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night,” she said.
    â€œSomething came up.”
    Jade crossed her arms over her chest and glanced down the sidewalk and then back at Kai. “Want to do something?”
    That caught Kai by surprise. “Last time I saw you, it looked like you were doing something with someone else.”
    Jade wrinkled her nose and made a face. “I had to send him on his way. He was way too possessive.”
    â€œI’ve got to take care of some things right now,” Kai said. “Maybe another time, okay?”
    â€œThat would be nice,” Jade said.
    When Kai got to the Driftwood, the orange vacancy sign was flickering on and off. Kai went through the screen door to the office and rang the bell. He waited, but nobody came through the door behind the desk that connected the motel office to Curtis’s apartment. Finally Kai went around the counter and knocked.
    Still no answer, but Kai could hear music coming from inside. Not just any music either, guitar-crazed surf movie music. Kai knocked again. “Curtis, you in there?”
    â€œThat you, grom?” Curtis called from inside.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWell, don’t just stand there banging, come on in.”
    Kai pushed open the door. The living room was dark except for the gray light from the TV barely illuminating Curtis, who reclined on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table and a bottle of Jack Daniel’s clenched in his fist.
    â€œWhat’s cookin’ good lookin’?” Curtis asked in his gravelly voice, his eyes never leaving the screen.
    â€œI rang the bell,” Kai said. “What if it’d been someone looking for a room?”
    â€œThey’d be out of luck.”
    â€œBut the vacancy sign’s on,” Kai said.
    Curtis took a gulp of JD. “What are you all of a sudden, my mother? I don’t want to answer the damn bell, I won’t answer the damn bell.”
    â€œThen shouldn’t you turn off the vacancy sign?” Kai asked.
    â€œWhy would I do that?” Curtis grumbled. “I got empty rooms to rent.”
    Kai stared at him for a second. “You’re not making sense.”
    â€œYou want to see what don’t make sense?” Curtis asked. “Come over here.”
    Kai stepped closer. Now he could see the TV screen. An old grainy color surf movie was playing. Clearly one made on a sixteen millimeter film camera and then transferred to videotape years later. A bunch of crew cut guys on big 1960s long boards were taking off on some major waves.
    â€œRecognize it?” Curtis asked.
    â€œWaimea Bay,” Kai said. “But I don’t know the movie.”
    â€œThat’s ’cause you never saw it,” Curtis said. “This is just some outtakes Bruce Brown put together for his friends.”
    Bruce Brown was probably the most famous surf-movie maker ever. A pioneer in the form.
    â€œThere!” Curtis suddenly pointed at the screen and hit the pause button on the remote. The grainy color picture froze on two surfers just starting down from the Up of a monstrous twenty-five-foot wave. One of them was wearing white-and-black-striped trunks and squatting on his board with his arms out-stretched. He was stocky and broad and reminded Kai of a sumo wrestler.
    â€œGreg Noll,” Kai said.
    â€œRight. And the other guy?”
    Kai kneeled closer and squinted at the screen, then looked back at the shadowy form of Curtis on the couch. “No way.”
    â€œOh, grommy, you better believe it.” Curtis pressed the play button and the movie started again. Noll, nicknamed Da Bull and one of the most famous surfers in history, had caught the huge wave on an angle and skittered down the face on a diagonal from the upper right to the lower left. Meanwhile Curtis charged straight down the face. As Noll moved farther to the left, the cameraman had to make a choice between following him or staying with Curtis. The cameraman followed Noll and Curtis