Esmeralda

It was a quiet beach day in the Caribbean. The sea was still, seemingly harmless, despite the red flag placed further away from us. Van and I were resting in the shade of a palm tree, hidden from the sun that craved to burn our skin:

– “Ayuda! Ayuda!” –  A distressed voice came from the sea.

We got up straight away. Two little girls, a teenager and an adult were fighting a rip current. One of the children screamed so loudly it echoed on the beach. A lifeguard ran to the sea and a woman threw herself desperately into the water. It was the mother of the three children.

My heart fluttered, my blood boiled in my veins and without proper training, swim fins or a torpedo buoy I ran and dived. I swam to them, the lifeguard suspiciously looked at me but accepted my help. At that moment I made a choice. Realistically, I had no equipment to save the adult or the mother (that was struggling too). The teenager helped one of the children and the, hysterical, crying girl was already clutching the torpedo. Instinctively, I grabbed the side of the float and swam, trying to calm the child and helping the lifeguard. We swam a lot:

– Can you stand? – He asked me.

– Yes.

– Take care of her, ok? – He handed me the little brunette and went back.

I lied. I couldn’t stand, only my big toe touched the sand. The girl clung tightly to my neck. I lost my breath, but not my strength. I took a swing, set my feet on the ground, and saw two lifeguards jumping into the sea:

– “What’s your name?” – I asked her, smiling.

– “Esmeralda” – She replied crying.

– “Oh my love, it’s okay. Mommy is almost here, look!” – I pointed.

Esmeralda, a brunette with green eyes, was eight years old. She wrapped her legs around my waist, fixed her nails on my neck and laid her head on my shoulder. Me, a complete stranger.
Suddenly she began to cough, tilting her head back and slowly blinking her eyes. She was exhausted. I took her in my lap, her legs rested in my right arm and her body on my left. She stared at me, nervously breathing:

– “Let’s breathe together, shall we? Do it just like me.”

We inhaled and exhaled until those big green eyes, washed in salt and tears, calmed down. We didn’t stop looking at each other until her mother approached:

– “Gracias mi vida! Gracias!” – She said, relieved and tired.

As soon she heard her mother’s voice, she left my arms. I ceased to exist, as if I had been an angel or an apparition.

I saw all the characters of this moment leave the sea, I took a deep breath:

– “I think you have found your calling! You have to take the course” – I heard Van, standing by myside.

– “I need a nap!” – We laughed and we fell in the sand.

I don’t know what made me run to the sea, but being a watcher wasn’t an option. It never was an option. My father, a retired military, taught in me the courage to save lives. No one is left behind. An old love was a lifeguard. Several times he described me his rescues and techniques used. Perhaps it was all this, implanted in my unconscious, that led me to act without fear. Not even the fact that I almost drowned, twice, threatened or stopped me.