Happy Halloween! Ever wonder what’s on the mind of your favorite celebrity on this spooktacular day? Find out in today’s special edition of “They Said WHAT?!?”:
“All surfers are gamblers. They’ll risk everything—their job, their relationship, their life—all for a shot at riding that perfect wave. And even when it finally comes along—the one at Encinitas with the never-ending barrel, that monster fifteen-footer last winter that could’ve killed you, the one at Zuma you’ll tell your buddies about for years—some part of that wave stays with you. The water gets in your ears, mutes the rest of the world. And all you can hear is the sound of that perfect wave, crashing over and over again in your head—taunting you to find it again. Liam saw the outside before anyone else. Dang, it was fast. He barely had time to whip his board around before it was already on his heels. He paddled ferociously, his arms slicing through the water like oars on a Viking ship. ‘Come on… come on…’ He felt the wave lift the back of his board. It had him. No. He had it. He stood up and carved down the face of the wave, the barrel curling around him. Sheltering him. He could live in here, he thought. Just enough room for a twin bed. Cheap rent too. And how about that view? The sparkling sea, palm trees arching on the shore, some old man in an innertube—SPLASH! Five seconds later, he emerged from the whitewater and turned on the leathery old man who had ruined the best ride he’d had all day. ‘What the heck, dude?’ The old timer just looked at him quizzically and floated away. Up on the shore, Cory had stopped filming and was laughing his butt off. Liam rolled his eyes, got on his board, and paddled in, swerving to avoid all the swimmers, body-surfers, boogie-boarders, and other non-surfers. ‘Dude,’ said Liam, walking up to Cory, ‘What’s with all the people?’ ‘It’s that new road off Laguna, bro,’ said Cory, reviewing footage of Liam’s ride on his DSLR. ‘Spot’s blown, man. RIP.’ Liam looked out across the beach. He was right. The spot was blown. The perfectly neglected tail end of Vasquez Beach had been ruined by the masses. ‘Well, did you at least get that last one on tape?’ asked Liam. ‘I need more barrels for the reel. That’s all the sponsors care about.’ Cory laughed. ‘Oh, you mean that old guy in an innertube totally dropping in on you? Yeah, bro, don’t worry. I got it all.’ Liam punched him in the arm. ‘It’s not funny, Cory. This is my shot at a real sponsorship. I need more footage if I’m gonna stand out. Where else can we go?’ Cory thought for a second, then grinned. ‘I know a spot…’. Next thing Liam knew, they were pulling up to a fence topped with barbed wire at the end of Calle Brando. ‘This is the spot?’ asked Liam, incredulously. ‘Come on,’ said Cory, ‘There’s a hole in here somewhere…’ They found the hole, climbed through the fence and walked down the trail past the brush. Soon, Liam found himself staring at the most perfect break he’d ever seen in his life. Wave after wave rolled in, each one more beautiful than the last. He was pissed. ‘How the heck have you never told me about this spot?’ he said, glaring at Cory. ‘You’re not a local, bro,’ said Cory, feeling a little guilty. ‘Am too,’ Liam retorted. ‘Nah, man,’ said Cory, ‘I mean, like, local local. It’s like a code, you know?’ Liam looked down at the sand. Sure, he was born in Seattle. But he’d moved to the bay when he was six. And he was easily the best surfer in town. Scouts for multiple surf brands had asked him to submit footage for potential sponsorship after a recent competition win. How could anybody—his best friend no less—still think he wasn’t a local? ‘I can’t believe you held out on this secret spot until now,’ said Liam. ‘Dude, can you relax,’ said Cory. ‘I’m literally telling you about it now. Because I know this reel is important to you.’ Liam softened. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Is this where the old pier used to be?’ ‘Yep,’ said Cory, mischievously. ‘Hurricane Bryce did a number on it. But some die-hards still surf it. I hear the busted pylons make the break pretty dope.’ Liam smiled. ‘Let’s do it.’ And that’s exactly what he did. The first ride Liam caught was the best he’d ever had. He tore it up, his board moving across the water like a hockey puck on ice. It was pure, liquid heaven. And Cory was getting it all in high definition with his DSLR. Liam felt invincible. Like the only thing in the entire world that existed was him, his board, and the water that seemed to cradle him like a newborn infant. WHAM! Next thing Liam knew he was ten feet underwater, bleeding from his head. He didn’t understand what had happened. Maybe an outside he hadn’t seen? Suddenly, he saw something move between the forest of broken pylons nearby. It was long. And dark. And fast. He breached the surface. ‘You good, dude?’ Cory yelled from the shore. He flashed him the ‘OK’ sign. He’d wiped out before way worse than this. And he wasn’t ready to call it a day on the greatest break he’d ever seen in his life. Sure enough, the next wave was even more beautiful than the last. A twenty-footer, at least. Riding big waves could feel like a battle sometimes. But this felt like sliding down a mountain of butter. He could hear Cory cheering on the shore as he got tubed, the water forming a cocoon around him. Eat your heart out, sponsors. ‘OUT OF THE WAY!’ Suddenly, a surfer on a long board sliced down the face of the wave, knocking him off his board. He went through the washing machine this time, cutting his arm on a busted pylon. He breached the surface and coughed up seawater. ‘Dude, what happened?’ Cory shouted from the shore. ‘You were crushing it and then, like, you weren’t.’ ‘Some guy dropped in on me!’ Liam shouted. ‘There’s nobody here, dude,’ said Cory. Liam looked around. Cory was right. There was no one for miles. ‘I swear, there was this other guy… a long boarder—’ but Cory cut him off. ‘OUTSIDE!’ Liam turned around and saw the wave. It was twice the size of the last one. He’d only surfed waves like this on the Big Island and never without a tow-in. He had to paddle up and over it fast or it would slam him down onto one of the deadly pylons lurking just below the surface. Wiping the blood out of his eyes, he raced up the approaching wave. ‘Come on… come on…’ he said under his breath, his arms working harder than they ever had before to propel him upwards towards safety. He crested the wave just in time, and slid down its back as it demolished the shoreline. He couldn’t help but laugh. The absurdity of how close he’d come to losing that gamble every surfer makes. How close he’d come to dying. ‘Did you get that, Cory?’ He shouted towards the beach. But Cory wasn’t there. Where was he? Liam started paddling in. Then he saw something bob to the surface in the frothy whitewater of the wave’s wreckage—Cory’s DSLR. ‘Cory!’ He shouted. Liam looked around, frantically searching for any sign of his friend. He jumped off his board and dove underwater. There! Liam could just make him out in the murky depths, clinging to a pylon. He swam down to help him. But he couldn’t pull him to the surface. Then he realized what it was. Cory wasn’t clinging to the pylon. He was stuck on it. Impaled straight through the gut. Liam was swimming in his blood. He screamed, bubbles erupting from his mouth. Suddenly, he remembered his own survival and shot to the surface, gasping for air. ‘Help!’ he shouted, knowing no one was there. Then he saw something. Someone on a long board. Heading towards him to catch a ride. ‘Please, help! My friend… there’s been…’ but he was too tired. He couldn’t get the words out. As the long boarder got closer, Liam saw that there was something off about him. There were holes in his wetsuit. Wait… not just his wetsuit… but his actual skin! Holes where his flesh appeared to have rotted away, the little that was left barely tethered to his bones. Holes through which water sloshed, and the sunset behind him glowed a malevolent red. He smiled horribly as he caught his ride. ‘Locals… only…’ he roared as he dropped in down the face of the wave, the nose of his board slicing through the water… and straight through Liam’s neck.”
—J. Cole
On the scariest story he has ever heard
