Los Angeles, 1980
MILES HAD GRADUATED from Berkeley, to his own surprise as much as everyone else’s, summa cum laude in Mathematics.
He walked across the college lawns, towards Hugo and Mrs Kelly who had attended his graduation along with Father Kennedy (an ill-assorted trio, he thought, but what the hell), smiling happily. He looked superb; a beautiful, successful, golden boy. He had had four glorious years; it showed.
‘Hi.’
‘Hello, Miles. Well done.’
‘Thanks, Hugo.’
Mrs Kelly’s eyes were full of tears. She was cross about them, and sniffed fiercely. ‘Congratulations, Miles. I wish your ma was here.’
‘So do I.’ But he didn’t look sad. He didn’t feel sad. Not really. It was too long ago. It was the future that mattered now.
Miles looked towards it, assured, successful, easy, and felt deeply pleased with himself.
Later that night, when they were home and Father Kennedy had gone back to the refuge, the three of them sat in the house in Latego Canyon and watched the sunset.
‘What next then, Miles?’ said Hugo.
‘Well, you tell me,’ said Miles cheerfully.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I kind of thought you would be helping.’
‘In what way?’
‘Getting me a job.’
‘Oh, no, Miles, you’ve misunderstood me, I’m afraid. I’ve no intention of finding you a job.’
‘God, Hugo, why not? You’re a rich man. You have a company. Can’t it find a space for me?’
‘No. It can’t.’
Miles was genuinely astounded; he looked physically winded, betrayed.
‘Because I simply don’t believe in that sort of thing.’
Miles shook his head, smiling.
‘I’m just not hearing all this.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, all these years, I’ve been slaving away–’
‘At my expense.’
‘OK, but you offered. Slaving away, thinking it was all with a clear end in view. That you’d help me get a real good job.’
‘I will help you, Miles. But I’m not giving you one.’
Miles stood up. He looked at Hugo with deep contempt.
‘I just can’t believe anyone can be so mean.’
‘Miles!’ said Mrs Kelly. ‘How dare you. After all that Mr Dashwood has done.’
‘What’s he done?’ said Miles. ‘Signed a few cheques. Is he going to put himself on the line, present me to his company, his fancy friends and associates? He is not. I’m on my own now, Hugo, is that it?’
‘Possibly. With a damn good college education behind you. I don’t call that alone.’
‘You’ve built me up, given me fancy ideas and a smart education, encouraged me to think I was worth something, taken me away from my friends, and now you’re dropping me just back where I belonged. Well thanks a lot.’
‘This really is the most extraordinary way to look at things, Miles.’
‘Is it? I’d have thought it was your way that was extraordinary. To have the power to help and refuse it.’
‘I’m prepared to do what I can. To speak to some associates, perhaps. To give you good references.’
‘Oh, spare me. Don’t bother. I don’t want any lousy job anyway. I never did. It was all your idea. I’m going to see Joanna.’
‘Perhaps she’ll put some sense into your head,’ said Hugo. He was white and shaken.
‘Perhaps she will. But not the way you mean. Good night, Hugo.’
‘I’m real sorry, Mr Dashwood’ said Mrs Kelly. ‘I would never have believed it.’
‘No,’ said Hugo, ‘neither would I. Well, maybe Joanna will help. She’s a very sensible young woman.’
Joanna didn’t help. She couldn’t help. Nobody could. Miles had invested four years of very hard work in what he thought was an easy option of a future, and now he felt cheated of it. And he had no intention of working any more.
He took to the beach. He joined the other surf bums who made it their life; he spent every day waiting for the wave. Or riding it. Occasionally earning a little money. He would pump gas. Deliver the odd grocery order. Serve in Alice’s; maybe push a little grass. He smoked a lot of grass. Nothing more harmful than that; they all did. It was a strong brotherhood they had, the surfers. They had total loyalty to each other; none at all for the geeks, the incompetent newcomers who got in the way. Their only concern was waiting for the bitchin’, the real quality surf, and enjoying it.
Joanna tried. She really tried. She argued, she pleaded, she threatened. She kept asking him why a person with a fine degree, a good brain, should just drop out, just like that. Let his folks down.
‘I don’t have any folks. Not really. And the ones who want to be, let me down.’
‘Miles, that’s ridiculous. Mr Dashwood did so much for you.’
‘Nothing difficult. He won’t help when it’s really needed.’
She looked at him scornfully. ‘You’re really pathetic.’
‘You have a right to your opinion.’
Joanna was working in the costume studio at Parmount. She loved it. She was happy, successful. She wanted Miles to be successful too. She hated what he had become. But she still loved him. She couldn’t quite walk out on him. Besides, she felt, in a strange way he still needed her. He didn’t.
Mrs Kelly tried too. ‘Miles, for God’s sake. Is this what I gave up my home and my friends for? So you could spend your life bumming about on that surf? Pull yourself together. Your mother would be ashamed.’
‘I don’t think so. I think she’d understand.’
Mrs Kelly thought of going back home to Ohio. She couldn’t bear to see Miles throwing his life away. But like Joanna, she felt that deep down he needed her.
Hugo came from time to time. All that ever happened was that he and Miles had terrible rows. Once Mrs Kelly had said couldn’t he maybe do what Miles wanted, give him a job. Hugo said he couldn’t. He really couldn’t. Especially not now. Not after all Miles had said. But he would stay in touch. And he begged Mrs Kelly not to give up. He felt Miles needed her. Needed them all.
But Miles didn’t need anybody. All he needed in the world was the surf and the sun, and his board, and the sweet dizzy feeling that was like sex, of elation and release when he caught a good wave and rode it in to the shore.
And nobody was going to take it away from him.