The way the ocean swells

Chapter 1- Beach Access

My face is sweaty. Everyone of my pores gasps for breath, pouring out sweat, trying hard to cool myself off. I feel my breath quicken, my heart thump to the sound of my soles hitting the pitch black asphalt. Bump! Bump! Bump! My legs follow a rhythm, and I don't stop. I won't. The day is too early for me to quit. I've only just begun.

The sun peaks out from the waterway horizon, turning the ocean an orange mix of light and dark. I see the surfers, getting ready for the morning waves to roll by. They're the locals, knowing when to go. The afternoon is much too windy to even bother trying to catch an unbroken wave. Only tourists try. Some do catch a lucky break. Others have to be tugged back in to shore by the irritated lifeguards who've had to rescue the same people every day for the last few weeks of summer break.
Speaking of lifeguards...

I turn onto Chilly Beach Parkway, slowing down enough to watch out for incoming traffic. This time of year is the busiest and if you're not careful, you'll find yourself on the bottom of someone's tires. Especially a tourist who doesn't bother to look both ways. Trust me. It happens. Each year, I watch the same thing happen over and over again, like the movie Groundhog's Day. I suppose it's luck that no ones been killed but sooner or later one of the non-locals will come around and ruin our town's no kill reputation.

I cross the road onto the boardwalk and smile slightly to myself. I take my joggers and socks off, letting my toes adjust to the freedom they are allowed. I place them on the beach. This early in the morning, no one will be bothered to steal them. On the beach, there's only the lifeguards setting up for the day and the solitary treasure hunters looking to find their fortune by scouring the beach with a metal detector, which by the way, has only found me here pennies and someone's rusted keys that were so red to the point that I had to look clean it off a bit to see that they were actually keys.

I run towards the men standing around near the edge of the water with their flags, getting ready to open the beach for the morning. Several of the men wrestle with the caravan, trying to prop open the front flap with poles. In the midst of all the sweaty faces, I see him. Bingo. The one and only guy around these areas that I can actually say hello to. I walk up to the lifeguards, feeling a smile form on my face. These guys were like my second family. Ever since dad joined them, I became their new daughter. Well that was before... stuff happened.

"Hey everyone," I say, grabbing a pole and helping the flap up.
"Kenzie?" One of the old guys, Pete asks, "Long time no see! How are things in the Whitristle household."
"Same old, same old, I suppose," I say.

Pete is like a second father to me. My real father, Evan Whitristle, disappeared while on a search and rescue mission for a few thrill seekers who decided to go sailing during our regular nightly monsoons. He got the call during the wee hours of the morning and by the time we woke up, he was gone. After that, Pete checked up on my to make sure I wasn't failing with family duties. I had, of course, my mom and younger brother to care for. Pete's cool regardless. I always got my free rides on the rescue inflatable along with sitting around in the caravan out of the sun, watching the guys patrol around on the beach.

I dig my pole into the ground at last and wipe my brow. It was only seven in the morning, yet the sun baked down on my sweat soaked shirt like a giant oven. Several of the other guys come up from the break, their hands caked with sand.

"Hey Kenzie."
"Sup Kenz."
"Hello Kenzie."
"Hey guys,"I say ,"Gonna be a good day? I can feel it already."

Several of them groan. This year was one of the hottest since the summer of 83' or so my o Jenzmom tells me. The heat brought a lot of storm clouds and now the rain beats down on our roof like a person pleading to enter. I can tell that most of them have had their share in the summer sun. Plenty have already peeled noses and the pink under their eyes where the brim of their glasses ended. I suppose it's risk well taken, to be able to save all the tourists from a murky depth.

"So Kenz," Pete asks " You planning on life Guarding?"
"I'll have to think about it," I say.
"You're at the age where you can. You're turning sixteen this summer? So is Colin. He's all ready to take the test, good lad. You'll have to meet him, he's an excellent friend," Pete goes on.
"Yeah, maybe I'll join," I say, trying hard for it to be sincere.

          The truth is, a bit of me longs to join, to finish my father's legacy and maybe even find bits about him that I didn't know; My father was a very secretive man. This dream started the night he disappeared. I remember waking up at four in the morning to mom crying near the telephone. I knew what was happening, of course. Dad was chief lifeguard at the time. He left usually for a few hours and come back, hair speckled with salt and sand, his eyes tired and red. He usually sat me down and said, "Mackie, there are silly people in the world. Just remember that you only have once chance at surviving the ocean's grip; stay calm and breathe normally. The ocean doesn't forgive stupidity."
   
      Well that night, when mom was crying at the phone, I knew that dad was still out there. Mom was usually very sensitive to my dad trying to face down the ocean and some nights I had to know about dad.

"Kenzie? You still there?"

       I snap my eyes back open. Several of the lifeguards peer at me curiously, including Pete.

"Yeah, just thinking."
Pete cracks a smile on his brown, leathery face, "Ya scared us a little."

       I look into Pete's twinkling brown eyes. He wanted me to do lifeguarding and a little bit of me knows why, but I wasn't going to assume that he was doing it for himself. I guess you could say that's a problem for me; very pessimistic, always thinking about the reasoning without using reason. It's whatever.

          Pete's old flip phone dings inside his pocket. He opens it up and a grave look appeared in the lines on his forehead, "Kenzie, I think you better hit the road. Your mom just messaged me asking if you're there and to please bring the bread from the market. I don't think she's too happy kiddo."

       Oh gosh. In my excitement to see the lifeguards, I completely forgot about the bread she initially asked me to grab on my way back from my morning run.

"See you guys later," I say, taking off down the beach.