“Beach Boy” by Michelle Ong

Montgomery dipped his ankles into Lake Toba. Orange and red streaked the sky. The palms surrounding the lake swayed briefly with a passing breeze. He could only hear the sound of the water lapping against the rotted wood of the pier and the exhalations of Budi beside him.

“Are you really going to Bali?” Budi asked, releasing another puff of cigarette smoke that drifted into Montgomery’s nostrils.

“There are jobs out there. Tourism is doing well. Do you remember how Leo left a year ago? He has his own place now and is making good money teaching the bules how to surf.”

“How can you be so sure? We haven’t seen him. You might get mixed up in something over there. I’ve heard stories. Bali is different from here. The people are different. You don’t even know how to surf.”

“I can learn. How difficult can it be?” Montgomery laughed and dived into the lake. He quickly swam a few feet from the pier and tried to float on his back, but his stomach folded. He spit water and rubbed his eyes while Budi teased him. The call to prayer suddenly rang out.

“I have to go, but good luck learning how to surf. I will visit you and the other beach boys sometime.”

* * *

Montgomery’s family wished him well the next morning. He clambered onto the roof of the bus and waved as the bus lurched forward. The bus gradually picked up speed and he leaned against a couple of rice sacks and baskets filled with produce. The wind whipped through his hair and stroked his face. He zipped up his light jacket and hoped the wind wouldn’t creep into his lungs.

After slowly saving for months, his family had purchased an airline ticket for him. With only a small satchel and a few gifts for Leo, Montgomery left his hometown for the first time. He conversed with other passengers who advised him on jobs in Bali and places to visit. When he finally arrived at the airport, the flight was delayed. The confused gate agents relayed different times and reasons for the delay.

The foreigners sitting in the crowd were easy to spot by their pale skin and lighter hair color. Montgomery chose an empty seat near one group who briefly glanced at him when he sat down. He eavesdropped on their conversation, but could only understand a few words of English. They spoke in a blur, meshing words together and swallowing syllables.

They were much bigger than him. There were two women in the group. The blonde one was at least a foot taller than him and twice his body weight. She flashed white teeth whenever she laughed, but glared whenever she caught him staring at her. The other woman had curly brown hair and wore a long sleeveless dress that revealed thick fleshy arms that wobbled as she moved. Sunspots peppered her sunburned and flaking skin. She wore large sunglasses and a wide brimmed hat. A large necklace of aquamarine beads hung around her neck and focused attention on her low neck line.

The men were also hefty. They were both blonde and ruddy and rested their fat hands on their paunches. Yet despite their stoutness, they wore thin flip flops that encumbered them as they paced. Montgomery found their dainty steps and the unsteady flap of their shoes on the tile floors so comical that he couldn’t help laughing. The taller of the two stopped short and approached him. Sweat had beaded along his hair line and stained his shirt. He scowled at Montgomery and asked, “What’s so funny? Never seen a bule before?”

Montgomery simply gaped at the man until he cursed and waddled back to his seat. His wife sighed and fussed. “They don’t understand, dear,” she said. “There’s no point trying.”

When they finally boarded the plane, Montgomery realized his seat was across from the two women. They noticed and frowned and exchanged a few nasty remarks in heightened voices, then ignored him for the rest of the flight.

When they landed in Denpasar, Montgomery immediately jumped into the aisle. He grabbed his satchel from the overhead compartment as the plane halted and waited nervously for the door to open. He peeked at the two women who sat stiffly in their seats, scowling at the people who blocked them from retrieving their bags. The door finally opened and Montgomery filed out of the plane.

His friend, Leo, was waiting outside, astride his motorcycle and grinning.

“Welcome to Bali, my friend.”

Montgomery smiled and took the helmet Leo handed to him and hopped onto the back of the motorcycle. They roared out of the airport, leaving a large plume of exhaust just as the two couples bundled themselves into a taxi.

Leo drove out of Denpasar and into the narrow streets of Kuta. They zipped past surf shops, open-aired restaurants, and stands selling bead necklaces and trinkets. Leo hooted at foreign women wearing bikinis on the street. They usually ignored him, but a few yelled back insults and curses and one woman managed to hit Montgomery with an empty beer can.

Leo stopped in front of a small thatch house. Bamboo mats lined the floor and a few small square windows opened to the lushness outside. A few men were lounging on the floor smoking cigarettes.

“This is my friend from Lake Toba,” Leo said. “He has finally followed my advice to come here for a better life.”

One man laughed. “Good luck trying to get a better life here,” he said. “We’re treated like children by the foreigners. Some think they are being kind by laughing at us. The others, the meaner ones, at least show you how much they despise you. But we have to grovel and smile to keep the tourism money.”

“Don’t listen to Stefan,” Leo said. “He’s brokenhearted about an Australian girl.”

The other guys snickered as Stefan sulked and left the hut.

“Where’s he going?” Montgomery asked.

Leo shrugged. “Probably to the café. We’ll take you there after I teach you how to surf. It’s where we hang out every night.”

Montgomery stood at the doorway and watched the pedestrians. He lifted off his shirt to only wear the pair of board shorts his mother had bought him before he left. He balanced the arches of his feet on the ledge and curled his toes down. The air was warm and smelled muskier. His heart thudded in his narrow chest and his skin tingled in anticipation.

“You’re ready, aren’t you?” Leo asked. He disappeared into a backroom and returned holding two longboards under one arm. He handed one to Montgomery and left the house. Montgomery’s arm began to ache as they walked down the street.

“You’ll get used to it,” Leo said.

They walked a few blocks to the wide sidewalk parallel to the beach, passing multicolored longboards rising from the sand like pillars. Other beach boys who had already established camp for the day yelled out greetings.

“Who’s your friend?” they called out.

“A friend from back home,” Leo replied each time. They waved and smiled at Montgomery and said, “Welcome.”

But Montgomery, eager to release the board, could only smile weakly in return, forgetting the blur of faces and greetings as soon as they passed each group. Large groups of foreigners dominated the sidewalk, unaware of the approaching longboards. Montgomery accidentally poked one tall man with the nose of his board. The man turned around with a frown that flipped into a smile at seeing the surfboard. He stepped onto the street to let them pass and said, “Have a nice ride,” in Indonesian.

They settled on the wide shadow of a palm tree. The beach boys crowded around them in greeting and started giving Montgomery some pointers. Leo brushed them aside and placed his board on the ground. He stretched himself on it, his toes near the end of the board and demonstrated how to paddle out and balance his body on the board.

Montgomery imitated his position and felt the solidity of the board beneath him. He practiced paddling and strained his neck to watch the surfers bobbing in the water in front of him.

“Okay, now stand over here,” Leo said, waiting for him beside the boards. “Stand with your back to me, facing the ocean.”

Leo suddenly pushed Montgomery forward. Montgomery immediately caught himself and turned to stare quizzically at Leo.

“Good, you’re regular,” Leo said. “So this is how you’ll stand on the board. Bend your knees and remember to keep the weight of your body near the center of the board.”

Montgomery practiced on his board, feeling the sand shift beneath it.

“Now we practice in the water,” Leo said. “We usually get bules asking for lessons once they wake up from their hangovers. But today, we surf.”

They trotted to the shoreline and let the boards float atop the shallow water. Leo tied the leash of the board around Montgomery’s ankle.

“What about yours?” Montgomery asked.

Leo shook his head. “This is only so you don’t lose the board on your first day. Leashes can be dangerous, man. You’ll realize this soon.”

Montgomery dug his toes into the sand. They continued walking out, their torsos interrupting each passing wave, until the water rose above their knees. The distant oncoming waves rolled and surged and appeared larger than they had on shore. They periodically turned around to let the waves slap their backs instead of their faces.

“Hold onto your board when we get closer to that line,” Leo said. “Start paddling out.”

Montgomery slipped off the slick surface of his board before he had a chance to lift both legs onto it. The board rocked unsteadily when he managed to clamber on top. He grabbed the rails and centered himself until the board stopped quaking. Leo had already struck out and was swiftly moving toward the horizon.

Montgomery began paddling, his hands and forearms dipping into the water, but failed to advance. His neck throbbed from peering ahead and the sun kissed him with feverish lips. He plunged his hands into the water, keeping his fingers closed, and averted his head from each passing wave. He eventually felt the board move beneath him and reached Leo, who straddled his board and faced the horizon. Behind them, the shore was a distant blur of green and black. In front, the water stretched for eternity. A simple line demarcated sky and ocean, and the stillness of the scene calmed Montgomery.

He broke from the trance and glanced at the distant surfers also waiting. He felt akin to them. They were the kindred spirits he would only encounter in this new realm of simplicity.

“Get ready for the next one,” Leo said.

Montgomery spied a wave approaching them and turned his board slowly around. The roar of the wave was almost upon him as he finally straightened the board to point toward shore. Before he could pop up, the wave broke over him and he tumbled off the board, flipping it over in the process. He kicked himself back toward the surface and rested his chin on the waiting board.

“Are you all right, man?” Leo asked. “You gotta stand up, remember?”

Montgomery nodded. “I’ll get the next one.”

The sea resumed its tranquility and they waited again, gazing on that unending stillness until a wave sprouted. Montgomery prepared himself. When he heard the wave calling to him and felt the pull of the water, he paddled forward and instinctively popped up. He watched the board race beneath him as the water carried him to shore. Then he shifted his weight slightly and immediately plummeted into the water, bumping his bottom on the seabed.

When he broke through the surface, he grinned at Leo, a mere blot in the horizon, and immediately climbed back onto his board to paddle back out again.

They continued surfing until sunset, when a sudden flash of colors filled the sky before the night swallowed them. They returned to shore as shadows and walked back to the hut as tourists filled the streets for the evening.

Briefly donning shirts, they celebrated at the café. Montgomery leaned back in his chair still feeling blissful from a fulfilling first day. He listened to Leo croon as he picked at his guitar.

“Bloody hell,” someone suddenly remarked. He turned his head and saw the two couples from the airplane. The man he had laughed at earlier banged his fist on the table. “Where’s our damn waiter? It’s a good thing we don’t have to tip in this country.”

“Let’s just go somewhere else, hon,” the man’s wife said.

“No. There aren’t any other decent restaurants near the hotel. What a rat hole this whole island is. Everywhere you go the sellers are yelling at you to buy their crap. You just can’t get away from all these parasites.”

Leo rolled his eyes at Montgomery. “These damn bules,” he said. “No respect.”

Montgomery nodded.

“C’mon, let’s go sit on the beach,” Leo said. “It’s quieter there.”

Montgomery attempted to follow his friends out without attracting attention. He kept his eyes down on the wooden floor as he passed the table where the couples sat.

“You!” Montgomery’s heart sank. The man’s chair scraped against the floor and his broad chest soon confronted him. He met the man’s bloodshot eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s that boy from the airport,” his wife said. “Is he following us?”

“Are you following us, boy?” the man asked, jabbing Montgomery in the chest.

Montgomery shook his head. Leo intervened. “He doesn’t speak English. Why don’t you leave him alone? He was trying to leave.”

The man shoved Leo aside. “This is none of your business.”

A loose circle of Indonesians formed around them.

“Who do you think you are?” the man said. “Do you think you can insult us because we’re foreigners in your country?”

His wife tried to pull him back by his sleeve. “Honey, it’s not worth it. He’s too stupid to understand you.”

“I know what you’re up to,” the man said. “You people. You’re so lazy and backwards. This is why your country’s a cesspool.”

A man sitting nearby abruptly stood up. “You’re drunk,” he said. He towered over the man. His friends stood up behind him, holding the neck of their beer bottles firmly.

“You don’t understand. This native has been following us all day. He’s ruining our holiday.”

“He was trying to leave with his friends,” the tall man said. “He was minding his own business.”

“Why are you on his side?”

Montgomery suddenly recognized the tall man as the pedestrian who had greeted him earlier.

“He’s my mate,” the tall man said.

“This guy? You’re as much of a bum as he is.”

“Hey now, there’s no need for insults.”

“You surfers,” the man said. “Why don’t you get jobs? Do something useful for a change.”

The tall man and his friends laughed. “And be grand like you?” the tall man asked.

“Let’s go, dear,” the man’s wife said. “We can eat at the Hard Rock Café.”

Everyone in the café silently watched the two couples leave. Tension eased as soon as the door closed behind them.

“What’s your name?” the tall man asked Montgomery in Indonesian.

“Montgomery.”

“I’m Kenneth. Nice to meet you. You guys should join us. What are you drinking?”

Montgomery shook his head. “I don’t drink.”

“He drinks,” Leo said. “We all drink.”

Around them, the surfers exchanged names and greetings. They settled around the table and began conversing in both Indonesian and English.

“It’s not allowed,” Montgomery whispered to Leo. “What are you doing?”

“You’re in Bali now. Among friends. Relax.”

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Michelle Ong’s work has been published in Windhover, Is Greater Than, and LITSNACK, among others. She blogs at http://trackflightstatus.blogspot.com.