The Riders Arrive

On the fifth day the riders arrived. All morning, trucks came up the narrow road on the clifftop. They carried jet skis and special surfboards, long and narrow and heavy, like arrows for the water. Dogs trotted beside the wheels. Gulls called overhead, telling the news.

Inside the old fort there is a special room. Famous surfboards hang on the stone walls. Every board once rode a giant wave here. Some boards are broken in half, and they hang there too. Polly hopped from board to board and looked at each one for a long time.

In the afternoon, everyone studied the sea. A row of seabirds sat on the fort wall, wing to wing. At the end stood the old albatross with his spyglass. Nobody made a sound. The sea rolled in slow, heavy lines. Every line said the same thing. Tomorrow.

That night Polly stayed on the lantern. She pressed against the warm red metal. The swell boomed in the dark. She slept only a little, like a child before a big day.