FLASH FICTION
The Lifeguard
A short trip to the beach goes very wrong
They should never have been there, she knew that. But it was a fine warm summer day, and the boy wanted to go down to the ocean with his pail and his shovel, and so what if his father had taken the bodyguards Marco and Nicky to a meeting at the Ministry? The beach was only a few hundred meters away, and they would only be there for an hour, and no one would expect them to be leaving the compound anyway. No one left the Minister’s compound alone, and never on foot.
As they reached the stretch of warm sand, Davi clapped his hands and laughed to see the crowds of people and the vast blue of the Atlantic beyond. He handed her his sandals.
“Race me, Mama! Race me to the water!”
He took off ahead of her, proclaiming victory in full voice, small bare feet churning the white sand behind him. She shook her head and smiled; at six he was a headstrong boy, so much like his father. She pulled her flip-flops off and put both pairs in her bag.
“Wait for me, my love!” she shouted, running behind him. She turned her face towards the sky, the joy of the sun and the water and the uncommon freedom almost overwhelming her as she ran.
But for a family of status and wealth, there is always danger. The wolves prowl the edges of the camp by day and night, and they wait for their moment.
The boy was perhaps five meters ahead of her when the dirt bike came speeding down the beach, sunbathers, and beachcombers screaming and leaping out of its way. It slowed down as it reached Davi, and the rider snatched him up in his left arm. Then, gunning the engine with his right hand, the biker put his foot down for a fast turn that sprayed sand in every direction and started back up the beach towards the road. At the curb was a white van, its side door open and a man standing beside it.
But the shortest path to the road ran right by her, and she knew that whatever else happened, they must not be allowed to reach the van. Without thought, she reached down, picked up a snorkel lying on a blanket, and thrust it between the spokes of the motorcycle’s fatback wheel as it passed. The machine stopped as if it had hit a wall, and Davi and his would-be kidnapper flew off.
There are stories of mothers lifting up a car to save their child, and she later thought that what happened that day must have been much the same thing. She found herself lying in the sand, Davi in her arms where she had caught him as he flew from the bike, an acrobatic feat that she remembered not at all. The boy looked at her in shocked silence and then burst into tears. A woman in a bathing suit held her hand and said “Are you alright? My boyfriend is calling the police.”
Nearby, the biker lay dazed on the beach, a mob gathering around him, grim-faced and muttering.
But the wolves were hungry and desperate, and what should have been over was not. She heard the flat crack of a gunshot from up the beach, and the crowd scattered. The man who had been standing beside the van was running towards them, waving a pistol in the air.
She got to her feet holding Davi and fled on unsteady feet towards the sea, with some half-formed notion that she would swim her boy to safety. But exhausted as she was and carrying her son, she could not hope to elude the slim young man in shorts and bare feet pursuing them. After only a few steps, she tripped and fell in the shifting sand. She lay there, hugging Davi, tears forming in her closed eyes as she waited. At least, she thought, they won’t shoot him. Not before a ransom is paid.
Seconds passed like hours and then she felt warm breath in her ear and the high beautiful voice of her son. “Look, mama!”
She leaned her head up and opened her eyes. Davi was pointing up the beach, where a growing crowd of people in bathing suits and street clothes stood between them and the gunman. When he moved, they moved with him, ignoring his threats and his weapon and surrounding him, forcing him back towards the road. As police sirens sounded in the distance, he began to run.
She lay there a few minutes more, hugging Davi and whispering that she loved him and would always protect him, and not to be afraid because the bad people were gone and he was safe. And the woman in the bathing suit, her boyfriend who had called the police, and others came over and helped them up, and told her the same thing with their words and their eyes.
Mother and son walked back up towards the flashing lights, and the door of a police car opened and a man in a gray suit got out. Davi yelled “Papa!” and they ran to each other.
And she whispered to herself “Race you, Davi!” and did the same.
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