaming me for making you lazy."

I couldn't wait to check out my sixpack in the mirror. Sure, I'd seen it before, but I wanted to see it again. Maybe I'd missed something that Kyle had noticed. I mean, if he said I had a cheeky grin, I'd wanna see it in the mirror straight away. Or if he said my legs were getting more muscly, I'd wanna check them out like now!

"Is that you, son?"

"Yeah, mom. Just gotta check something. I'll get back to the chores in a minute."

"Make sure you do!"

"K, mom."

Later that afternoon, I watched Kyle sand the surface of the board where the ding was, then mix some resin and stuff. "Do you have any black friends?" I asked.

"Not really. The white kids and the black kids at school tend to form clicks, so they don't mix much except when they're playing sport togther."

"Do you like any of them?"

"Yeah, there's this one dude -- well, I don't know him, but I've seen him around. He's so black, he's almost blue, but he's so damn awesome. He's a senior this year. He's got wicked pecs and a really narrow waist, and a flat, muscular stomach."

"Like mine?"

"Shuddup, brat. Anyway, the muscles on his legs are helluva well-defined, but that's 'cause he's a runner." Kyle paused a moment to spread some of the resin mixture on the ding. He was doing such a way cool job, and I was fascinated to watch him work. "So, this black dude -- I think he's Nigerian -- he's got this long, thick, cut dick which is also black all the damn way down except for his piss hole. He's got a tight, hard butt as well."

"You notice butts?"

"Stop interrupting."

"Just curious."

"His teeth would blind you at night, they're so damn white. But the best thing is that he's a super dude -- way damn funny and friendly. He's helluva good looking, too. Sorta like a black Steve only a bit older. I've seen him wrestle in senior gym, and he hasn't been beaten yet. The only prob is, if he ever gets a boner, he's gonna faint from blood loss."

"So why aren't you his friend?"

Kyle used a small spatula to spread the resin over the ding. "OK, now all we do is sand it back 'til it's nice and smooth."

"The black guy. Why aren't you his friend?" I repeated.

"Wingnut, you don't just rock up to some dude and say, "wanna be friends?""

"Well, I kinda did with you."

"But you're... well, you're a fucking grommet. Grommet's can do that kinda thing and get away with it. I'm a teen. It would look sus."

"Why?"

"'Cause it might look like... I was hitting on him or whatever."

"But it'd be way cool to watch him jack off... or maybe even jack him off."

Kyle went kinda quiet then, and busied himself with sanding the ding. Did I say the wrong thing? Damn! "Well, maybe he likes you, too. Maybe he'd think it was cool to meet you but just doesn't know what to say. Y'know? Like he might be shy or something."

It was the following afternoon after rugger practice that I saw Kyle again. Steve had been around for a little while and left the latest surfing magazine but, before I could check it out, Kyle was cracking big time.

"What did I do this time?"

"Jeez, Wingnut! You should see yourself!" he gasped. "You look like you've been dragged through a mud swamp! One sock down, the other half way up." He was laughing so much he had to slap his knee. "And your jersey hanging over your white -- well, they were white -- shorts. You've even got mud running down your chest!" He giggled some more. "And your hair's draped all over you're head! You've brought half the fucking football field home! Don't you shower at school?"

"Didn't have time. I wanted to get home and watch the cricket on TV." That was a lie. I wanted Kyle to see me looking like I'd just walked off the field.

"The cricket's boring, mainly 'cause we're not winning. Steve said the surf's up, but I've got study to do."

"Me, too. Hey, everything OK for Friday night? Can I sleep over?"

"I'll let you know."

"Cool. I'll see ya, then."

"Yeah, buddy... oh, and Wingnut?"

"Yeah?"

"You look pretty tough in your rugger togs."

Damn, I was so fucking glad to hear him say that! Yes! I looked totally cool! I ran straight to my room to check myself in the mirror before mom got a chance to complain about the mud. 

Copyright 1999 All rights reserved. mrbstories


 

 Wingnut Part 16