The Boy in the Water

The early morning reddish orange sky reflected off the calm of the ocean. The dock was empty except for a few umbrellas’ and Paul’s father ready to snap a picture of his son. Paul positioned himself, arms back and knees bent. Paul’s reflection stared at him with poise. He took a deep breath and jumped. The splash disrupted the serenity of the water.

“Great job Paul! I got a nice shot of you in mid-air. Paul? Paul!” He didn’t resurface. In haste, Peter dropped the camera and jumped into the water fully clothed. He took a deep breath and went under. Paul was beneath the water conscious, but his foot caught in-between a reef. Peter, with all his might, grabbed Paul’s arms and pulled. Paul’s foot released and with one arm around his son’s waste he swam him back to the dock.

After they both regained their breath Peter put his hand on his son’s arm. “Paul, you scared me to death! I thought I lost you.”

“I was scared too, but I knew you would rescue me. That’s what father’s do for sons. They protect them and are there, just like I’ll be there for you.”

Peter patted his son’s back and smiled. “Let’s go home.”

The walk to the car was silent.