Wrangler Dani

I was all knees and elbows, with big feet and hands that grabbed, felt and explored everything. Now they were digging themselves into sand, which was strangely hard from recent saltwater, in the way that only beach sand can be. My wavy hair was barely contained in a thick braid, which hung down the middle of my back and smacked my bony spine with a thick plastic band at the bottom.

My dad said we were going in the water. I looked out at the waves and down at my long toes in the sand. There was nothing out there that looked fun to me. The waves were scary, bigger than me. I didn’t know anything about sharks or animal life really, but it only makes sense that something that dark and ominous must hold a terrifying creature, much like my closet at home.

But he said we were going. I got my lanky stature from my dad, but what I had awkwardly he had regally, at least in my observation. He was tan and muscular and he picked me up against his broad chest as we waded into the water.

It was cold. Icy, even. I whimpered and he held me close, telling me about beautiful fish and singing mermaids. Before I knew it that long braid of mine was heavy with saltwater, and my shoulders were also in the water, even as my hands clung to his neck.

“We’re going in, Dani,” he said with excitement. “Hold your breath! One, two, three!”

We ducked under the water. I opened my eyes to see the blue green wash over me and his tan arm still wrapped around me. We emerged into sunshine and I laughed. It wasn’t so scary. Not anymore.