Aerial

The First Chapter

Malibu, California
Late spring 1965

Tits.

Quite possibly Harry's favorite type of jellyfish that washes ashore. It's even better that they come in pairs, in hundreds of different shapes, colors and sizes, all covered by an array of revealing fabrics as the sun beats down on them at high noon.

His legs tread through the chilled water where he sits at the tail of his beloved surfboard. His toes are pruning from the amount of time that he's killed in the ocean this morning, the salt water shriveling his skin and sunshine staining his forearms and the tip of his nose a dark, golden honey. He scans the crowded beach from his perch deep offshore as he waits for a new set to ride, waves gently rocking him side to side as he works a piece of gum between his molars.

He's several confident feet behind where the row of gremmies paddle around on their stomachs, his years of practice and skill placing him in an advanced degree ahead of the others. It's always been important to Harry to hold the highest aptitude in whatever faculty he attempts, whether it be surfing or the caliber of women he sleeps with. The word 'competitive' comes to mind, but Harry doesn't see it as a negative aspect of his personality. His recreational drive and natural instincts have always set him apart from those around him.

There isn't much thought passing by about how his day has transpired thus far and what he plans to do for the rest, just a short-sighted trill as his eyes land on stretches of exposed skin.

He can just make out movement beside the arch of a red-and-white striped umbrella with fringe on the ends, an outstretched arm waving in his direction and causing the swells from underneath her avocado green swimsuit to jiggle in the process. One corner of his mouth perks in a devilish smirk as he returns the gesture with a flirtatious ripple of his fingertips, the coaxing suction of the water beneath him indicating the arrival of another strong wave.

Harry swings his legs around and positions himself on his stomach as his heart rate accelerates with adrenaline; he loves the feeling of physical prowess and of performance. He loves the notion of impressing those around him, of drawing jealousy to the crust of other people's skin, of being gawked at while they quietly think to themselves that they will never be able to achieve what comes so easily for him. The word 'arrogant' comes to mind, but Harry doesn't see it as a negative aspect of his personality. He can't help it if he was gifted the extraordinary capacity of quick-wittedness and smooth adaptation.

His fingertips push through the choppy saline water as he paddles with all his might, fighting against the current that works so diligently to suck him backwards with the force of the tide. Once he's caught a good lead on the nature of the rough ocean, his palms flatten on the board to hoist his body into a push up, his feet popping up underneath him for purchase as his stomach muscles burn with the vigor needed to hoist himself into a crouch. He rises to standing; arms comfortably loose and legs bent as the thrill of his surfboard slicing perpendicular to the intimidatingly hefty wave coerces virility to each of his nerve endings.

Harry leans into the surfboard with his body, keeping his center of gravity stabilized as one hand drags down against the foamy crest as if to steer him through the sea like a sailboat. The clap and smack of the break against his digits makes him feel alive and purposeful, adept and in control. As if the ocean is his board game and he is the hand that rolls the dice, controlling the fate of the scheme and all of the player's fortunes around him.

He catches air and puckers his lips in concentration to stay balanced while elevated above the brine, his stomach flipping in success when he lands in a smooth glide. His board carves and meanders in a perfectly controlled zig-zag as he makes his way to the beach through the curl of the wave, the water naturally splintering against the sand as he jumps from his equipment and breaks his momentum with a couple jogging steps.