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and we take these rights. They re much more hollow and
sucky, but it s better than having to bother with people.
We ve been talking, both of us in the water, holding our
boards crossways in front of our chests, when Danny spots
a big one that looks like it s going to break wide. He goes
for it, but a guy s coming across  and he s charging like a
train, I can track his progress from the back of the wave by
the spray shooting up. He makes it around the section and
shouts Danny off with an angry  Beat it! , when a whistle or a
quiet  Yep would have done it.
 What a tosser, I say when Danny paddles back to our
spot. I ve seen the guy out before. He s middle-aged and
barrel-chested, talks to his mates in a really loud voice
when they re around because he wants everybody to know
that he has mates. When his mates aren t around he
bristles with aggro because this is his break and we re all
out trespassing. He s prone to glaring at people in the
water for no apparent reason, shooting dirty looks around
like arrows. I ve seen him have a go at other guys  the
ones who aren t his mates, don t know his mates and don t
have mates of their own. He paddles right next to them,
getting right in their space, dishing it out in a big loud voice
and splashing water into their face with an angry flick of his
hand.
There are a few different tribes at the break, but he s not
from any of the weekday ones. He descends on the
weekends at different times. If I had to put money on it, I d
say he doesn t live around here any more. He might have
once, back in his glory days, but now I reckon he just drives
back to beat his chest and mark out his territory.
He s sort of ridiculous, but the truth is, guys like him make
me nervous.
Danny sits up and narrows his eyes.  Yeah, I made it
around the section, boy. And do you know why, boy? It ain t
 cause I ride a big thick board because I m too lazy to
paddle a proper shortboard any more. It s  cause I ve been
surfing here for forty years, and that s forty years before you
even got off the boat, you chink-eyed little shit.
He says all this in an imitation Australian drawl: eyes
narrowed, hardly moving his lips, voice loud and hoarse.
I frown.  Did he say that to you?
Danny s face relaxes, not seeming overly worried.  Yeah,
one time. I dropped in on him. I didn t mean to, like, I said
sorry and stuff. He frowns.  I think it was thirty years, but.
 Oh yeah, they ve all been here for thirty years. Or forty
years. Never an odd number. They re all on some freakin
anniversary or another. But my voice is tight as I say the
words because the guy is paddling back out and he seems
to be heading our way. In that moment, seeing him set a
collision course for the two of us, something happens. I give
up. I won t come back again, I tell myself. There s no point.
They always win in the end.
Danny doesn t seem to notice. He s lying down on his
board, ankles crossed, elbows propped on the deck. His
hands are talking to each other and it reminds me of the
first time I saw him.
The guy paddles past us so closely that my board rocks
from his wake and he snarls,  The trouble with this break
these days is that it s full of friggin women and children.
My face is frozen. There s the taste of metal in my mouth:
fear. But Danny blinks as though his line of thought has
been interrupted and he looks over at the guy, shrugs, and
says,  So what? It s our break, too.
 Your break, too, the guy mutters, hissing the words like
a threat, shaking his head over them. But he keeps going.
Like nothing has happened at all, Danny slides off his
board into the water.  Hey, you know that movie, Trilogy? I
got it the other day. You can borrow it if you want. It s okay.
But one thing I didn t get & 
He keeps talking, but I m not listening. I want to ask him
how he did that. I want to know how he can be so open. I
want to know why he isn t scared. And most of all, I want to
know how come he doesn t let them get to him. He s just
done one of the best and bravest things I ve ever seen. I
want to tell him that with those couple of words  So what?
It s our break, too  he s changed my whole way of looking
at the world. I don t know what just happened, but I think
he s written me a permission slip.
 & like, most of the whole movie is just them telling you
about how great the movie is going to be. But then you re,
like, so where s the great bit? That s it? And when they re
playing poker and stuff, you can tell it s just a set up  
 Have you got a colour, Danny? I interrupt. I can t believe
I haven t asked him this before.
He frowns at the interruption, but when he registers the
question his eyes spark as he realises we re on to possibly
his favourite subject, his  gift . Then he scowls.
 No. I ve checked. In the mirror and in photographs. It
sucks. Everybody else gets one, but me.
I m silent for a bit, then I say,  I think you ve got a colour.
Well, he doesn t like that. He gives me a hoity-toity look
and says,  You don t have synaesthesia. Only I get colours
from people.
 Okay then.
After about thirty seconds he says,  Okay, what is it?
 What s what?
 What s my colour?
 Wouldn t you like to know.
He splashes me.  Tell me.
I smile, then smooth my face out.  Your colour is shiny.
 Shiny? That s not a colour.
 Yes, it is.
 No, it s not. What colour s shiny?
 The colour the sun makes when it hits the water.
 Oh.
He likes that. I can tell.
36
the glitter skin,
Saturday night. Work is a major slamfest. There are
customers queued up out the door from five onwards. I
have six or seven food orders lined up on the strip [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]