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Chapter Eleven
Peyton
I learned to surf long before anything else. I wasn’t quite a teenager at the time, and Phillip, my oldest brother, was seventeen. Preston was two years older than me, and two years younger than Phillip. With me being the youngest child – and the only girl – my father was slightly overprotective of me.
He took another gulp of his coffee and glanced at his watch. “You’re too young.”
“I’m almost thirteen.”
“Like I said, you’re too young.”
“Phil started when he was ten.”
“Phil’s a boy. You’re a girl. There’s a difference.”
“Is not.”
“There is. And, I don’t have time to argue. I’m almost late.”
“I’m going,” I said. “They’re going to teach me.”
It was summer, and we were out of school. With my father working, we had the entire ten-week period to ourselves. Our adventures were only limited by our imaginations and our courage, which were two things I seemed to have an overabundance of.
“They’re most certainly not,” he said. “Now I’ve got to go.”
He leaned over and gave me a kiss. It was something he did every day before he left for work, but the level of affection didn’t extend to my brothers. I didn’t really think about it at the time, but as I got older, I came to believe he kissed me each day because I reminded him of mom.
And he missed her. Dearly.
She died when I was eight, the result of a multi-car pileup on the freeway. There were many cars that wrecked that day, but she was the only fatality. My father told me that she was far too beautiful of a woman to remain on earth, and that God recognized it and took her to heaven to be with the other angels.
I believed him.
It was difficult not to. My mother was a beautiful woman, and she was definitely an angel. Her skin resembled porcelain. Her hair was like silk, and her smile was infectious. She had a soft voice, her patience was never ending, and she always took the time to do whatever she must to keep us entertained.
“Maybe just a few lessons?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I promise,” I said, extending my pinkie. “I won’t.”
“You can’t make that promise,” he said.
I extended my arm and offered him my pinkie. “I just did.”
“A few lessons, that’s it.” He sighed and reached for my hand. As our pinkies interlocked, he grinned. “Don’t get hurt.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I spent that entire summer surfing, and before school started, I was just as good as Phillip and Preston, which made neither of them very happy. Although most families took vacations in the summer, we took a different approach, vacationing during winter break.
While Phillip and Preston chose to downhill ski, I, being the more adventurous, learned to snowboard. By the time I was sixteen, I was an avid snowboarder. At eighteen, I was driving to Utah and climbing up the face of mountains where no one else had ventured.
People often asked if I had a death wish, or if I placed no value whatsoever on life. I always responded no, but never took time to explain.
In reality, my adventures took me to a place far away, somewhere between the heavens above and the earth below. With everything I did, be it surfing, snowboarding, or rock climbing, my feet were never planted firmly on the earth, and the euphoria I felt was heavenly.
Sometimes, so heaven-like, that I felt I could reach out and touch her hand.
To this day, I miss her dearly.
