Grease Monkey Jive (18 page)

“Alexandra, we’ve talked about this. Put a time limit on it. Dan can work longer with Scott. You don’t need to work so hard.”

“I do. We have to do it together or we have no chance of pulling it off.”

“Seriously, this is silly. I want to see you.”

Alex sighed. It wasn’t just how long their session would take, it was how exhausting they were: anxious, frustrating, and wearing. Afterwards, all she wanted was a shower, something to eat, and to crash into bed, so she could forget about how difficult it all was and not be overwhelmed by how much heart Dan was putting into it. He took every snide remark Scott dished up, he let Trevor manhandle him, prod him, push him, and shove him around the floor, and he met it with one part bull-headed determination, one part humour, and a generous sprinkling of natural ability. She didn’t feel like tromping over to Phil’s place and playing nice girlfriend after that.

“It’ll be late. I’ll try. I’m not promising, but I’ll try.”

“Good. Frankly, there’s something dodgy about a grease monkey who wants to learn ballroom dancing anyway. I’ll be glad when Scott gets the all clear.”

Alex spun about and gaped at Scott. “Give us a minute, will you?”

“Good Lord, caveman, if you can’t get this right, I’m going to have to change the routine,” Scott barked and turned back to the stereo.

Alex made a growling sound like a cranky kitten and to Dan’s astonishment gave Scott the finger. He gasped and as Scott turned back to them, grabbed her lifted hand, and folded it inside his palm, to hide the gesture. Their eyes met and she grinned up at him and shook her hand free.

“Something’s not right for you. You’re so close to getting it.” She studied him. She could see he was tired and agitated. His shoulders were slumped forward and his whole body slouched with the burden of all he had to learn.

“I’m getting the weight change all wrong. I can’t seem to get it in my head. Maybe Scott’s right; I need something simpler.”

Alex considered Dan, sweeping her eyes over his form, his sweat stained t-shirt hanging loosely from his broad shoulders. Today he had on a pair of surf shorts that cropped just above his knees. They gave her an idea.

“Show me how you stand when you ride a wave.”

“Why?”

“Just do it,” she said in teacher mode, so he lay down on the floor, a pretend surfboard under his hands.

Scott called, “What are you doing?”

“Shut up, Scott – give us a minute. Go on, Dan.”

Dan pressed his hands into the floor level with his shoulders as though he was about to do a push-up and then sprang to his feet, his left leg back, his right leg forward, arms braced wide for balance, surfing an imaginary wave.

“Your left leg is dominant,” said Alex.

Dan looked down at his feet and then straightened up. “Yeah, I’m goofy footed.”

“That’s it, then. We need to re-orient around your dominant side.”

“What?”

“You clever girl!” called Scott. “Dan, Try the step shifting left rather than right.”

Dan did and suddenly he could complete the move with ease. He looked shocked and Alex nodded in approval.

“Wow, that’s much easier,” he said.

“I should’ve thought of that before,” said Scott.

But Dan’s victory over his goofy foot was short-lived. Soon it became obvious both Scott and Alex were having trouble suppressing their frustration at his slow progress.

Dan never had to worry what Scott was thinking. Scott brewed his irritation in the back of his throat and flung it at Dan from the tip of his tongue with a true splattering aim. It was harder to get a read on Alex, but as the session wore on her smile got more frozen, her voice more frosty, and her manner more excessively patient. Dan wished she’d yell at him. It would be a more human response. Robot, cold, professional Alex was so far away from the ethereal girl he’d glimpsed, he was beginning to doubt he’d seen her at all.

It was after 10pm and the feeling he’d bitten off more than even Jeff could chew on a good day was back. He needed to bury this bone for a while, so he could come back to it with renewed interest.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, before Scott could start their music up again, making Alex blink at him in surprise.

“I’m sorry. I need a break.”

“Of course,” said Scott. “Why don’t we have some tea?”

“I don’t mean that sort of a break. I need some time out.” He noticed the sharp look that passed between Scott and Alex. “I need to get some space, so I can think straight.”

“Dan, we don’t have time for a break,” said Alex.

“My blisters have blisters, I’ve lost a nail, and I’ve got a shoe full of blood. I’m sore and I’m so tense about getting it wrong all I’m going to do is get it wrong. I need a break.”

Alex sighed and looked at Scott again. She said, “Ok, so you have tomorrow off and come back Sunday morning.”

“Not just me. Both of us need a break.”

She shook her head, “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re as frustrated as hell with me and you’re scared I won’t get it together in time.”

“I’m not.”

“Alex,” Dan said. “There’d be something wrong if you weren’t.”

“Alley cat, he’s right,” said Scott.

“What are you suggesting?” she said.

“That we both need a break and I’m not just talking about taking time out of lessons. A complete mental and physical break.”

“What do you mean?”

Dan thought a moment. He needed to get his balance back. Spending too much time in Alex’s world was mucking with his head. “Ever been surfing?”

Alex exhaled with frustration. “No, and I’m not about to start now.”

“Fair enough, but time out for me means my board and a sunrise over the sea, a slow breakfast with the boys, a lazy afternoon, and a night out.”

“And that works for you?” Alex said.

“That’s my world.”

“Ah-hah.”

Dan heard the sarcasm. “Hey, nothing wrong with it. Don’t knock it till you try it. In fact, that’s exactly what we should do. I’ve been spending all this time in your world – you come and spend a day in mine. Fair trade.”

“Ah, I don’t think so, Dan. I don’t think I’m made for sitting on the beach and watching you surf.” Alex did a Scott and rolled her eyes.

“You don’t have to do that. You can swim, just enjoy the weather. It’s beautiful out there. You spend all this time indoors; you could do with some fresh air.”

“I don’t think so.”

Dan pulled a face. “Alex, do you have any idea how foreign all this is to me?”

Scott said, “He’s right, Alley cat. You both need a day off. I could do with one too. We’ve all been going at this hard. One rest day won’t hurt and you could both do with cutting lose and doing something different.”

Alex sighed. “Ok, one day.”

“I mean it, girlfriend,” said Scott. “Your instructions are to have tomorrow off with Dan. He gets to say what you do and you’re to have fun. I’m mandating it.”

“You’re kidding me?” Alex glared at Scott who shook his head. She turned to Dan, “I’m not hanging out with you while you do your laundry.”

He laughed. “No, like I said, it’s Saturday so we do Saturday things. An early surf, a slow breakfast with the boys, then we’ll take Jeff out, he’d like that.”

Alex’s face dropped. “You have a kid?”

“Four legs. Waggy tail.”

She relaxed. Ok, he wasn’t a single dad. This might be alright. She could probably make some excuse to skip off after breakfast, avoiding the need to bond with the furkid and make small talk all day. Avoiding the fact that the idea of spending a day with Dan was just a little bit exciting, a little bit dangerous, was much harder to do. It was like Scott had specifically instructed her to eat a whole chocolate cake and enjoy every bite, and she wasn’t even allowed to feel guilty.

“I usually work part of Saturday, but I’ll skip it tomorrow in honour of you. Then how about I cook you dinner and we see a movie?”

Alex couldn’t hide her surprise. “You cook?”

“No, I mostly eat raw meat I’ve hunted and clubbed to death.”

Scott snorted and Alex dropped her head. “Sorry.”

So Alex swapped her dance gear for beach gear and found herself sitting on a towel on Bondi Beach at 7am the next morning, about to watch Dan, Mitch, Fluke, and Ant surfing. She wore a long-sleeved cotton voile shirt over her black one-piece swimmers, a huge black hat, and sunglasses that took the edge off the sharpness of the sun.

The early start was enough to get her heart racing, but Dan in a wetsuit was another story altogether. It left almost nothing to her imagination. He’d arrived at their meeting place with half the wetsuit on, his thighs encased in fitted black neoprene, the rest of it dangling from his hips, leaving his stomach, chest, and arms bare. Every muscle and ripple of his body was available for viewing and Alex was glad for the reflective lenses of her sunnies – she could look at him without him knowing exactly where her eyes were wandering. She let them wander. He was a fine, fine specimen and what he couldn’t do on the dance floor would be camouflaged by the gorgeous nature of his body.

“Good morning.” He grinned, handing her a take-away cappuccino, a selection of types of sugar, a Paddlepop stick stirrer, and a newspaper.

“You’ve done this before.” He looked at her quizzically. “Brought your adoring public sustenance,” she said, toasting him with the coffee cup.

Dan laughed. “Ah, not exactly. I’m not really a morning relationship kind of guy.” He ran a hand through his hair and Alex thought he was embarrassed. She would’ve asked him what that meant, but Mitch and their other friend Ant arrived, both of them wearing the same half wetsuit look so Alex was treated to a veritable feast of male muscle – this early in the morning it was hard to take. She wondered where Fluke was to even things out.

“You’re the dance teacher,” said Ant, by way of introduction. He was a bigger guy than either Dan or Mitch, slightly softer round the middle, with close-cut black hair. He was wearing dark glasses which Alex assumed he was using to thoroughly check her out.

“You’re the other musketeer.”

He laughed. “Ant, Anthony Gambese.”

“You didn’t want to learn to dance?”

“Not till I met you and only if you give private lessons.”

“Surf’s up,” said Dan. He sounded like Scott, dry and impatient, as he wriggled into the top half of his wetsuit.

“You’ll have to give me your fee schedule later,” said Ant, making it sound like something far less innocent.

Alex opened her mouth to tell Ant what he could do with his notion of a fee schedule, but Dan got in first. He flat-palmed Ant in the back of the head saying, “Don’t mind him. Caveman. No manners,” this time positively aping Scott.

Then the three of them were off, jogging through the soft sand to the ocean, leaving Alex with a mound of towels for company. She figured she’d settle in with the paper, but she found herself watching the boys join the larger pack of surfers. Once they did they were almost unrecognisable, three dark haired guys in wetsuits, but Dan’s board was bright blue and Mitch’s was apple green so once they were up on a wave she could pick them out.

She watched them float about, sitting astride their boards, try a few small waves, and then settle to wait. She knew they were watching the sets of waves as they rolled in from deeper ocean, watching for just the right one to give them the perfect ride.

When Dan chose, suddenly folding forward on his board and paddling furiously towards a forming wave, Alex stood to get a better look. Dan’s wave was a huge, arching monster, forming over half the length of the beach and attacking the shore at an inexorable pace. Just the relentless fury of it made her pull her feet from the soft sand and back up a few paces, but Dan was attacking it without fear. From its top lip he raced it, half a length ahead of its angry foamy curve. He danced his board this way and that, cutting across the surface of the water like he had wings, like he was made of wave himself. He whipped up and down the monster’s jaw, avoiding its white teeth and laughing down its throat.

Alex’s heart was in her mouth as she watched him dance on water. He was surefooted, sleek, the image of strength, balance, and bravery, and he was right, surfing was like dancing. He held his body in position, he kept his head up, he worked the rhythm of the ocean. Every time it looked like the demon wave would swallow him whole, he skipped away leaving Alex full of wonder at his dexterity and control.

And then, all of a sudden, he was gone, dropping into the sea, plunging under the crashed lip of churning spume and sand and shocking a gasp out of Alex with his sudden disappearance.

“He’s great out there, isn’t he?” said Fluke, now beside her.

“He’s amazing. I’ve watched surfers before, but I guess I never really appreciated the skill in it.”

“Yeah, he’s half fish. A complete natural, he can read the wave like no one else I know. Mitch can too, but Ant and I have to work at it, it’s not so easy for us,” said Fluke, pointing to Ant now up on a wave of his own. “Oh! See that – Ant just got wiped out. Aw that woulda hurt.”

“Can I ask you something, Fluke?”

“Sure.” Fluke dropped his board in the sand. “If I didn’t think they’d give it to me for wimping out, I’d rather stand here with you anyway. It’s gnarly out there today.”

“Why do they call you Fluke?”

“That’s your question? I thought it was going to be all deep and meaningful.”

“Not on one coffee. I need to warm up to D&M.”

Fluke grinned. “My mum named me Fluke when she was pregnant with me. She was told she couldn’t have kids so I was what you’d call a surprise. I was also the reason for a wedding. I’ve got three younger brothers and a sister so I wasn’t such a fluke after all, but the name stuck.”

“Why the dancing, Fluke?”

“Ah, there it is. That’s the one I was waiting for.”

Alex grinned, an old fashioned Hollywood starlet in her hat and sunglasses, the light breeze blowing her shirt back against her body so Fluke could see the outline of her swimwear and the muscles in her thighs.

“If I tell you, you can’t tell Dan you know. He wouldn’t want you to know.”

“Ok,” she said cautiously.