David parked the car and headed toward a shaded path where a “No Trespassing” sign hung on an iron fence, partially obscured by a flowering vine. I paused for a nanosecond, fear prickling my spine. We were breaking a rule. David continued to whistle. Above, the blue sky portended nothing but fresh air and a refreshing swim once we reached the beach. Bad things didn’t happen in places with this many flowers.
We filed down in a straight line, me in the rear. My flip-flops strained to support me as I made my way down the steep mountain path.
When the trail leveled off and opened up to an expanse of wild grass, we could see the surf rolling to the shore. Black sand crystals glinted in the sunlight. David found a flat, dry spot for us to dump our stuff. There were no other people on the beach—no lifeguard chair, no laid-out beach towels, no signs of life. It felt like freedom to have this expanse of paradise all to ourselves. I peeled off my T-shirt and shorts. I adjusted the straps of my one-piece Ocean Pacific bathing suit, and Sebastian dove into the surf. Jenni and I trotted after him.
“I’ll meet you down there.” David hunched over his contact lens case with a travel-size bottle of saline solution.
The waves looked gentle, not unlike the swells at Padre Island on the Gulf Coast of Texas, where my family vacationed. The sky remained a harmless blue bowl. My biggest problem was that I wished my body was as lean as Jenni’s.
Once I’d waded far enough that the water hit my midthighs, a wave knocked me over. My whole body sunk below the waterline, and the undertow dragged me downward. I struggled to get upright, but as soon as I cleared the surface of the water, another wave pushed me down again, and I somersaulted through the surf. Salt water stung my eyes and rushed up my nose. It felt like an invisible force below the sand was pulling me under, daring me to fight. Every time my head popped out of the water, I’d try to catch my breath, but would get knocked down before I could fill my lungs with air. Every effort to get myself upright failed.
I had to get out. Frantic, I flailed my arms and bicycled my legs, but the undertow continued to suck me back. When I finally landed in a spot where I could stand up, I gasped and coughed, almost doubled over with exhaustion. My head pounded from the effort of fighting the sea. I staggered out of the water.
Once I was onshore, my chest heaved with the effort of my escape. My arms ached from trying to claw my way through the water. Jenni emerged and walked toward me. We agreed that sunbathing would be more fun.
“Where’s my dad?” she said, scanning the water.
I raised my hand to my forehead and surveyed the ocean—left, right, and left again. No sign of David. The fear prickled again, straight up my spine, nesting at the base of my neck.
“Oh my God!” Jenni pointed straight ahead and took off into the water. Ten yards in front of us, an orange object lolled in the water. David’s board. Something large and white floated beside it.
David was facedown. A wave surged forward and delivered him to us in shin-deep water. We turned him over, and his eyes stared, unblinking, up at the sky. My breath came in shallow gasps. Water gushed from David’s nose and mouth. So much water poured out of him. As if he contained half the ocean.
Jenni and I each grabbed an arm. We pulled him to the shore. Neither of us knew CPR, but we pumped his chest like we imagined we should. We screamed maniacally for Sebastian. With every thrust to David’s chest, more water gushed out of his mouth and nose. His eyes stared unblinking at the sky, at nothing at all.
My teeth chattered uncontrollably, and my arms spasmed. I ran in place when I wasn’t pumping David’s chest because standing still meant that the truth of his open eyes and gushing mouth could find me and settle in. My mind spun out lies: He’ll be fine. People don’t die on vacation. We’ll laugh on the way home about that mean old Hawaiian surf. I could still hear him whistling.
If we could just pump enough water out of him, he would sit up and cough.
“Oh my God!” Sebastian arrived, dripping wet and panting. He pressed on his dad’s chest with his two open palms.
“I’ll go get help,” I said, and took off running, barefoot, still shaking—my legs desperate to be in motion. In stillness, the truth loomed, so I pumped my legs and hurled my body back up the mountain. The ghost of David whistling down the path just thirty minutes earlier haunted each step. Halfway up the trail, I tripped on a root and landed spread-eagle on the path. A long red gash opened on my knee. It looked like it should hurt, but I felt nothing. I was all heartbeat and panic. I’d flown out of my body and was already up the mountain begging someone to help us.
“No! No! Daddy, no!” Sebastian and Jenni’s keening reached me from the beach. I scrambled to my feet. I had to keep running to drown out the unbearable sound of their mourning. Every time I stopped to catch my breath, I heard their cries. Picturing the two of them alone on the beach with their father’s limp body drove me up the mountain.
When I made it to the top, I collapsed at the feet of
