Another beach day for mosquito. His mother is having the time of her life like all young upperclass women do so she dumps him at the Bu to be with subculture criminals. The best surfer who ever entered the waters at the Bu is a counterculture decrepit who has a side job as crooner for the rest. They had his father develop spy planes for the government during his lifespan like the SR-71 blackbird. He has long hair and wonderful personage and mosquito is hoping he tells Kelly Slater how he did it before he passes. They call this little grom in a silk hawian shirt mosquito because he hovers around the beautiful children and begs for food. Occasionally Moon dog buys him a hotdog. Elephants never forget. The bikini originated here and the girls let him hang around in their briefness because he is a child and not in puberty yet.
He watches one girl, she has olive skin like a European and a fine luscious body with breasts not to big to clunk around. Mosquito notices she is not like the other girls and her hair is cut very short so the boys cant spy her at a distance and chase her. Her eyes are light grey and mosquito wonders how she ever happened. She chooses bikinis that exactly match her light olive complexion and of a fabric that really clings and she looks like she is walking around naked. Mosquito wonders and he comes close to see and she bares her teeth at him, like a mother wolf protecting her litter. She makes bikinis for the cosmic children. In the thatched hut which is a meeting point for the gang she measure a womans fourchette and derriere, writes the measurements on paper and makes the most incredible mind boggling swim suits under the gaze of God. She lets Mosquito hold the measuring tape while she measures because he is not in puberty yet. the models then put their cut off jeans back on and look at Mosquito and he smiles and the thatched hut is no more at the Bu. Women are amazing when they are young, and innocent , and pretty and wild.. The cat is out surfing now with the Malibu Masochist. Together they beat up anyone at the Bu who doesn’t have respect. The masochist flies off his board in a side thrust kick and breaks people in half. They whisper he is a black belt. The only one he cannot beat up is the cat, and he tries repeatedly to no avail. This is why his nickname is the masochist. Maybe it is because the cat is six foot three inches and an expert in tZu Jan Men that he learned somewhere in the military.
The sun is shining, the waves are up and mosquito sits next to the wall watching their surfboards so no one steals them and the girls walk around in the land of freedom and liberty and all is well, and the clouds move in and the west wind comes up, and there is a glass off phase between two and three PM when everyone is gone and the jobless pros are here and go out. Mosquito has a little Timex watch his mother gave him so he can be at the pickup zone on pacific coast highway at about three thirty and his mother bat turns the blue Chevrolet station wagon in the turnaround
zone and waves. She has on dark Rayban sunglasses and a chiffon scarf around her thick, thick hair cut short so she can wear a wig. Mosquitos mom has been a blond, a brunette, and a redhead on a mission just like Tokyo rose. Mom uses mosquito as insurance and he is happy he has a bed to sleep in. He wonders who lives in the underground logging, dug in and camouflaged on the beach. Word is it is the beach house of the Joe Bfstky, and he sleeps there when one of his five wives cannot take him to a luncheon. He has a bigger house at the base of Sunset boulevard, but his relatives make him lock himself in the bedroom. When the waves get fifteen feet, once in every couple years, the Bu is the place to be and people live in Malibu their whole lives just to ride it and experience it once. The day ends and Mom smiles and hands mosquito a popsicle for the ride home. Fonz is not here. He is her favorite and is elsewhere and the peak at third point does not break anymore. The Movie industry diverted the runoff and it doesn’t exist anymore and time goes on. Don’t bother to go anymore.