In Motion with Dolphins, Introduction

Surfers and the Japanese. Together, they have been an answer for eternity, and still fat constipated red-faced white guys from New York office windows complain out of envy about how Tokyo is so massively populated yet functionable. To squint happiness out your eyes with help from the sun and to feel real freedom by riding the waves of the moon; what better way to populate an island country?

The planet Mercury centered itself into a reflection on Sloansky's Real Estate window. The sight was beautiful, for it was amplifying all of it's magic for every attentive set of eyeballs to witness. A certain telepathy had been known now for quite some time, because faces were constantly engaged with one another in what the rockband Queen had once called "The Game of Love," in which both people inched closer and closer towards the mysterious center where they became primal, engaging in the act that humans put so many names to. The great era in which this story takes place is a time that man could call his, and the momentous age when genius awoke in each individual pineal gland of the brain. What a sight to see it was- massive amounts of buddhafication taking place on street corners, bistros, cafes, studios, islands. Those who knew it wore it with expansive passion. It was easy to recognize the modern lover, because the ones in love wore it together; their laughter haunted the sluggy Vacant ones sitting in dark bars, writing epic novels about their own Doomsday's promise.




Davy wore his shirt with pride, you might say. He broke into a private elementary school as a full blown bandit with the help of his ultra-buddhified guidance units. His quiet, calm demeanor slept with eyes wide open to the world as his guidance units did their guiding in his periphery, never getting in the way of his awareness that he had been created to manifest his own visions. This new place, this new time, those colored pencils, the question ringing in his head as to why his ultra-buddhified guidance units moved him from the yellow walls of his old school to this new blue-walled school. He knew it was a sanctuary. Normal schools didn't supply students with colored pencils.

And his nerves were calm underneath the canopy of green construction-paper leaves, newspaper-stuffed pig sailors, colorful paper windows, hats made of butcher paper and imaginative decor, and air that smelled like questions. Questions. Why was he here? When did it all begin? Was there really a reason at all? The yellow-walled school was nice for a while, mainly because he was able to witness Jay's pain when his name was violently stabbed into the chalkboard. Around his eyes was a reddish color, accumulating into a squinched squint to hide pain. It was fascinating to breathe it, to be it, to stare at him and smile with him while the teacher was talking. It was Davy's inability to pay attention to the teacher and instead stare at Jay that the teacher ended up flipping her lid on him. Jay would tell Davy the most loveable stories, and curse nasty words at the teacher all simply through his eye contact with Davy. Meanwhile, the hungry teacher neurotically bobbed up and down in her presentation to the class for air and imaginative cock. Perhaps the teacher's neurosis is what led the worried parents to pull their child from the yellow walls. Perhaps Davy had aggressively overheard them having a conference one cigarette spewn afternoon. His parents thought this the case, because he showed inner turmoil for the weeks following the conference. Hearing that his teacher's random snapping was because of the death of her husband made him expressively sad, though he did not make sound of it. Her sorrow rang out when she spoke of writing the crest of the "n" in such a way that it only brushed the blue dotted middle-line of the newsprint writing paper. Her inner pain was Jay's inner pain, and Davy had the ability to listen to both of them.

When he first got word of the change of schools, he had to climb up into his Mulberry treehouse with Ronnie and wonder: What was Sea Crest School? Why does everything have to be stupid? How many more inventions are Ronnie and I going to complete in the treehouse before I have to try and get used to new walls? Am I still going to be able to ride my bike to school with him sometimes? He wished that they could invent something to blast off with, a vehicle that would take them somewhere with wild plants, creatures, danger.

The Sea Crest School philosophy encapsulated the thinking of the surfer. To surf, one needs blue walls, a pain tolerance, and a Japanese princess. Sea Crest had all four of those things, though Davy had no use for any of them at the time of his arrival. Davy was in a place that soon would unveil unspeakable secrets, magnetize groups of genius, amplify the capacity of his pupils, and show him that his feet really did exist atop the surfboard of his imagination. In time, without knowing, Davy was to embark on a great adventure. He was to learn the motion of dolphins.