Free Silversword by Charles Knief Page B

wall, aiming at the wide sandy beach beyond.
    â€œNot so fast. You’ve got to take it easy.”
    I walked a little faster. It wasn’t a jog, and it wasn’t quick, but it was the best I could manage.
    â€œHey, Caine! You’re going to hurt yourself!”
    I kept shuffling, waiting until I reached the corner of the sea wall and climbing up onto the stairs before I pointed out to sea, reaching the fourth step as a rogue six-footer crashed against the concrete, shooting white foaming spray high into the sky.
    The surge covered me to my thighs, but I clung to the iron railing of the stairs and let the sea rush past, mindful of my incisions and the hysterical fit the doctors and the nurses would throw if I got them wet.
    Water boiled in front of the concrete wall, a white raging maelstrom, and then washed back out to sea.
    Felix had vanished.
    I started to worry until I saw his form splayed like a starfish on the sloping sand, his eyes closed, his mouth open. I thought for a moment that he had been hurt until I heard his laughter rippling across the water. He laughed a belly laugh, a roar, a helpless release, a total abandonment to mirth.
    He rolled over, swallowed water, choked, coughed, and rolled over again, so beset by his helplessness he couldn’t get up.
    Another wave washed over him and he disappeared beneath the froth.
    Now I really worried.
    He burst from the sea, a young Neptune with a happy, sloppy smile pasted across his face.
    â€œYou saw the wave!” He shouted.

    I nodded, backing up the steps.
    â€œYou didn’t tell me!” And he dissolved in laughter as another wave struck the sea wall.
    I waited until he reappeared. “You seemed so sure of yourself!”
    He pulled himself along the sea wall, suffering a continued battering, still laughing, but moving along in spite of the unexpected surge, the sea suddenly powerful.
    He rounded the corner to the stairs and joined me on the sand where I had taken refuge. The sun baked my shoulders while I rested. It felt good sitting there, smelling the sea, hearing the sounds of the surf, feeling the tropical sun gently base me with its golden warmth.
    It was good to be alive.
    â€œYou’re improving,” I said when he plopped down on the sand beside me. “Grasshopper.”
    He laughed silently, shaking his head.
    â€œYou always have to keep an eye on the ocean. She’ll always do what you don’t expect.”
    â€œShe?”
    â€œLike boats and old hurricanes. Figure of speech. From the old sailors.”
    He shook his head. “Were you trying to teach me a lesson?”
    I nodded. “Did teach you a lesson. Don’t get cocky around her.”
    Felix smiled, white even teeth in his bright brown face. “No,” he said, “not cocky.”
    I stood up. It wasn’t too difficult after all that exercise, or it wouldn’t have been too difficult if I had had a crane and a bucket. Our long walk had winded me, and I didn’t have much left.
    â€œTime for my nap,” I said.
    â€œYou really are getting better.”
    â€œIt’s a long road back.”
    â€œBut you’re on it.”
    â€œStop with the platitudes, buster. I’ve done this enough to
know how tough it is. I’ll make it. Your help makes it easier. But I still have to do it myself.”
    He slapped me on the back. “Sure you do, old man.”
    â€œOh, shut up,” I said, knowing I was being patronized, and knowing that I deserved it.
    â€œIt’s only a little farther,” he said.
    â€œI know how far it is.” I limped across the sand toward the Royal Hawaiian. We’d been gone for three hours, had covered nearly ten miles of ground, and I’d walked the entire way. I was tired, but otherwise felt loose and agile, the walk the stimulus I needed to get my blood going again. Too many days in too many hospital beds had clogged my fluids, plugged my head, and made me logy. It