Final Hour (Novella) (9 page)

Dr. Harry was a live-in physician for twenty-four hours, and thereafter came to visit once a day.

Some Decembers, the weather sprites overpowered the weather gremlins, and Southern California received mid-year warmth at year's end, the gold-crowned sun ruling over this earthly paradise that, in spite of its imperfections, was perfect enough. If at least a mild El Niño effect brought warm water from South America all the way to this blessed coast, surfers could forgo the insulating neoprene wetsuits common to the season and hit the beach dressed as if the approaching holiday were July Fourth instead of Christmas.

Makani and Pogo paddled out to the lineup, straddled their boards, and made like a pair of buoys, a couple of dismo ducks, forgoing their turns while trying to stay out of the way of others more eager to thrash the waves or be thrashed by them. They didn't talk much because much had already been said.

Obeying doctor's orders for two and a half months, he refrained from surfing, which brought him as close to despondency as he was likely to get. She hadn't worried about him. She knew what he was made of, that he bounced back like Silly Putty. Two weeks earlier, he had returned to the sea, though not immediately to rip and slash it as he'd once done. He tested his shoulder, his balance, his skills, slowly working his way back by taking easy rides, then inside zippers, then somewhat more challenging waves.

Today, the surf had been solid normal when they paddled out, five-footers with just enough power to keep the veterans in the fight. But as they soaked in the lineup, sneaker sets began to insert from time to time, and then grew and became more frequent, until it seemed as if the sea must be aware that this was The Day for Pogo, the day when he hoped to prove that he was home and was once more totally who he had been.

As he drew his legs out of the water and knelt on his board, he said, “O'Brien, do you believe in evil?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“The important kind.”

“How could I not believe?”

“You can't just walk away from it.”

She thought of Ursula and Undine. “Maybe sometimes walking away is best.”

“Maybe never. You know, even firemen don't always have someone to save.”

“They like it better when they do.”

“But if no one's in the building, they still have to put out the fire.”

Big Mama rolled one of her best under them, and the next in the set seemed to be swelling even bigger as it darkened behind them.

“Stop jawing me about firemen,” Makani said. “You're at the head of the lineup, dude. Go to your wipeout like a man.”

He was grinning as he rose and caught the wave and found the lip and took the drop, for the moment disappearing from view.

The sea was deep, and the sky was deeper than the sea, and the day was The Day, fully bitchin', sweet, radical, as totally
live
as any day had ever been.

My novel
Ashley Bell
will be published on December 8, 2015, and everyone in my publishing life thinks it is the best book I've ever written, which is not always their opinion, because they are an honest bunch and don't lie to me just to please me, though I really, really wish they would. The two associated novellas—“Last Light” and “Final Hour”—are set in Newport Beach, as is
Ashley Bell,
but Makani and her dog, Bob, are not in the novel. Pogo has a key supporting role in
Ashley Bell,
though the story he and the main characters inhabit is far more epic than in these novellas and is filled with so many twists and turns, I needed 560 pages to get it right. I'm intrigued by Makani and Pogo's relationship, however, and will write at least another novella about them. And about Bob, of course. Meanwhile, may you have in your life much
‘ano ‘i
and
‘aka ‘aka, a hui hou aku
—“much love and laughter, until we meet again.” And don't be a goob.

The City • Innocence • 77 Shadow Street • What the Night Knows • Breathless • Relentless • Your Heart Belongs to Me • The Darkest Evening of the Year • The Good Guy • The Husband • Velocity • Life Expectancy • The Taking • The Face • By the Light of the Moon • One Door Away From Heaven • From the Corner of His Eye • False Memory • Seize the Night • Fear Nothing • Mr. Murder • Dragon Tears • Hideaway • Cold Fire • The Bad Place • Midnight • Lightning • Watchers • Strangers • Twilight Eyes • Darkfall • Phantoms • Whispers • The Mask • The Vision • The Face of Fear • Night Chills • Shattered • The Voice of the Night • The Servants of Twilight • The House of Thunder • The Key to Midnight • The Eyes of Darkness • Shadowfires • Winter Moon • The Door to December • Dark Rivers of the Heart • Icebound • Strange Highways • Intensity • Sole Survivor • Ticktock • The Funhouse • Demon Seed

Odd Thomas • Forever Odd • Brother Odd • Odd Hours • Odd Interlude • Odd Apocalypse • Deeply Odd • Saint Odd

Prodigal Son • City of Night • Dead and Alive • Lost Souls • The Dead Town

A Big Little Life: A Memoir of a Joyful Dog Named Trixie

D
EAN
K
OONTZ
, the author of many #1
New York Times
bestsellers, lives in Southern California with his wife, Gerda, their golden retriever, Anna, and the enduring spirit of their golden, Trixie.

www.deankoontz.com

Facebook.com/​DeanKoontzOfficial

@deankoontz

Correspondence for the author should be addressed to:

Dean Koontz

P.O. Box 9529

Newport Beach, California 92658