Waiting wasn't my best thing.

I was young and I wanted what I wanted. It's what young people do. We want to feel the motion and participate in the moving. A skateboard is a wonderful way to move if you need to get from here to there.

I didn't move much at Hitchcock's Market. When a truck came to unload, I helped the driver. This way I got the canned goods in the row where they belonged faster. Most of the rest of the day I spent putting stock on the shelves.

None of the work I did was very hard. No one needed to tell me what to do.

Mr Hitchcock liked me because I didn't sit around waiting for him to tell me what he wanted me to do. After a week, with Mr Hitchcock in the middle of everything I did, I asked him to step aside so I could do my job. After that, once I did what Mr Hitchcock showed me how to do, he realized I knew my job.

If the rest of my life was like working at Hitchcock's, I would do fine. If everyone treated me like Mr Hitchcock did, I'd be fine. The customers that came into Hitchcock's usually came with a smile and a thank you very much. That made it a nice place to work and I did my best to be helpful to the customers, especially when they couldn't find something they had come in for.

Since Mr Hitchcock stocked specialty items that big grocery stores didn't carry, people came in for them. Specialty items were usually of high quality and a price that matched. That meant Hitchcock's customers had the money to spend. That required us to greet them with a smile, while taking care of their needs.

Mr Hitchcock approached me with a proposition once I started my 3rd year at his market.

"Z, I can't afford to give you a raise you've earned. You make more money than I do, and there just isn't enough income to keep giving you raises. I can either cut your hours, or put you on salary."

"Mr Hitchcock, I can't get everything done if you cut my hours."

"If you go on salary, Z. You'll know what you'll take home each week, but you won't be getting paid for all the work you do. When the time comes, and we're making more money, I'll see that you get what you deserve. For now, that's the best I can offer you."

Since I started working at Hitchcock's, Mr Hitchcock feared I'd quit. I liked my job and I wasn't interested in working for anyone else, so I went on salary. Nothing changed. I handed my check to my father at the end of each week. He gave me $20.00 in cash. The rest went into the bank. I'd never paid much attention to the amount, but my father knew to the dime how much I had, whenever I asked him.

His wanting to buy me a car passed after I'd been at Hitchcock's for a year. Most of my check went into my savings account, and I could afford to buy a car if I wanted one, but once you paid insurance, maintenance, gas and oil, I wouldn't have had a savings account. I stuck to my skateboard.

My life was as good as it had been, except Free wasn't in it any longer. I didn't dwell on it, but it was the one thing that was missing when I thought about how good things were. I had most of what I imagined I would before we arrived in California.

It wasn't like I didn't see a dozen surfers a week I'd have gone with, but they lived at least a hundred miles away from where I lived. We did surf La Jolla and Ocean Beach when nearby storms meant the surf was up, but that wasn't very often. San Diego was paradise and that meant there weren't many storms.

I was aware, 'Good things come to those who wait.' I waited to find a new direction to devote my life to. I was fine at work. I was fine while I waited for Skip to come to take me surfing. I needed to find things to do with the days that Skip didn't come for me. I thought the skaters in El Cajon were where I'd have my best shot at finding a nice boy to hang with.

My journey to and from Hitchcock's took me a few blocks from the mall. It wasn't far to skate to the mall to sit on my patch of grass. I had an hour to play with before dinner. Even if I was a bit late, I could pop a plate into the microwave. I'd need to be really late for my parents to begin to worry. They knew my routine.

On Tuesday evenings I was almost always late. I'd stay until all the canned goods were on the shelves. It was rare for any shelves to be empty on Thursday morning when I came in an hour early. Wednesday was not a busy day.

I was usually ready when Skip drove up to my house. Certainly after some length of time, Skip knew his search for Chet was futile. If he ran across him, it would be by accident, and not while we drove the streets of El Cajon. I wondered if the search for his friend couldn't be his way of not being tied down to one boy.

Was there a Chet at all? I'd probably never know.

I didn't mind our searches, because they ended with surfing the rest of the day. What was left of the day, we spent less and less time searching for Chet.

I started Wednesdays at low ebb. If I left Hitchcock's Market by seven the night before, I was home by seven thirty. By the time I ate, showered, and got into bed, I was worn out and I didn't always sleep well.

Skip would be at the door by nine the next morning, and I wasn't always bright eyed and bushy tailed, but once Skip showed up, my energy level began to surge with the anticipation of going surfing. That excited me in a way nothing else did.

The sights and sounds of life in Skip's orbit were far more exciting than in my own. I was trying harder, but I had fun when I was with Skip. I was happy. It wasn't perfect, but it was okay. I was doing it my way and in my own time.

Fear that I was seeing my destiny in Skip's quest for lost love disturbed me. Should I explore my thoughts when they came to me?

Was I digging a hole in my mind to bury Free's memory for once and for all, or was the hole I was digging the one I couldn't climb out of?

If I could climb out, did I leave the memory of lost love behind?

How did anyone know what to do to get a proper end for lost love?

Love was a sticky substance that demanded attention, even after love has gone. How long is too long to wait for love to return?

Thoughts like the ones about how far Skip and I had gone were thoughts that made me smile. While doing mundane tasks, my mind wandered. I often had thoughts that made me feel frisky. Skip was the only boy I was being frisky with, and my thoughts of him intensified the closer Wednesday came.

Remembering Free always put a smile on my face. Dreaming of being with Free was foolish. Getting too deeply in thoughts of Free, and I redirected my thoughts to soon being with Skip. Thoughts of Skip were more vivid as well as more current. Free was gone over a year and his letters were few.

I was angry with Free for a while. I was angry with Free and his recruiter. I was even angry with myself for not being able to hold on to my man. Anger did nothing but make me miserable. The easiest way to handle it was to accept it. If there had been something I could have done, I'd have done it. It was what it was.

Things happened I had no control over. Free leaving was one of those.

I wouldn't have met Skip if Free hadn't gone. Skip was responsible for me becoming a surfer. There are California boys who don't surf, but I'm not one of those. I suppose I regarded myself as a genuine California boy once I could surf.

To say I looked forward to going surfing was an understatement. My excitement grew while we drove up the coast. My first look at the ocean always made me smile. If I could see the waves, my smile grew even more.

I could have been with Skip and no one else, but Skip liked variety. It made a certain kind of sense. If you couldn't be with the boy you loved, being with a number of boys might get you where you wanted to go.

Skip and I were just friends, but we became better friends as time went on. In spite of what Skip said, when we finished giving each other what for, he began allowing me to hold him for a while before he left. Early on it was get to it, get er done, and he got on up the road.

I never feared my parents. They didn't act like jailers or disciplinarians who needed to beat hell out of me. My parents offered me encouragement and did their best to furnish me with things that were useful to me.

If I showed interest in something, my parents made sure I got access to it. I was able to explore it as far as I decided to go with it. Even when we didn't have enough money to pay all the bills each month, if I showed interest in something, they did their best to get it for me.

The move to California was precipitated by a man who was my father's client at the bank he worked for. The man's business, which my father authorized loans to get it off the ground, did far better than the man could have imagined. After five years, the man was moving his business to California. He asked my father to be the chief financial officer at twice the pay he made at the bank.

Had my father been busy the day the man came in to get his first loan, or if my father had been sick that day, or if he'd gone to take a piss, there would have been no move to California five years later.

Had Free not gotten mixed up with that Navy recruiter, would he have still been where I could get my hands on him. If Free hadn't left, would I have met Skip and learned to surf? Life was a crap shoot. The best thing you can do is the best you can and hope it all turns out well, but don't go to piss too often, your entire life might depend on whether you turn right or left at the next corner.

I met Skip because I stumbled across Gordo, after not seeing him for months, and Gordo knew Skip. Skip came over to chat up Gordo, which he said he would not have done if I hadn't been with him. Skip regarded Gordo as a space cadet, and he didn't like his brand of insanity.

I hadn't seen Gordo since the day he introduced me to Skip. I heard nothing about him. On the day I ran into him by accident, became the day I hooked up with a guy who taught me to surf and he took me surfing on a regular basis. What kind of random nonsense is that?

If I wasn't hungry the day I met Free, we might not have met. Would I have discovered love elsewhere? Would I have met Skip? Would I know how to surf?

The things I thought about most each week were going surfing and spending another wonderful day with Skip.

What if Gordo slept in the day I was supposed to meet Skip?

What if Skip decided he wanted Wendy's instead of MacDonald's?

I hadn't seen Gordo since the day he introduced me to Skip, and I hadn't seen him a long time before that day. Why was he where I needed someone to be in order for me to learn to surf and find a playmate who would keep me from longing for love?

*****

While skating home one day, I passed John, going the other way.

"Hey, John," I said, not forgetting the rangy skater.

The next thing I knew, John was skating beside me.

"What's your hurry," he said, and we stopped. "I heard about Free. I figured you'd be back around the mall, but I haven't seen you."

"I mainly work and do a little surfing," I told him.

"Guys ask me if I've seen you," John said. "Now, I can say I have."

"A little preoccupied with work and surfing, I guess. A lot of time to fill without Free filling it," I explained.

"I can say I'm not Free, but I do spend time with guys who are friendly and I don't mind a little tit for tat when I'm in the mood. You need to stay in touch with your friends."

John was one of the guys who did, because I'd seen him doing it. He always seemed aloof around me, but that was before anyone knew me. Once I was on Free's dance card, no one else was on my mind, even when I saw a boy dallying with a boy who did.

I didn't want just anyone to do it with, but John was a good looking dude. I wouldn't fall for a guy like him, but I would help him out in a pinch.

John reminded me of the skaters I met when I first got to El Cajon. I had gone to sit on the patch of lawn near the mall a few days. I said, hello to skaters who skated past. I needed to make it a habit of going on a regular basis.

I'd been going straight home from work each evening. There was really no reason for it. We didn't eat until seven and I could stop on my patch of lawn and say hello to the skaters I knew. Skaters hadn't been on my mind as much, because I was surfing more than before.

Spending all my time with Free kept me away from places where I met skaters. It was funny how my mind worked. I didn't think about skaters once Free left. When I first moved to California, the skaters were the boys I looked for first. Skaters were the boys I looked for first, because i was a skater.

The air was fresh. The traffic was plentiful, and the patch of grass was soft. I leaned back and put my skateboard on the grass beside me.

I was trying to keep my mind off of someone to love. Free and I got together by sitting at the same table with other skaters at the food court. When we left, we left together and we stayed together. I didn't predict love or see it coming my way. If I loved again, that's how it was going to happen. I'd be in the right place at the right time, and love would be waiting for me when I got there.

There were people I knew and things I liked doing before Free. I didn't just put my former life on hold, I forgot about how to find the boys I liked after I got to California. It didn't take much looking to find what I was looking for. Skaters abounded and I fell in with them in short order.

While visiting the patch of grass where I frequently sat, I flashed back to a memory I hadn't visited in some time. I had seen the boy I thought I could love skating in the storm drain over by Santee. I thought of him all the time after I first saw him, but that was years ago now. That ship sailed a long time ago.

He'd been a handsome red head even at a distance. He saw me on the bridge and we looked at each other. He proceeded to put on a show for me. I'd forgot about the red head. I'd never seen a skater skate higher than he did. With perfect control, he went up one side of the half pipe, plunging back down in the storm drain and back up the other side.

He took my breath away. When he finished, he looked directly at me and he smiled. He took a bow. I was smiling when he looked at me again.

I watched him skate away. I checked traffic before running to the other side of the bridge. Even from behind he looked good. The Spandex he wore showed off his perfect ass. He was a perfect boy who skated like a dancer, dancing in air.

I hadn't thought of him in a long time. Wow! What a memory to have.

I smiled at the thought of him.

I'd seen a boy I'm sure I could have loved, but alas, he skated into my life and out of it in about five minutes.

That's the day I knew California would be a magic place.

Where else could I see a beautiful boy and have him put on a show for me?

I was sure I saw him in the same place not long ago. He was skating in the storm drain. He passed under the bridge I was crossing. He didn't look up.

I attempted to run across the bridge to yell for him to stop. That didn't go well. He skated out of my life for a second time, but he was still around. His red hair stood out. Besides Skip, he was the only other red head I'd seen out here. I was positive he was the same boy I'd seen right after moving to El Cajon.

I'd never seen the red head skating on the streets around the mall. It is where most skaters passed a few times each day. The patch of grass I staked out was right on the skater's main street of travel. No matter where you were going, Broadway was in the middle of everything, but I hadn't sat there since Free left over a year before.

I've been in El Cajon going on three years. My life was relatively settled. I had a routine that worked for me and I got to surf regularly. Finding love took eighteen years the first time around. I shouldn't expect someone to skate into my life shortly after the Navy bus carried Free out of my life.

I wasn't stupid. I had Skip. From time to time a guy surfed into my life for an afternoon and made a nice day better. I had no requirements or anything a lover had to be except for being nice to see and capable of showing affection.

Sitting there on that patch of grass, I intended to see what I could see. I expected nothing the first time I declared I was back in circulation from any skater who happened by before I headed home for dinner.

Love wasn't just going to walk into my life. I expected it to take time, and it was time I got busy looking. I might already know a skater I could love. I hadn't been here all that long when I met Free. There were skaters I hadn't seen before I tied myself down to one boy. I loved loving Free and there might be another skater who fit the bill.

When boys skated by, I smiled and looked available. I got a few nods and one smile, but no one stopped to talk today, and I wanted to go home to get dinner. I wasn't going to expect a lot to happen right away, but maybe John, Ace, or one of the homeless skaters might stop. They usually had time on their hands.

My thoughts ran along the same lines as I waited.

Skip was in love with a guy who he hadn't seen since high school. I was in love with a boy who I'd seen twice, skating in the same storm drains. Life was weird that way. Wishful thinking wasn't always a waste of time. The memory of the boy in the storm drain was nice. I'm glad I remembered that boy.

I knew a hot looking guy when I saw one. I was keeping my eyes open. The boy from the storm drain was out here somewhere. I'd seen him twice. He just might skate by my patch of grass, and I'd know him when I saw him.

Back home, I felt like sex should be connected to love, when I didn't know anything. No one seemed to know how to get both at the same time. At least the boys I knew were complaining about not finding either, connected or not.

At least back home, my friends admitted they didn't know any more than I knew, and they weren't doing any better than I was as far as love was concerned. Our age no doubt had something to do with it, because as I got older, I felt like I had a better grasp of things, but love was elusive at home and out here.

I guess if finding lovers was easy, everyone would have a couple.

California is full of beautiful boys, and many can be had on a temporary basis if you catch one at the right time. The boys out here had ways of showing off that got my attention. They got to pick who to go off with and how far they want to go.

Eddie and Brad came past on their boards, heading for the mall. Eddie nodded and Brad said, "Hey, Z," but they kept moving.

With it closing in on evening, the bugs were a bit thicker, and a nice cool breeze was coming out of the northeast.

Weather had been good. Days were nice, nights were nicer. The skaters I knew trickled past. I smiled they smiled.

"Where you been, Z?" Steve said.