Secrets, Lies and Dragonflies

Chapter 33

We weave around the chairs, umbrellas and blankets covering the beach until we reach the group. Paired with a surfboard and suited up for the water, everyone is intently listening to a new instructor. I slip in behind Courtnee and Ashley, whose big curly hair blocks my view of the demonstration.   

With a voice that sounds jarringly familiar, the teacher's arms are going every which way. "When you get out there, the first thing I want you to do is imagine your board as an extension of you.  If you think it's going to slip out from under you, it will.  But concentrate on how the waves feel, as if the board is part of you.  Do that and the entire session will feel amazing." She tosses a surfboard on the sand and collapses on the top of it.  Lying flat, she grabs the side rails and lifts her head up, looking like a turtle sticking its neck out of the shell.

"Hey. I know that one. Upward dog," Ashley says.  But she mentions nothing about a beach behind Landry High School.  Nothing about the strange teachers and bazaar costume changes.   

Courtnee laughs softly. "Yeah, that's what I was thinking." Her thick brown hair is neatly braided to the side, and cascades down the front of her shoulder, tied off with a pretty gold cuff at the end.    

"To get past oncoming waves, you'll grasp the sides of your board like this.  Then press down into a duck dive to go under the approaching wave.  You'll do this as many times as needed to get past the shore pound. Master that skill, then you've got a good chance to get out there where the real action is."

"Uh, duck dive?" Monique says, front and center and engrossed in the lesson. 

My view still blocked, the instructor continues her role play. "Right. Just grasp the rails like so and shift all your weight forward. Lean into the water, pushing the tip of the board under the surface to go under the approaching waves as they come. When you're finally through the rough, settle into a good spot and wait. Watch the horizon for the swell. Be in position and commit to the approaching wave. When you see it, paddle hard. It's all or nothing at that point. There's no halfway."  Springing to her feet, I can tell she's a petite woman. Standing atop the board, she says, "And then you get into position and squat slightly, but be firm.  

I step to the side to get a better look, freaked that this person could be the one who's to blame for my insanity. 

"And then just fly," she says.  Her head spins like a panoramic camera eyeing every student. "Got it?"

I stumble backward and can't catch my breath. How can she be here, too? The door. I need to get back to the door.

"Hey, Mackenzie. You okay?" Courtnee asks. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Remembering my promise, I say nothing of my suspicious. "Oh, yeah. I'm good. Having flashbacks about that duck diving thing. Tried it once when I lived in Florida. Drank a boat load of seawater."

Courtnee scrunches her face. "That sounds horrible."

"Now it's your turn, girls."  Counselor Cassie's doppelganger jumps from her practice board. "Place your boards gently on the sand and practice duck diving then move into the landing. One foot forward, the other to the back and arms out for balance."

As soon as everyone hits the ground, she immediately zones in on me and sprints over. "Hey there. Glad Mr. Peter finally brought you down. My name's Joan. You must be Mackenzie?" She sticks her hand out.

I shake it, trying not to be impolite, not even to my own hallucinations. Their likeness is uncanny. "Right. You're Joan. Not my counselor, Cassie, but Joan." 

She gives me a cockeyed look. "No, not Cassie.  Just Joan."

Mr. Peter steps between us. "Tell me Joan, how have things been looking out there?"