TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER 1: FROM SNOW TO SAND

  CHAPTER 2: A NEW HOME

  CHAPTER 3: HITTING THE BEACH

  CHAPTER 4: TO NEW BEGINNINGS

  CHAPTER 5: UNWELCOME

  CHAPTER 6: BEACH BULLY STRIKES AGAIN

  CHAPTER 7: THROWING IN THE TOWEL

  CHAPTER 8: DOOMED

  CHAPTER 9: HANGING TEN

  Author Bio

  Illustrator Bio

  Glossary

  Discussion Questions

  Writing Prompts

  Quick Facts About Surfing

  Copyright

  Back Cover

  CHAPTER 1

  FROM SNOW TO SAND

  “It looks small,” Isaac Davis complained as his family’s car pulled up in front of a little red house.

  “It doesn’t need to be big,” his dad replied. “It’s just the three of us. We don’t need that much space.”

  “And it’s cute!” his mom added. “The neighborhood is great, and the best part is we’re only a block and half from the beach.”

  “The ocean, Isaac,” his dad said. “Just think about it! You’re steps from the ocean!”

  Dad took a deep breath of the salty ocean breeze through the car’s open window. “Ahh! I’ve missed it so much,” he said.

  Isaac rolled his eyes and grabbed his duffel off the seat next to him. He climbed out of the car and stood staring at his new home.

  It was tiny, probably less than half the size of the house they’d lived in up north. Their old home had been built into the side of a mountain and was surrounded by tall pine trees. The old house had three fireplaces and a screening room in the basement for watching movies. Best of all, it had direct access to one of the best downhill ski and snowboard trails in the state.

  Snowboarding here? Isaac thought. It’s never going to happen.

  Isaac shouldered his duffel and looked back at his snowboard, still strapped to the roof of Dad’s car.

  I’ll never use it again, he thought. Might as well leave it there.

  CHAPTER 2

  A NEW HOME

  Isaac sat on the front porch of the new house and looked around the yard. Or what there was of it anyway.

  Unlike his old house, which had been surrounded by open space, the new house sat right on the street. There was no front yard to play in — just a tiny porch and the sidewalk. Mom had set up a few potted plants in front of the window, but they didn’t make the house feel more like home.

  Down the street, Isaac could see the top of a little sand dune on the far side of a narrow boardwalk. He could hear seagulls cawing as they circled overhead. Barges and steamships sounded horns and bells as they sailed into the harbor.

  Above all the other noises, Isaac could hear voices shouting and laughing. They sounded like boys his age.

  “Mom!” Isaac called through the open front window. “I’m going to walk down to the beach.”

  “Don’t be gone too long,” his mom called back. “The moving truck will be here soon. I’m going to need your help with the unloading and unpacking.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Isaac muttered as he stood up and headed for the beach.

  Isaac strolled down the street. The rest of their new block was filled with rows of tiny houses. They were all brightly colored and crammed tightly together like books on a bookshelf. Some were red, others were bright blue or yellow.

  There were a few houses painted a dismal deep gray, or a soft slate gray. The colors reminded Isaac of the sky over the mountain back home right before a winter storm rolled in.

  Back home, Isaac thought miserably. Not home anymore.

  Isaac walked across the boardwalk and stood on the far edge, staring down at the water below. From there, he could see north to where the harbor opened up into the Pacific Ocean. That’s where the voices had come from.

  Isaac shielded his eyes. He could see the boys he’d heard from his porch. They were walking toward the real beach, where ten-foot high waves crashed onto the sand. On their heads and under their arms, the boys toted boards with fins. Not snowboards, of course — surfboards.

  CHAPTER 3

  HITTING THE BEACH

  Isaac took a seat at the top of the dune and watched as the boys got ready to surf. There were about ten boys his age down there. They all wore long board shorts in bright colors and patterns.

  Most of the boys sat on the sand close to the water, talking and goofing around. But every few minutes, a small group would paddle out into the ocean and try to catch a wave.

  The tallest boy in the group was obviously the best surfer. Even though all the other boys took breaks, he was in the water anytime a group paddled out to wait for a good wave.

  Isaac watched as the tall boy lay flat on his board and paddled out farther than the others. When a couple of boys grabbed a wave to ride to the beach, he waited for a bigger one. Finally the perfect wave appeared, and the boy started paddling forward.

  Isaac knew snowboarding. If the wave had been a downhill run on the mountain back home, he’d have known how to judge if was a tough and exciting ride, or an easy boring one. But he knew nothing about surfing. To Isaac, all the waves looked the same — huge and terrifying.

  This boy wasn’t scared, though. The wave swelled up over his head, threatening to crash down on him at any moment as he raced toward the sand.

  The boy surfed up the underbelly of the wave, then zipped back toward the ocean floor as the water curled over his head. The foamy crest of the wave reminded Isaac of the snow sliding off the roof of his old home.

  Then the curl of the wave started to tighten, and the tall boy on the board had to duck. But he still managed to stay on his feet, crouching low and zipping up and down the wave.

  Then, just before the wave collapsed on him, the boy pointed the nose of his board toward the beach and coasted in.

  His friends cheered and clapped as the boy hit the beach. He took it in with a smile. Then he spotted Isaac sitting at the top of the dune.

  The boy pointed at him, and the others looked up too. The group turned and started walking up the dune toward him. Isaac got to his feet.

  “What’s up?” said the tall boy.

  “Nothing,” Isaac replied. He felt out of place here. Back home, he would have fit in just fine. But here at the beach, with everyone else in shorts and bathing suits, it was weird to be wearing jeans and a black T-shirt.

  “What are you doing here? You’re not a local,” one of the other boys said, scowling at Isaac.

  “I am now,” Isaac said. “My family and I just moved in up the boardwalk. I’m Isaac.”

  A third boy with shaggy red hair and freckles grinned at him. “I’m Steve,” he said. He pointed at the tall boy. “And the show-off over there is Jackson. Where did you move from?”

  “Up north,” Isaac started to say. “I’m from —”

  “Canada?” Jackson interrupted sarcastically.

  The other boys all started cracking up.

  “No,” Isaac said, but he felt his face turning red.

  “Because you sound like you’re from Canada,” Jackson said. “Do you know how funny you sound when you talk?”

  Isaac shrugged. “I didn’t notice,” he said. He hesitated for a moment. “Well, I have to help my parents finish unloading the moving truck. I should probably head home.”

  “Home?” Jackson repeated with a laugh. “I can hardly understand your accent. How do you say it?”

  “Home?” Isaac repeated. He didn’t get what was so funny. It sounded normal to him.

  But the other guys laughed and laughed. Finally Isaac just turned around and walked off.

  “Can’t you take a joke, new kid?” Jackson shouted after him. “Relax, dude. We’ll let you know when we start a hockey team, eh?”

  As he reached the boardwalk, Isaac could still hear the boys laughing and copying his accent. The sound of their voices carried a little too well on the water.

  CHAPTER 4

  TO NEW BEGINNINGS

  By the time the moving van was unloaded, Isaac and his parents were exhausted and sweaty. Dad checked online and found a taco place near their house that would deliver.

  Most of their stuff was still in boxes or pieces, so the family sat cross-legged on a blanket on the floor to eat dinner.

  Dad raised his drink and made a toast. “To new beginnings,” he said.

  He and Mom clinked their cans together happily, but Isaac just stared down at his half-eaten taco. It was filled with weird stuff like fish and cabbage. Back home, it would have been filled with ground beef and grated cheese.

  One more thing I have to get used to, Isaac thought.

  “Is something wrong, Isaac?” Mom said. “You look upset.”

  “What is it, kid?” Dad said.

  Isaac picked up his can of pop and stared at the light reflecting off its top. “I want to get a surfboard,” he said.

  Dad raised his eyebrows, and Mom looked at him with a confused smile.

  “A surfboard, huh?” Dad said.

  “Well, I can’t snowboard here,” Isaac said.

  “That’s not true,” Dad said. “There are plenty of mountains within an hour of here.”

  “Come on, Dad,” Isaac said. “Those aren’t mountains.”

  Mom laughed. “All right,” she said. “So you want to try surfing. It’s the thing to do around here. Why not?”

  Dad looked at her and frowned. “Just like that?” he said. “You want to just give him a free surfboard?”

  Mom put a hand on Isaac� ��s shoulder and looked at Dad. “This move has been hard on Isaac,” she said. “I think we should at least give him this. Maybe it’ll help him make some new friends.”

  Dad sighed and smiled. “You’re right,” he said. “Okay, surfboard it is. You’ll be riding those waves in no time, Isaac.”

  Isaac laughed. “I hope you’re right,” he said.

  Dad held up his can of pop again. “To new beginnings,” he said, “and new boards.” And this time, Isaac clinked his can too.

  CHAPTER 5

  UNWELCOME

  First thing the next morning, Isaac convinced his parents to buy him some board shorts. It was pretty clear he couldn’t surf in his jeans or snowboard gear. They headed to a local surf shop nearby and bought the gear he’d need.

  After he promised to help with unpacking later, Isaac picked out a blue wetsuit. Then he grabbed his new board and headed down to the beach.

  The other boys were already there, in the same spot as the day before. When Steve spotted Isaac, he elbowed the boy closest to him and muttered something under his breath. They both turned to stare at Isaac.

  Isaac couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could tell from their faces that they weren’t happy to see him. He kept walking along the beach until he reached the lifeguard tower. There, he dropped his towel, changed his shoes, and walked toward the water with his board under his arm.

  He could feel the group of local boys watching him. He did his best to copy what he’d seen them do the day before. He walked out into the water, put his new surfboard in front of him, and climbed on, lying down on his belly.

  The moment he did, though, he slid off the back of the board and straight into the water. He came up coughing water and feeling embarrassed. He heard laughter from down the beach.

  Isaac gritted his teeth and climbed back onto the board — or at least he tried to. No matter what he did, he slipped back off the board and fell into the water.

  “Hey, kid,” the lifeguard called from his tall chair. “You got any wax on that board at all, or what?”

  The local boys down the beach went crazy with laughter.

  Isaac walked awkwardly out of the water, carrying his board in both hands. He hefted the board as calmly as he could. He started to walk past the local boys.

  Jackson wasn’t letting it go, though. “Hey,” he called out, jogging up from the surf toward the top of the dunes. “Wait a second.”

  “What?” Isaac said. He stopped walking but didn’t look up at Jackson.

  “Where are you from?” Jackson asked quietly. It was just the two of them this time, and Jackson didn’t smile.

  “Big Sky,” Isaac muttered. “It’s in Montana.”

  “I figured,” Jackson said. “You ski up there?”

  “Snowboard,” Isaac said.

  Jackson shook his head. “And you figured you could pick up surfing just like that, huh?” he snapped.

  Isaac shrugged.

  “Well, let me clue you in on something, clueless,” Jackson said. He leaned down a little, his face only inches from Isaac’s. “This is my beach. And I don’t want some Canadian wannabe who can’t even wax his own surfboard hanging around and looking like a dork. Got it?”

  Isaac stared down at his feet. He realized he’d forgotten his towel and sandals in his rush to get out of there.

  “I’m talking to you,” Jackson said. “Got it?”

  Isaac didn’t answer. He didn’t even nod.

  Jackson reached out and shoved Isaac’s shoulders with both hands, knocking him backward. Isaac struggled to stand, and the tail of his board dropped to the sand.

  “Now take off, okay?” Jackson said. “And don’t come back. Remember what I said. My beach.”

  Jackson strolled back toward the water, where his friends stood waiting for him with their boards. They’d all seen the whole thing.

  Isaac dropped his board onto the dune and went back to collect his towel and sandals. He didn’t want to face the other kids, but he knew he couldn’t just leave his things lying there.

  Then I’d have to explain why I left them, he thought.

  When he reached the lifeguard tower, Isaac looked up at the lifeguard. “You could have helped me, you know,” Isaac said with a scowl.

  The lifeguard, who looked like he was probably still in high school, looked down from his giant chair. “Seriously?” he said. “Toughen up, bro, or you’ll never make it on these beaches.”

  Fine, Isaac thought as he grabbed his things and hurried back to pick up his board. Then that’s what I’ll do.

  CHAPTER 6

  BEACH BULLY STRIKES AGAIN

  That night, Isaac and his dad headed back to the surf shop for a wax kit. Then they checked the Internet for tips on how to wax a board.

  “So first we apply the basecoat,” Dad said, squinting at the screen of the laptop computer through his reading glasses. “That’ll make it bumpy.”

  “So I won’t slide off of it every five seconds,” Isaac added.

  They headed out to the back deck. They set Isaac’s board on the deck, with its fin hanging off the edge, and started rubbing the wax on.

  It was hard work. The basecoat wax, which was meant to last for at least a year, took lots of strength to put on. By the time the coat was bumpy enough that Isaac’s feet could get a grip, it was time to eat dinner.

  “Come on in, you two,” Mom called out the back door to Isaac and Dad. “I’ve used the new kitchen and boiled some spaghetti. We might as well use the dining room table, too.”

  “We’ll do the topcoat before you go to bed,” Dad said, putting his arm around Isaac’s shoulders.

  “Okay,” Isaac agreed as they headed inside.

  * * *

  The next morning, Isaac was up with the sun. He wanted to get to the beach and try out his freshly waxed board. More importantly, he wanted to get there before Jackson and his friends showed up.

  Dad had kept his word the night before, and they’d put the topcoat on the surfboard after dinner. The sticky topcoat, which helped a surfer stay on his feet, had been much easier to apply than the tough basecoat.

  As Isaac walked along the boardwalk toward the beach, he could feel the sticky wax against his side. The smell of coconut filled the air.

  Isaac smiled as he caught sight of the empty beach beyond the harbor. The local boys weren’t there yet.

  I can get out on the water and practice without them watching, Isaac thought with relief. Maybe I won’t look like a dope this time.

  Isaac hung his towel from the bottom rung of the lifeguard’s ladder. The chair was empty this morning.

  I guess the lifeguard isn’t even up this early, Isaac thought as he kicked off his sandals and headed for the water.

  This time, Isaac had no trouble getting onto the board and staying on his stomach. He paddled through the waves near the sand, though they tried to push him back. It was hard work to get out far enough that standing up would seem worth the trouble.

  Isaac decided to try a small wave first — one that wouldn’t curl up over his head and crash him into the sand face-first.

  He faced toward the beach like he’d seen the other boys do and turned his head to look for waves approaching behind him. When a small hump came toward him, Isaac startled paddling and pushed himself onto his knees, and then to his feet. Somehow, it worked. He was standing.

  Isaac grinned and struggled to keep his balance as the surfboard rolled along the gentle wave toward the sand. But staying on his feet was harder than he expected.

  After just a couple of seconds, the board shot up in front of him, and Isaac tumbled backward. His arms waved in crazy circles, and he landed hard on his back in a foot of salty surf.

  Isaac sat up in the shallow water and coughed. He rubbed his eyes, which burned with the salt and grit of the ocean. When he opened them, he saw a figure running across the beach toward him. He squinted and realized that it was the lifeguard, in his red and white shorts.

  “You okay, newbie?” the lifeguard called to him.

 

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