SATAN RIDES ALONE BY NEIL STEBBINS From The Surfers Journal CHUCK-THE-TRUCK WAS HAVING A TERRIBLE DAY. His girlfrend left him an empty closet and a note taped to the bathroom mirror.  The boss said they were "downsizing" and he might be next. His ratty SUV was making expensive noises. And some old guy in a Buick rolled into his back bumper at a stoplight then told him his son-in-law was a lawyer. Chuck-the-truck, by the way, was not huge. The moniker was less about his size and more about his can-do-attitude, his persistent willingnes to keep on truckin despite just about anything. But today he needed a respite. A time-out to step off the roller coaster for a few hours and sort things out. So he drove up the coast, his board in the back, in hopes of finding something-anything-to ride. Topanga was junk, not that he liked surfing there all that Much. Malibu was flat and blown out. Lots of room to park though, so he decided to go out. Just get wet. Feel the pull of the water against his shhoulders as he paddled to the point. Since there were no waves, he launched deep in the cove and began slogging through the chop near shore. "This suckes," he thought. My day is completely consistant. He padled with his head down, a new thought with each stroke."Maybe this is a bad idea. Maybe this will make everything worse. Maybe I could sell real estate." But after a few dozen sstrokes, the chop eased off. Not far ahead the water was glassy as a coffee table. In the distance , he saw a surfer sitting well outside as if there were waves and that was the lineup. "That's weird." As he approached the other surfer, it became clear that the guy was not your average dude."You know, I could be wrong, but that sure as hell looks like the Devil himself." Or maybe someone from Hollywood who had gone to great pains to make himself look like the devil. Red skin. Horns. Goatee. A tail with a kind of barb on the end. Nice pair of trunks with lots of silk-screened grems screaming in agony. "Probably Volcom," he thought, grasping for something familiar. Curious but wary, Chuck decided to sit close enough to talk, but nottoo close. The devil seemed not to notice and watched the horizon like any otherr surfer. Chuck was fascinated by the way the Devil's tail flicked about as if it had a mind of its own. Then he noticed that the Devil was looking at him, looking at his tail. "Sorry." The Devil nodded and said nothing. "Perfect, Chuck thought. "I've lost my mind." "In a way," said the Devil. There was a pause, Chuck not knowing what to say, or think. "Nobody in their right mind would paddle out here on a day like this, but you did." "Yeah, but its getting bigger, right ?" "No. From shore, it will contiue to look flat and blown out until Idecide to leave." "So...are there waves ?" The Devil smiled and started paddling farther out. Seeing the set, Chuck did the same. The Devil got the first one. Chuck took the third. Not big waves, maybe chest high, but clean and long, and, for Malibu.. surprisingly hollow. Chuck rejoined the devil in the lineup. "Nice! How was yours? The Devil looked at him as if studying a bug. "You're not afraid of me are you?" "Well...I guess if I was it wouldn't make much difference. And I'm having kind of a bad day.  I'd rather just have some fun if that's OK." "You don't want to ask me anything?" "Not really. maybe some other time. You mnid?" "Not at all." They sat quitely - enjoying the lull. "What kind of board is that ?" "I had Dora make it for me" "Didn't he die way back in.....? The devil smiled. "OH." Another pause. "Want to ride it?" Before he could answer, the Devil slid off the side and pushed the Dora over to Chuck. Chuck gave the Devil his own board in return. "No leash? I'd have thoght you'd be into leashes?" The Devil laughed and paddled for the next wave. "Pitchforks", he called out. "I'm really into pitchforks!" And that's how the day went. Coupla guys. Some nice waves. Nobody else out. "So why do you think she left you ?" "Aw, I don't know. I guess we weren't, you know, going anywhere." "Want me to do anything about it?" "No thanks. That's O.K. I'm probably better off." "You're a strange guy, Chuck." "Look who's talking. At least I don't have a tail." "No, I mean most people would jump at the chance for me to do favors for them." "Yeah and lose their souls for all eternity!" "Well, there is that. Still... most people don't think that far ahead." A small wave appeared and they both rode it. Sort of cat-and-mouse. The Devil enjoying Chuck enjoying the Dora. Back in the lineup again Chuck asked, "You ever hang out with God?" "The Lord God Almighty, Creator of the Universe, Protector of the Faith, That God?" "Yup" "Ask him yourself. That's Him paddling out." The Devil swing around and stroked for a wave up the point a bit. Chuck just sat and watched a guy way inside paddle towards him with a big smile on his face and a nice kind of glow surrounding his board. "Well, shit !" thought Chuck. "Now I won't get any waves." There was a tapping on the window followed by a not-so-happy female voice. "Hey! Buddy! Wake up ! You can't sleep here !" Chuck woke up groggily, turned the key and put the window down. "Huh?" "You're parked halfway in the red, it's three in the morning, and you got a busted taillight. This ain't no campground and.... say..... is that a Dora ?" The cop was shining her light on the board in the back of the car. "Damn. It looks brand new ! Who's making Dora's these days ? Mind if I take a look ?" Chuck got out of the car and opened the hatch. In the spotlight of the cruiser, the board gleamed like Temptation itself. Chuck slid it out and handed it to her. The cop took the board and smiled like a kid. "Wow. I don't suppose you'd want to sell it ?" "I don't know," said Chuck. "What've you got ?" "Hey, I'd sell my soul for a board like this. What did you do to get it ?" Chuck thought about that. "Well, here," she said, carefully handing the board back. "You might want to move along. Not all the cops surf, you know. Maybe there'll be some waves tomorrow.  God willing..." "Actually, there won't, " said chuck. "At least, that's what God told me." A pause. Then they both laughed. "Good friend of your then?" "Yeah, Him and the Devil. We surf together all the time. God's a goofy foot!" The cop looked at the Dora and then again at Chuck. She was really quite pretty when she wasn't being all cop-like. "Well, give my best to both of them." "Happy to," said Chuck. We're going to Rincon on Sunday. You oughta come, I'll let you ride the Dora !" "Maybe I will, " said the cop, smiling as she left. "Dan right she will," thought Chuck. He didn't give God that set wave for nothing.