The Green Room Read Online Free PDF Page B

direction. She flew over the top and down the other side with a swoop that made her stomach soar. God, this was fun. And God, it was scary.
    Nahoa and Robbie were both sitting on the big tandem board now, and she could see Nahoa rotating it to face shore. They were going for the next wave. Nahoa kept the board perpendicular to the line of the rising line of water, out on the shoulder. He shouted something to Robbie, then gave two or three strong strokes and got to his feet as easily as if he’d been lying on the living room floor. Robbie got to his knees and stayed there, his arms out like a tightrope walker. The two of them soared by. Robbie’s eyes were as round as quarters and his mouth stretched, with delight edging out the fear. When they plummeted with the rush of cascading water behind them, Storm heard Robbie’s squeal of exhilaration. She dropped down the ocean side of the wave, out of sight, but she heard them both laugh out loud.
    Ben paddled up to within about ten feet of her. “Next one’s ours. You’re in the right position, on the outside. It’s going to break right, so anticipate that and go with it. I’ll be nearby, just relax and have fun.” He looked over his shoulder, then back at her.
    â€œStart paddling.”
    Storm’s stomach felt like it had risen to her throat. She dug into the water, hands stiff, shoulders and triceps flexing with effort. She felt like she wasn’t moving. Instead, the ocean seemed to suck her back into a rising wall of water. The roar drowned out all other sound, any concept of anyone near her; it eradicated any thought in her mind but how to keep from tumbling down the face of the wave.
    If she fell now, she’d go over the falls. And then she’d be in the washing machine, with no idea which way was up. If that happened, all she could do would be to hold her breath and hope that the greater density of salt water would push her to the surface before her air ran out.
    She wanted to turn back, but it was too late. Instead, she plunged down the face of the wave, still lying down, afraid to rise, terrified she’d fall and be engulfed in that liquid green wall. Somewhere off to her left, she heard Ben shout. “Stand up!”
    And she did. She scrambled up, knowing as she did that she had to, or she’d bury the nose of the board and be launched like a cannonball, held to the razor-finned slab of fiberglass by the rubber leash around her ankle, only to land in the exact spot where the leading edge of the curl would crash to the ocean. She’d have as much free will as a piece of driftwood.
    On her feet, she found that her petrified brain started to function once again. She was up. In this position, she had control. She could shift her weight back on the board to avoid pearling, or she could move forward and adjust for a lull in the water’s force. And once in control, she was no longer as frightened.
    The ride was perfect. She sailed past Nahoa and Robbie, who shouted and gave her a thumbs-up. Twenty yards beyond them, the wave petered out, and Storm let herself fall, laughing, into the ocean.
    â€œWay to go.” Ben had appeared nearby, and calmly sat on his board as if he’d driven up and parked.
    â€œThat was great.” Storm was breathless with exertion and a roaring adrenaline buzz.
    â€œWanna do it again?”
    â€œYeah.”
    ***
    A couple of hours later, the surfers traipsed back to where Leila and Hamlin had set down beach chairs. They’d had a hard time staying in them, though, and met the wet and sandy group halfway down the beach.
    â€œThat looks really fun,” Hamlin said.
    â€œYou could do it,” Storm assured him. “Let’s start on smaller waves, though.”
    â€œThey look pretty big,” Leila said. “Lots of white water.”
    Robbie was carrying the tandem board with Ben. “It was so fun, Mom. I want to do it again.”
    Leila had laid an old