Day at the beach
The plan was simple; we would head out to sea at top speed, swim around the big rock on the horizon before returning to shore, safe and sound. The first to complete this task would be honoured with a forty minute ride in the front seat of the car on the way home. This was a highly coveted prize back then, we were all desperate to sit next to Dad.
Despite several noticeable differences, my brothers and I were quite alike back then. We were all forceful and brutish at times, everyday was a competition. We bickered and fought for the attention of our elders, often failing to notice how little they cared. We were selfish, over-confident little know-it-alls; just as young boys should be. However, despite all this we remained united. My brothers and I cared intensely for one another, although we never would have admitted it. We were fearless, full of life and above all, happy. I often wonder at how simple life was back then, back before everything changed.
We stood in a line together on that warm August evening, gazing out at the ocean in silence. Looking back I have come to savour this quiet pause as brief moment of tranquillity, in many ways this was the calm before the storm.
“Looks easy...” Sniffed my elder brother. To the untrained eye he may have come across as confident, however something was telling me that he was already regretting his suggestion. I knew Patrick all too well; he looked scared.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “probably only take me like five minutes.”
“Bollocks!” snapped Patrick. “Look how far away it is, that's going to take, what...? Half an hour?”
“Twenty minutes, tops.” Said Sam, as if that put an end to the matter. Sam was a year and four days younger than me, however he always seemed older. He was solemn, quick-thinking and stern, very much his father's son. I always envied him for that.
“Well, it doesn't matter cause I'm going to win.” Patrick assured us. He nudged Sam in the ribs with a bony elbow, smiling like a Cheshire cat. I gave a weak smile before staring off into the distance. No one said anything for a moment, I think we were all considering the likely possibility of our untimely deaths. The big egg-shaped rock seemed to be miles away. The monstrosity in question jutted out of the sea, an ugly dent in the pink horizon. The sea was calm at our feet, however out there it looked angry and powerful. I took a deep breath in and wondered how it would feel to be dragged under. I imagined the cold water filling my lungs as I tried desperately to claw my way upwards to the fading light. I shuddered, there was no need to think about that because it wasn't going to happen.
“We should start before it gets dark.” I said quietly. My brothers looked at me fiercely, full of pep and testosterone-fuelled courage.
“Alright then,” agreed Patrick. “Let's go.”
The three of us began to march into the sea shoulder-to-shoulder, refusing to complain about the cold. I dragged myself through rubbery seaweed, scratching my feet on the cluttered ocean floor. The green-grey water around me was thick with life, I saw coloured fish dart about my ankles, insects buzzed and gulls cried above. Occasionally I glanced back at the beach, a solitary rift of pale sand that now seemed to be worryingly far away. I could see the last few holiday makers packing away their things and wandering into the distance. Alarm bells rang yet I remained undeterred, there was no turning back now. My brothers and I continued onwards and soon enough we were no longer able to walk and it was finally time to swim. We stopped momentarily to look at each other, silently acknowledging one another’s fear.
“You sure about this?” I asked.
“Of course.” Patrick spluttered, he was already red in the face and puffing, I became quietly confident. Maybe this was was going to be easier than I thought.
