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There are two sides to every story...and sometimes even more. Tank, Lani, and Mikey tell their tale of how Cody Maverick came to enter the big surf competition. Join Mikey as he explains finding Cody in Antarctica, hear Lani share her story of how she met Cody at the beach, and laugh as Tank recounts the details of the big surf-off!
Surf's Up: The Unauthorized Biography
In the Beginning . . . It was Me!
Don't let anyone tell you differently. Cody Maverick was discovered by me: Mikey Abromowitz, talent scout extraordinaire. I travel all around the world. I find the penguins. I find the talent for the Big Z Memorial Surf-Off. Reggie Belafonte thinks it's him, but he just takes all the credit. Reggie drives me crazy. I am on soooo much migraine medication because of him.
Anyway, back to the kid. On one particular, sub-zero day in Antarctica, I had taken a whale ride to try and find new talent. Eventually, I found myself freezing my wings off in the town of Shiverpool. This chicken—he went by Chicken Joe—I had picked up in Sheboygan minded the whale while I went ashore.
"Excuse me? Does anybody in this entire frozen wasteland surf?" I asked the crowd of penguins.
"The Cody Maverick kid does that," one old geezer penguin replied.
I continued on through the crowd asking around for the kid.
"I'm Cody Maverick," someone finally said.
As soon as I introduced myself, the kid seemed to lose all of his language skills.
"Oh! I can't—you came here on a whale—you came to see me? Wow!" The words tumbled out of Cody's mouth as he shook my hand.
"So, I hear you surf," I said. "Is this true?"
The kid's eyes seemed to widen more than I thought possible. "You've got to see what I can do," he said. "I'll be right back."
I waited . . . and waited some more. Finally,the kid was on what looked like some kind of ice-board and was in the water.
"Anytime now!" I called out to him.
But there were no waves.
"You know, you should have been here yesterday," the kid called out. "We had a sweet swell. I mean I was doing some layback 360s and floaters. It was insane."
Wow. Fascinating. And . . . that's a wrap.
"Start the whale," I called out to Chicken Joe.
"No, no, no, no, no! Wait! Just give me one more chance!" begged the kid.
"You just had it," I told him as I got on the whale. "Tough break, kid. Better luck next time."
But this kid wouldn't take no for an answer. Even though we had left the shore, he surfed on the wake from the whale to catch up with us. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't about to budge.
"No way, no how! This is a contest for big wave surfers!" I yelled to the kid. Now I was losing patience. The blubber ball I was on seemed to be going so slow.
"Step on it, fish sticks!" I yelled.
That seemed to do the trick. The whale slammed his tail down onto the surface of the water, sending the kid under and shattering the ice-board. I felt a little bad. I did. Really.
Then the kid resurfaced holding on to the whale's fluke. I didn't feel bad anymore—just annoyed again. He was like an annoying relative who won't get lost.
He swam through the water like a porpoise and caught up to me on the whale. Chicken Joe finally helped him board. I will admit: it was impressive, if not scary. I can't imagine being that kid's mother.
"Don't you ever, ever do anything in the contest like that, all right?!" I told him.
"I'm in?" the kid panted, out of breath.
"Yeah, you're in," I told him. " 'Cause that was entertaining in a horrifying sort of way."
One thing was clear: This was one determined kid. Either that, or he was just downright crazy.Surf's Up: The Unauthorized Biography. Copyright © by Annie Auerbach. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.