The Fool on the Hill in a Convertible

Chapter 1

Let me introduce myself. My name is Torrey and I’m almost twenty-four. I love music, especially The Beatles. I can’t get enough of their latest album — Magical Mystery Tour. I also love taking pictures. My camera kind of hangs around on me like an extra limb or a favorite piece of jewelry I never take off. Someday it would be great to have my own darkroom and photography studio and do nothing but take pictures. But first things first. I’ve got to get my own apartment. I love my family, but I got used to living on my own for a couple of years up in Barstow. I’ve been back here in Mission Cove for two months. Something sad happened to me, so I needed to regroup and spend time with my family. I’m feeling a little better now, though, and ready to get back into adult life.

But I’ve got to earn enough money for that — first and last month’s rent, utility deposits, stuff like that. I haven’t been able to find a roommate to share all the costs with me. While I was out of town, my girlfriends moved on with their lives. Laurel is engaged and getting married soon. Some of my friends are away at college. So that’s why I’m working a couple of part-time jobs and making do with a sort-of-cruddy secondhand Minolta.

Anyway, it all started one afternoon in December…

Have you ever been to Sunset Cliffs? It’s a gorgeous spot of California coastline on the Point Loma peninsula in San Diego. The Pacific Ocean stretches out before you in all its glory, and behind you there’s a hill studded with homes whose lucky owners have million-dollar views.

From the top of the hill, you can look down on the other side to San Diego Harbor, the airport, and the city skyline, such as it is. We’re trying to be a first-class city, but our skyline isn’t much. It seems like every week another beautiful old building is torn down to make room for something tall and modern. Maybe in twenty or thirty years we’ll have a more impressive skyline.

But back to the Cliffs — that’s what we locals call this bit of coastline. On that day, my brother, Tobin — he’s a year younger than me — was out surfing. I was taking shots of him from the steep metal steps at the foot of Ladera Street. Those are some crazy stairs that lead straight down the face of the cliffs. I mean straight down. And steep. Anyway, I was kind of hanging onto the railing by the crook of my arm to steady my camera. The wind was coming up the cliff, off the sea. Salty mist stung my nose. I zipped up my sweatshirt a little tighter. It’s freezing out there this time of year, probably 60 degrees.

The guys were way out in the water, sitting on their surfboards. Waiting. They’re wearing their full winter wet suits, covered from their ankles to their wrists. They almost blended in with the deep blue ocean, except for their colorful boards. You had to wonder what they were doing so far out there. And then the swells started coming in. Winter storms, somewhere way out in the west or northwest, blow against the top of the ocean and create those swells. As they approach the shore, the water compresses, resulting in waves. And these were some beautiful waves, long and nicely shaped. The surfers were having a blast. The waves crashed, the seagulls called. I got some good shots.

Next winter my goal is to join those surfers. I’m kind of a wimp when it comes to sports. Surfing takes a ton of upper-body strength. First, you have to be able to carry the big boards up and down cliffs. But it’s the paddling out against the waves that gets me. I’ve been lifting weights, trying to build up my shoulders. I’d like to get into surfing like my dad and bro. And my female surfing idol, Margo Godfrey. She really rips up the waves. When I moved away from here, all the boards were longboards. Huge. Nine- to twelve-feet tall. Monsters. Super heavy. But just recently there’s been a revolution in board sizes. Shortboards are coming in, and they should be a lot easier for me to handle. They get down to six or seven feet, so they’re that much lighter, too.

Our family owns a surf shop over in Mission Cove, a few miles up the coast from Sunset Cliffs. My dad runs the shop. He’s a good guy, pretty mellow most of the time. He’s been a single dad since our mom died when my brother and I were little. My aunt Jean moved in to help. She’s ten years older than my dad and kind of ditzy, but I love her.

I help out in the shop, but they can’t afford to pay me much, so that’s why I have another part-time job at a property management office. I also shoot surf photos to sell in the shop for a little extra income. We use them to advertise the store, too.

Tobin is a lifeguard for the city. He’s just getting started with that, and it’s not an easy job.

It was going to be dark soon. The sun sets early in December — around 4:45pm. The surfers would be coming out of the water soon, and I was ready to get home and warm up.

I powered up the stairs and hopped into my little red VW Bug. She’s a sweet old thing. Kinda beat-up around the edges and her paint’s dull now, but I can always count on her to run. As soon as I put in the key and turned it, the radio blared Daydream Believer by the Monkees. I keep it on high volume. The Monkees are a controversial group. They have a huge fan base, though some people say they aren’t a real group, just some Hollywood creation. I punched the radio’s buttons. I’ve got them set for KGB and KCBQ, the two top-forty stations in our town. The other station was playing Incense and Peppermints, a trippy song by Strawberry Alarm Clock. I u-turned the car and headed down Sunset Cliffs Boulevard.

I couldn’t help admiring the setting sun. November and December are the best months for sunsets. The sun is low on the horizon. If there’s a bit of moisture in the air, clouds form to reflect and fire up that setting sun. This was shaping up to be a burner of a sunset.

Ahead of me, in one of the small pull-out parking lots at the edge of the cliffs, I saw the cutest little car. A shiny little red sports car. Probably some foreign make, I don’t know, but it was adorable. The sun setting behind it cast long shadows and made the car seem to glow. I had to stop and get a picture, so I jammed on my brakes, grabbed my camera bag, and popped out. No one else around. I squatted down by the front of the car, focused my camera, and shot several views. Then I moved around to the other end to get a different angle, the outline of the car against the sun. I pressed the shutter and took a couple of pictures, but then my camera froze and I stood up to fiddle with it. It acts up occasionally, but I can usually get it going again with some skilled tinkering. It whirred back to life. Whew! I needed to get this baby to the shop soon.

I noticed motion from the corner of my eye, so I glanced over toward the edge of the cliffs. The sun was glaring, but it looked like there was a girl over there. I could only see her silhouette. Her long hair blew in the wind, and she had on a really short skirt. Something white flashed at her feet. I couldn’t tell for sure, with the sun in my eyes, but was she really wearing high heels at the edge of the cliffs? Good grief. Didn’t she know people fell off those cliffs all the time?

Be careful! I yelled. Those cliffs are dangerous!

She must have heard me, because she waved, as if to say, Don’t worry. But she stayed right where she was.

I shook my head and climbed back into my Bug, still feeling irritated as I drove away. I jabbed the radio buttons and To Sir, With Love by Lulu came on. The ballad was soothing and made me relax a little.

As I wove through the streets of Ocean Beach, heading north, I thought about the scene at the cliffs. Why did it aggravate me so much? It was obvious the girl had stepped over the guardrail to the very edge of the cliffs. Signs were posted all over the place, warning of the danger. She had to have seen them.

But there was something else, too. When people do risky things, it puts guys like my brother in danger, too. Don’t get me wrong. Lifeguards love their jobs. The more exciting, the better for them. But the guards are the ones who are called to rescue stupid people who fall off the cliffs. And Tobin had the Sunset Cliff’s duty. Careless tourists like them make his job more difficult. He wasn’t on duty that afternoon, but he would be the next day.

I have to do whatever I can to keep my little brother safe. I wasn’t able to protect my best friend, and I’ll never forgive myself for that.

I sighed. There are some things you can’t fix, no matter how many tears you cry. And losing my fiancé was one of those things.

I let my mind wander to memories of his big smile and too-neat crew cut. He had been both embarrassed and proud when he got his hair cut short for the Army. I loved to run my hand over the top of his head and tease him about it.

Poor Dean. I missed him so much. But I didn’t want to start crying right now while I was driving, so I shook the thoughts off.

I told myself that I was driving home from a fantastic sunset. I had a car, a home to return to, a crazy family who loved me, a beautiful town to live in. I needed to remember all of that.

Ahead, on the right side of the street, I saw the lights of a Fotomat hut. I decided to turn in my film and get it developed. Then I’d look into getting the camera fixed.

I veered my Bug into the parking lot and drove up to the window. The attendant handed me an envelope. I filled it out, popped in my roll of film, and handed it all back to her. She gave me the receipt, and off I drove into the night.

Chapter 2

Mission Cove is a dream of a place. Charming and cozy, filled with cool old houses, right on the