Ocean Beach in San Francisco has been decimated by erosion. Sand
dunes turn to sheer drop offs. Locals go crazy, as the beach gets
closed off to the public. That's when the Sunsetters emerge, to
fight City Council to preserve their sacred playground. Follow a
grief-stricken surfer in his fight to avenge his dying surfspot and
make peace with his brother's untimely death from cancer. "I
started having my nightmares again. The cruel scepter of the
dreamworld gone sour punished my attempts to slumber. I had the one
about Andy. We are young in it. We are both standing on the beach
in Alabama somewhere. Darkness rolls over us as we shiver from
having no shirts just shorts. We run over the dunes to find our
path blocked by rising water. It crawls towards us as we turn back
towards the ocean. There is an eclipse. The sun lies behind the
moon in exact blackness outlined only by shadow. We are out of
breath. We near the shore and see a sailboat in the distance. We
wave and jump in hopes they will rescue us from the flood. They
head out to sea and disappear as the rain falls harder. Andy is
panicking. I tell him to relax. We just need a way out. The waves
grow bigger as the eye of the storm spins over our heads. Andy
screams at me for directions. Where do we go? What do we do? I look
down at my feet. They are bleeding. We are standing on oyster beds.
We are in blood drenched knee deep water. The sharks circle.The
wind howls. Waves are hitting my chest now. I struggle to move but
fall to my knees. My back is to the ocean. I turn and see Andy. A
giant wave consumes us. It rises quickly to great heights before
crashing with back breaking force. I feel myself go under. I cannot
find up. I swim for what feels like hours before reaching the
surface. I blackout like the sun. I wake up on the beach. The good
news is Andy is laid out facing away from me a few feet away. I
rush over calling his name and hear nothing. I yank him over. He's
dead. His face is colored the death shade blue. A gentle foam seeps
from his mouth. I call out for help. I try to breath life back into
him. I run for the dunes screaming for anyone. I round the top of
the first dune after slipping up its face. I gasp for air. The land
is gone. I am on an island of despair. Everything around me is
underwater. I rush back to find Andy. He is gone. I see more waves
coming. I bury my face in my hands in desperate prayer. They crash
into me anyway. I usually wake up flailing and moaning. I was
shackled to misery. It wore a filthy ring around my neck. I
scrubbed around the chains instead of shrugging them off. I let
that yoke of pain cripple me. I bore that burden once before. It
was put on me the day God took Andy away. Andy started coughing. He
didn't stop until his last breath left his body. There was nothing
I could do to give it back. He was taken from me. My parents
adopted him to upstage me, their star disappointment. They tried to
drive wedges between us but we were inseparable. Every time we went
to Panama City we rented surf boards. Andy was a natural. I
struggled to keep up. I never thought those golden days would end.
My memories of the waves and sunsets we shared power me through the
tough times. They take something out of me when I picture his face.
He was just a kid. Cancer didn't care. The surfing I found at Ocean
Beach saved my life. I knew I owed this place everything for giving
me those magical rides. I look for Andy out there when the tide is
high. I feel him pass me by when I'm on a long ride and the sun is
shining. I try to remind myself we will surf again one day. I try
to imagine the shores up there where he rides. I hope they are
gentle and steep. Andy liked the fast drops. I pray they cradle
him. I know he's waiting for me up there. Sometimes I see him with
his back to me, facing the water. I call his name. He waves and
gets on his board. He paddles away and the sun takes him back. I
chase after him but he laughs and tells me "Someday, bro...Someday.
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