Saturday, April 20, 2013

Just Stand Up

*This essay was written for my Senior Grammar class in September of 2011. I found it recently on my computer and decided to post it here, for it is one of my favorite essays I've written. Enjoy!*


Just Stand Up

            “You do know how to swim, yeah?” The gorgeous male lifeguard began pulling the boards off of the rack, undoing ropes and tying new ones. Like most Hawaiians in their early twenties, he had tribal tattoos all over his arms and neck. His skin was coffee colored, perfectly bronze; which made my skin look like paste. He looked over at me, expecting an answer to his question. Embarrassed at my gawking, I fiercely nodded my head in affirmation, hoping he didn't notice my staring. He hands me a heavy board, and begins to pick out a lovely red life jacket. “Just in case, ok? These waters get rough this time of day, and I have a feeling you are a malihini.” Although struggling with the board, I attempted to look put together when I asked, “What’s that mean,” immediately realizing my naivety. He chuckled and replied, “It means newbie.”
            The plastic buckles on my life jacket were broken. I could not decide whether this was merely coincidence or a bad omen. Nevertheless, I took small steps off of the safety of the pavement onto the uncertainty of the sand.  I stood for a moment with the sand between my toes, looking onward toward the horizon. The early afternoon sun beat down upon me, but in comforting way. My sunscreen provided an extra layer of security. “I go home in two weeks,” I told myself, baffled. So without further daydreaming, I shuffled into the tide. “Don’t forget the oar,” the lifeguard shouted from twenty feet behind. “Oh, mahalo,” I shouted back. My own father was already out on the water, rowing away.
            “Paddle right, right, right. Left, left. Evened out. Repeat.” A constant stream of instructions went reeling through my head as I attempted to fight the strong winds blowing against me. Thirty minutes had passed, and I had not yet stood upon my board. Fear captivated  me and made me feel paralyzed. “Just keep going. Catch up with Dad. No sharks ‘round here, right?” The winds fought intently to move my board back to where I had started.
            “You just gotta stand up, girl!” I heard a woman’s voice over my shoulder. She appeared to be rowing in the same direction I was, only she was significantly faster. She was standing. Her brown hair was pulled into a loose bun for concentration. She had no life jacket. “Try that left paddle, but do it backwards! So you can turn around!” I turned around as she commanded; after all, she looked well-versed in the activity. “Now, get on your toes and hop up! You gotta do it quick.” During this lecture, mind you, she did not stop rowing once. She adjusted her grip on the oar, as if presenting to me how I was to hold it during my stand of faith. She smiled and nodded, repeating, “Just stand up, just stand up.” She was out of sight in less than two minutes.
            Adjusting my weight to the balls of my feet, I prepared myself for takeoff. I expected to fall into the Pacific where there just happened to be a school of shark lurking about. I expected to embarrass myself further. I expected I would come right back down.
            I stood up. I stood quickly, like the lady instructed. The waves rolled beneath me, with me, not against me. The wind was now guiding me back, quickly and sufficiently. A gasp of excitement left me when I was able to look at the incomprehensible beauty of Honolulu from my own personal vehicle. The moment only lasted about a minute, though; my father’s board collided with mine and I went down like the Titanic. I swam up to the surface and shared a moment of laughter with my father, a moment I treasure to this day. “You ready to hit the road?” he asked me after we collected our giggles. I took another gaze around me, noticing all the families at the beach, the shave ice stand, and the beautiful Waikiki in the distance. “No,” I replied with a chuckle, “But I have to be.”
            

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