All was calm on the southern front. Helicopters flew around the peaks and dipped into valleys like the hunter/killer robots from Terminator. There was smoke high in the mountains.
I needed a wave just to wash the day away. I caught a smaller one, got to my knees, and fought and chattered across a windy 3-footer, all the way to the beach.
Back home, I lugged the big-screen TV up those damned stairs, found the DirecTV box and the remotes, then watched the news until Dextercame on and thought about the final line from Gone With the Wind as Scarlett O’Hara stands in the smoke and flames of her ruined estate: “Tomorrow is another day.”
It’s 10:28 a.m. on Monday. Governor Schwarzenegger just made a speech from Malibu. The air is smoky again and there are sirens going by and helicopters are shaking the house. This morning, I made my way to Janet’s house. Malibu Canyon Road was closed, so I parked below and walked up the ashy cliffs. The guesthouse was gone, and the house was worse than it appeared. Her bedroom and bathroom were torched, but most of her art and artifacts were intact. The house will probably have to be rebuilt. Ralphs is open again. There’s no wind and the streets are like 28 Days Later. I just saw four guys surfing. I might go now. Anna is in Marina del Rey at a friend’s house. She just text messaged me to see if everything is okay.