Rip Currents
Tony stares at the white caps from the dune, his eyes follow the caps all the way to the horizon. He looks south and squints into the low piercing rays of the Sun. The onshore breeze unencumbered or affected by clouds pushes some caps higher. The lifeguards have made their daily assessment of the conditions and posted them on the chalk board at the end of the boardwalk. “Rip Currents” He stares at the last place he saw Enzo.
Hearing some sounds behind him, rumbles of small and large feet, laughing, a male and female voice, he turns to see tourists. Guessing by the accents, he thinks, they may be from Germany. He feels akin to the father. Like him he appears observant. Unlike him, he is happy. Tony likes to at least glance at other fathers. He wonders about their struggles, and hopes they know that moment of joy with children. The tourist is playful with his son and smiling like a lot of other men are when they are with their family. The traveling father approaches, stands next to Tony and reads the board. His family in tow, two children, the playful boy and a girl with a sweet smile, both close in age, the boy looks like Enzo, dark hair, green eyes, smile. Tony turns toward the tourist and says, “Rip Currents” to the father. The tourist nods back. Tony says nothing more, walks to the steps of the boardwalk that travels through a cavern of Sea Grape and Coconut palms, mumbles to himself, “It was not even a second.”
The End.
