I returned my phone to our beach camp.
Mom sat in a green chair. The dunes and other families behind her made for an enthralling image.
A lifeguard truck drove across the wide-open area. It dragged a rescue board at its bumper. Two beefy women were inside the vehicle. It was all too clear they worked out.
They pulled up beside a large dune. Nothing was out of place. They were just on duty. What’d be hilarious was if Dad and I flipped over, and one of the women had to rescue us.
Mom escorted me over to him and his new friend. Oceania’s sail was up and ready to go. It flapped in the breeze. I half-expected the wind to rip it right off the boom.
Dad’s friend smiled and said, “Ah, you’re Teuila. Your dad was talking about you.” He took his cap off his messy, black hair and bowed to me. “I am Eric.”
Dad pushed a life jacket into my chest. “Eric’s going to help us out.”
“Oh, terrific,” I mumbled. “Dad, do you seriously not see how rough the ocean is?” I pointed at the whitecaps. They grew larger and more frightening. The Weather Channel always lied. The storm was not going to hit at three o’clock but twelve.
“We’ll be fine. I sailed the South Pacific, so this is nothing new.” Dad helped me into my life jacket. His powerful hands tightened the straps.
I gasped but soon found my breath. The jacket was nice and snug over my body.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I grumbled.
“Oh, wait. This is perfect.” Mom joined Dad, Eric, and me. She held her camera before her. “Group selfie!”
I was the only one who didn’t smile. How could I? A deadly parasite called “fear” invaded my innards. The end was near.
Dad and Eric pushed Oceania into the water.
“Good luck!” Mom called. Was she seriously not worried? Her husband was about to sacrifice her little girl to Davy Jones’s locker.
Yes, I could have run, but once again, something stopped me. What was it?
The waves increased in size the further we walked.
Dad patted Oceania’s stern and said, “All right, hop on, Teuila.”
My hands touched the hard, flat surface of the boat. I jumped onto it and put my feet in its cockpit. A powerful wave pushed the bow down. Without warning, a small scream escaped my lips. “Daddy,” I begged.
“We’re almost behind the waves,” he comfortably said, nodding at Eric. “Thanks, Eric. We’ve got it from here.”
“Aye, aye, captain!” Eric gave him a quick salute. He let go of Oceania’s stern and backed away. The water was up to his stomach.
Dad bounced on his heels a few times before he jumped onto the boat’s bow. It tipped under his weight, but he shifted to its sturdy center.
“Daddy,” I said again. Tears ran down my cheeks. Another wave splashed us. I screamed for a second time.
“It’s okay, Teuila. A little wind won’t hurt us,” Dad said. He gave me a tip of his cap. I just noticed there was a sailboat on it.
I peered over my shoulder at my old life.
Eric waded in the water. He wanted to make sure Dad and I got out safely.
Mom watched us from the shoreline.
In the meantime, the beachcombers carried on with their daily lives. Children grabbed boogie boards and rode the waves while the buff lifeguard ladies monitored them.
Oh, Dad, all I wanted was a peaceful summer break.
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