Savannah Burning

Chapter Sixteen

My phone vibrating under my pillow woke me up early the next morning.

“’Lo,” I mumbled into it.

“Get ready,” Robbie said, breathless on the other side, “we’re going surfing.”

I yawned and stretched in my bed, my warm, cozy bed. “But my bed,” I argued.

“Your bed will be there when you get back,” Daisy called from the background. “There’s a storm coming and the sets are amazing right now.”

“How long have you two been awake for?” I asked, pulling my sheets over my head. It was too damn early.

“Irrelevant, Tyson!” Daisy snapped. “These are some of the best sets all year!”

I groaned, sitting up in bed. “Okay. Give me twenty minutes.”

“Make it fifteen,” Robbie clipped, hanging up before I could argue.

I rolled out of bed, raking my fingers through my knotted hair. I pulled on my board shorts and grabbed my rashguard from my sort-of dirty laundry pile, yanking it back on.

I glanced out the window, checking out the darkened sky, when a certain blonde caught my eye in the window across from mine.

She was sitting on her windowsill, smoking a cigarette, the wind whipping her hair across her face. Before I could chicken out, I was running downstairs and out the backdoor.

“Savanna,” I yelled, startling her from her perch.

“Shhh,” she hissed, stubbing her cigarette out and flicking it away from her window. “I’m trying to be sneaky.”

“I can see that,” I said with a grin. “How do you feel about coming to the beach with me, Daisy and Robbie? We’re going surfing.” Savanna glanced over her shoulder towards her window, as if looking to see if her parents were listening in on our conversation.

“I have to ask,” she said, putting out her cigarette. “They weren’t too happy about the local news this morning.”

Later I’d find out that someone had taken a photo of Savanna last night at the Halloween party, seconds before she threw herself into the car. It was the cover of the local gazette. One the park’s employees took the photo and sold it for a couple of bucks. Half of Daisy was visible in the background and I could see my own outline. What would disturb me most of all when I finally got my hands on the photo was that all the way in the background, I could see a blurry image of a woman in a sock-hop costume under the exit sign.

“Let me go see if I can win them over,” Savanna was saying, already shimmying her way back in. “I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.” With that Savanna pulled her window closed and held up one finger to me before walking away.

I waited in the kitchen to escape the cold for Savanna to come back outside but Robbie ended up getting here first. I yanked on a hoodie and grabbed a rainjacket on my way out, yelling goodbye to my parents on my way out the door.

“We have to go to Savanna’s,” I said, slamming the van door shut. “She said she wanted to come.”

“How is she doing since last night?” Daisy asked.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I only got to talk to her for a second.”

We pulled into Savanna’s driveway and I jumped out, barefoot, and ran up to her front door. Savanna answered almost immediately, her eyes red rimmed and face paler than usual.

“I can’t come today,” she said quietly.

“Wait, wait. What’s going on? Are you okay?” I asked, reaching out to her but she dodged my hand, stepping back behind the door.

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “I just can’t make it today. I’m sorry, Tyson.”

“Wait, Savanna –“ but she was already shutting the door in my face, sealing it with the sound of her locking it as well.

“What’s going on?” Robbie asked when I made it back to the van.

“She’s not coming,” I answered. They both looked at me, waiting for me to explain but I just shook my head. “I don’t know. She’s just not coming, I guess.”

“Alright then,” Robbie said, throwing the van in reverse and backing out. “Guess it’s just the Three Musketeers!”

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Dan was already out in the water by the time we got there along with Buck. We pulled our wetsuits on and unstrapped the surfboards from the roof rack, rushing into the water to meet the other surfers out in the break. Daisy high-fived her dad and the two of them grabbed a wave together, weaving in and out, dancing around each other as if they had each other’s moves memorized. It was always exciting to watch them surf together. They were always completely in sync.

“So,“ Robbie began.

“Soda pop and bubble gum,” I interrupted. He shoved my shoulder and I let myself fall off the board. When I surfaced I spat the ocean water back at him.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he grumbled as I pulled myself back onto my board, laughing. “Care to tell me why you borrowed my car last week?”

“Oh,” I said. “That.”

“Yeah.” He replied. “That.” Next to us Dan cleared his throat.

“If you boys don’t mind, I think I’ll grab this one,” he said, excusing himself from the conversation. We watched as Dan paddled and then disappeared behind the wave. Robbie looked at me expectantly and I sighed, splashing the water with my foot.

“My dad’s lawyer called.”

“Like your dad dad?”

“Yep,” I said. “Bio dad.”

“s**t,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “What did he want?”

“For me to testify,” I shrugged, suddenly fascinated by a chip on my surfboard.

“You’re kidding,” Robbie deadpanned and I shook my head in response.

“Wish I was.” I shot him a tense smile. “He’s up for parole. Something about good behavior, serving the minimum or something. It doesn’t really matter.”

“Motherfucker,” Robbie growled, punching at the water. “Good behavior my asshole.” We sat in silence for a bit, letting the waves pass us by as we watched Buck, Dan and Daisy play in the whitewash while Daisy practiced new tricks on her longboard. “Are you going to do it?” Robbie asked.

“No.” I answered. There was no question about it – I would not be showing up to my biological father’s hearing.

“Hey!” Daisy yelled as she paddled towards us. “Are you actually going to surf or are you going to sit there with your thumbs up your asses the whole time?” I shot a smile at Robbie, grateful for the break in conversation.

“Come on,” I said as a set approached us. “Let’s show her up.”

“You got it, brother,” Robbie grinned and together we began to paddle.

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It was pouring by the time Robbie dropped me off back home. I came in dripping wet from a mixture of salt and rain water, shivering underneath my jacket. Mom clucked under her breath, following behind me with a towel, cleaning up the small puddles I left behind as I ran up to the shower which I put on as hot as it could go. The steam quickly filled the room and I relished in the hot water scalding my skin, cascading down my back and clenched my hands as I regained feeling in my fingers.

I stared down at my hands as I flexed them. They were big hands, bigger than most seventeen year-olds. One time, when I was fifteen, Dad and I measured our hands against each other’s. Even then my hands were bear claws in comparison, his own fingers hardly brushing the middle of my fingertips.

I wondered if my biological father had big hands, too. The only photograph I ever saw of him was his mug shot. I knew that I had dark eyes and hair because of him and a darker complexion as well but other than that I didn’t see any of myself in that man. Nor did I want to look closely enough to find out.

When the steam began to get to my head I shut the water off and wrapped myself in a towel, shivering as the cold air hit my bare skin, an army of goosebumps marching down my back as I pulled on sweatpants and a hoodie.

“You know,” Mom said when I came downstairs for a late breakfast, “you’re still grounded.”

“I am?” I asked with a grin. She rolled her eyes at me in response. “I’m sorry,” I said, and meant it.

“That’s okay,” she shrugged. “It’s not exactly like we tried to stop you on your way out. Besides,” she waved her hand in the air, “you’re going to be in college next year. If you want to skip school to surf I can’t stop you, but there’s no Mrs. Kingery to help you out. You’re going to have to deal with the consequences yourself.” I nodded, remembering Benedict’s similar words from the other day, as though everybody was trying to encourage me to grow up a little faster than I was actually ready to no matter how much I wanted to.

“Is this some kind of reverse psychology coping mechanism you read in your ‘how to deal with your troublesome adoptive son’ book?”

“I’ll never tell,” Mom winked before disappearing into her room, leaving me to fend for myself.