Thrash
The speck turned out to be a little boy. He was not too far from the jetty, but the choppy water had a hold of him, and he was struggling to keep his head up. It was obvious he would not make it to the jetty.
I put my hands on the boogie board. “I’m a better swimmer,” I said. Red began to argue, but I interrupted him. “I can’t pull you both out of the water, but you might be able to pull us.” He nodded.
Then I was in the water. It was much harder to swim than I could have imagined. But still I pushed off the jetty to the boy. I kept yelling, “I’m on my way!” I yelled this over and over again as loud as I could. I realized I was scared of him. Scared to get too close. Scared that if I got to close, he would panic and hold me underwater. When I got close to him, I shoved the board toward him first. My lifeline. He grabbed it and the trashing stopped. The waves did not, and the swim back to the jetty was laborious. Several waves crashed on top of us and sent us into coughing attacks. Still, we made progress with both of us kicking and holding the board.
Red had the tied towel over the edge, ready for us to grab. We did, and with one heave, we were coughing on the concrete. The side of my leg and back were scratched up from being pulled over the edge. Red never did anything gently, but I wasn’t upset. I remember thinking how much I loved him. Really loved him, loved him for who he was. For all the ways he was annoying and honest. He’d changed my life that summer, just by being himself. Changed who I was really. It started to rain.
I’d expected that whole thing to feel different. To feel like a movie. After we saved that kid from the water, I half expected applause from a crowd that had gathered. Or an interview from a News crew, so that we could announce that we sprang into action with the bravery of God, or whatever people like to hear. But there was none of that. We were cold and wet and exhausted. And we were very aware of how that situation could have played out differently. I was thankful to be out of the water. Thankful we had been on the ledge. A juvie and a goofball had saved that kid, and no one was around to see. The boy we saved was Virginia Sullivan’s kid brother.