Tumult at a Beach

Breathing in the salty tang of the sea breeze, I take a slow walk along the beach, enjoying the wind as it ruffles my hair. My gaze wanders out to the sea, where families are cavorting in the water and giggling merrily. A girl abruptly stumbles and falls in the water with a huge splash, and my breath catches in my throat even as she surfaces shortly after, none the worse for wear. Memories of an unpleasant incident in the past come flooding rapidly back, and I shudder involuntarily.

            The day began much like this day, with clear skies and a scorching sun. Leaping exuberantly out of the car, I tore down the pavement to the beach, not bothering to wait for the rest of the family to catch up. It had been so long since I last swam in the sea, and I was thrilled that my parents had finally agreed to a family outing at the beach once the school holidays started. Grinning from ear to ear, I took off my slippers and plunged my toes into the cool, wet sand.

            “Zach, please watch out for Peter. Don’t stray too far!” my mother yelled.

            My mother was a worrywart, and hardly a day would pass without her constant nagging. Waving a hand nonchalantly back, I ignored my younger brother’s pleas to wait for him and promptly waded into the water, relishing the feel of the warm waves around me.

            Gamboling in the sea, I was having the time of my life, wondering how much better the day could get when a shrill shriek suddenly caught my ear. I stopped swimming, treading water on the spot.

            What can be happening? Whipping my head around, I searched the waves for the source of the yell. My gaze fell on a commotion not far from me.

            “Help!” a shout came again from that same direction. Someone was struggling in the water, flailing his limbs about in all directions. A head briefly rose above the water, spluttering and gasping before disappearing again under the waves.

            Squinting my eyes against the glare of the sun, I made out that he was wearing a familiar dark blue suit with neon-yellow stripes, and sported the same white goggles my brother had. My jaw dropped and my heart somersaulted in my chest when a cold realisation hit me. My brother is in trouble!

            Feeling as if my heart would seize up, I immediately started to swim over, kicking my legs as hard as I could. My blood roared in my ears from the effort and I could not shake the sense of foreboding that had settled over me.

            Just as I was within reach of my brother, a burly swimmer appeared from the other side and encircled my sibling with his strong arms.

            “Hold on, boy, you are going to be all right!” the man boomed as he hoisted half of my brother’s body out of the water. With powerful strokes, he swam back towards the shore, supporting my sibling’s head above the water while I trailed behind.

            Upon reaching the shore, the man swiftly carried my brother up the beach, laying him on the ground a safe distance from the water. I dashed to my brother’s side, joining my parents who seeing what had transpired, had immediately sprinted over to us.

            “Peter! Are you all right?” my mother asked anxiously as she crouched next to my brother. He grimaced and howled in pain, gesturing towards his legs. My mother shot me a reproachful look while my father stood over us, his brow creased and his face ashen. Why did I not keep a close eye on my brother? Guilt gnawed at me from the inside and I hung my head. Within moments, a lifeguard dressed in red and yellow had joined my parents and me.

            “Please, give him some air. I believe he is suffering from leg cramps,” he advised. He then proceeded to help my brother with some leg-stretching exercises and gently massaged his thighs and calves, in a bid to relieve his muscle cramps.

            Gradually, my brother stopped groaning and his face visibly relaxed. My parents heaved a huge sigh of relief. The lifeguard, seeing that my brother was now much better, advised my parents to let him take plenty of fluids and avoid strenuous exercise over the next few hours.

            “He had probably swum too vigorously and was not properly hydrated before the swim. Please make sure he gets plenty of rest,” he cautioned. My parents and I thanked the lifeguard profusely, and quickly sought out the man who had saved my brother’s life to express our utmost gratitude.

            I subsequently apologised to my mother for not heeding her instructions and for the rest of the day, I made special concessions for Peter, hoping the nice treatment would help to ease his traumatic experience.

            Nevertheless, Peter refused to venture anywhere near a waterbody for the next month in fear that the same thing would happen to him. However, he gradually recovered his nerve and slowly picked up swimming again.

            Turning my head back, I wait for my brother to catch up and take his hand before continuing our walk along the beach. Although six months have passed since the incident, I still feel regret whenever we come to the beach. Looking back, I realised my impatience could have cost my brother his life. Vigilance is important whenever there are possible dangers, and I never wish to put my family members at such risk again.