Free Close Out by Todd Strasser Page B

was lost in thought.
    â€œKnow what I just realized?” Bean muttered. “It almost doesn’t matter where we hide the boards, because all Goldilocks has to do is look for someone driving around in an old hearse. I mean, it’s not like it’s hard to find me.”
    â€œIt’s possible,” Kai said.
    â€œWhy did I let you talk me into doing this?” Bean asked. “Why, why, why?”
    â€œBecause you’re a good guy.”
    â€œGood and stupid,” Bean grumbled. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.“So where are we going to hide twelve surfboards anyway?”
    â€œIn the one place where Goldilocks won’t want to look,” Kai answered.
    â€œAnd that would be where?”
    Kai smiled at him.
    â€œOh, no,” Bean groaned.
    Next to the embalming room in the basement of the L. Baiter & Son funeral home was the dressing room, where bodies were dressed in their Sunday finest and placed in whatever casket their loved ones had chosen to purchase for the occasion. On previous visits to Bean’s place of residence and work, Kai had noticed that Bean and his father used a conveyor belt to send empty caskets down to the dressing room, and to bring the loaded caskets up and out to the back of the building to be placed in a hearse.
    Kai stayed upstairs and fed surfboards onto the conveyor belt while Bean was downstairs in the dressing room taking them off. Once he’d finished, Kai went downstairs to help Bean store the boards safely. Ironically the caskets in the dressing room were stored on the same size sawhorses that a shaper would use for a surfboard.
    â€œHow long are we going to keep them here?” Bean asked.
    â€œDon’t know,” Kai said.
    â€œHere’s an idea,” said Bean. “Maybe someday I’ll turn this place into the L. Baiter and Son Funeral Home and Surfboard Shop. When things get slow in the undertaking business, I’ll just use the embalming room as a shaping room, and I’ll paint and glass the boards in here.”
    â€œYou could do sponsorship deals and shape your own caskets, too,” Kai said, rapping his knuckles against a heavy dark wooden casket. “Instead of making them out of wood, make them out of foam and fiberglass. And instead of painting them dark brown and black, spray paint them Day-Glo colors with cool designs.”
    â€œWith sponsors’ stickers,” Bean quipped. “‘Ladies and gentlemen, this funeral is sponsored by Volcom and Reef.’ Hey, wait, forget the caskets. We could put the sponsors’ stickers right on the bodies themselves for the open-casket viewing. Roberta and David Stevens bring you the body of their dearly beloved father, Morris Stevens, sponsored by Gonzo Traction Pads and Hellfire Surf Wax.”
    â€œNow
that’s
sick,” Kai said.
    Bean twirled the end of his long braided ponytail between his fingers. “I have to say that being your friend has been a truly bizarre and unique experience.” He checked his watch. “It’s late and I have a feeling tomorrow’s gonna be the first day in a week with any kind of rideable surf, so don’t ask me to do anything else tonight, okay? You’re a great guy, but I’ve done you all the favors I’m going to do, understood?”
    â€œUnderstood,” Kai said.
    â€œGreat. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Bean turned toward the stairs.
    â€œUh, Bean?” Kai said.
    Bean stopped. “Now what?”
    â€œOne last favor?”
    Kai’s friend stiffened with anticipation. “What’d I just tell you?”
    â€œI was just wondering if I could stay here tonight?”
    Bean’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Sure, Kai.”

Thirteen
    H e and his mom were snorkeling over a shallow reef. Around them in the water half a dozen brownish-green sea turtles flapped their fins lazily and gnawed at outcroppings of coral. The turtles ranged from